PORTRAIT OF THE DAY: KAREN DALTON
Karen J. Dalton (born Karen J. Cariker (July 19, 1937 – March 19, 1993) was an American folk blues singer and banjo player associated with the early 1960s Greenwich Village folk music scene, particularly with Fred Neil and the Holy Modal Rounders as well as Bob Dylan.

Portrait of Karen Dalton with her banjo. Photo courtesy of Light In The Attic
The original bio for In My Own Time album notes a passport that “says she’s from Texas,” but better sources claim Dalton was originally from Enid, Okla., her mother full-blooded Cherokee. She turned up in Greenwich Village in the early 1960s, at the height of the folk revival, with her 12-string Gibson guitar, a long-neck banjo, and her otherworldly vocals. She immediately drew attention from the aforementioned folksinging milieu. Around the same time, she could also be found in Boulder.
“A nice little cow town with a university,” says Joe Loop of Boulder back then. Loop operated the Attic, a homey coffeehouse where he occasionally ran tape on the proceedings. Cotton Eyed Joe comes from his personal collection. “In 1961, the folk thing was starting to happen, blossoming on the two coasts. People would come through looking for gas money, and some of them stuck around. Most of the people who played at the Attic were from the University of Colorado, but Karen was an experienced performer and had her stuff together. […] It’s amazing how many musicians would go out of their way to play with her back then. She played with all the best people: Fred Neil, Tim Hardin, Dino Valenti. All those people loved her and loved playing with her, but it wasn’t the kind of stuff that the record labels were looking for.”

(l-r) Bob Dylan, Karen Dalton, and Fred Neil at the Cafe Wha? in 1961. Photo by Fred W. McDarrah
Her bluesy, world-weary voice is often compared to that of iconic jazz singer Billie Holiday. In his 2004 autobiography, Bob Dylan wrote this in his description of discovering and joining the music scene at Greenwich Village’s Cafe Wha?, after arriving in New York City in 1961: “She was a tall white blues singer and guitar player, funky, lanky, and sultry. I’d actually met her before, run across her the previous summer outside Denver in a mountain pass town in a folk club. Karen had a voice like Billie Holiday’s and played the guitar like Jimmy Reed and went all the way with it. I sang with her a couple of times.”
Known as “the folk singer’s answer to Billie Holiday” and “Sweet Mother K.D.”, Dalton is said to be the subject of the song Katie’s Been Gone (composed by Richard Manuel and Robbie Robertson) on the album The Basement Tapes by The Band and Bob Dylan. She struggled with drugs and alcohol for many years. It has been widely reported that she died in 1993 on the streets of New York City after an eight-year battle with AIDS. However, an article in magazine confirmed that Dalton was actually being cared for by the singer-songwriter Peter Walker in upstate New York during her last months.Uncut
Though Dalton disappeared from the public eye soon after her sophomore release, it’s a fair guess that she continued to play in living rooms, out of the spotlight. While Lenny Kaye describes Dalton’s last days as “living on the New York streets, destitute, her health gone,” Peter Walker sets the record straight: “Let me put to rest these ideas that she died in destitute poverty and drug addicted homelessness,” he states. “She was perfectly functional mentally. She was living in Hurley, in upstate New York between Kingston and Woodstock. She lived with AIDS for more than eight years, but with an excellent quality of life considering the disease.”
“She sure can sing the shit out of the blues,” is how folk godfather Fred Neil put it.
Karen Dalton performing “It Hurts Me Too” c.1970.
A forlorn cry from the abyss, she doesn’t have to dig deep for the blues. The blues are Karen Dalton. She makes other singers sound like frauds.
“All of us in the Bad Seeds were huge Karen Dalton fans,” says Nick Cave in the liner notes to the 2006 reissue of Dalton’s second and last album, 1971′s In My Own Time. “She understood the blues better than the folk singing milieu she was hanging out with,” furthers Cave. “Absolutely. She’s a blues singer to me. It’s full of idiosyncrasies that you can’t repeat – it’s in her voice and it’s just extraordinary. She is my absolute favorite blues singer – female blues singer, let’s say.”
A guitarist of some renown in the 1960s of the Cambridge, Mass., scene, Walker once directed music for Timothy Leary’s infamous “celebrations,” in which the guru would rant to acid-drenched audiences of thousands. He met Dalton early in the decade and remained friends with her until her death. “Karen was part of the crowd that hung around with Tim Hardin,” he recalls. “They all loved her because she was the cover girl for the Ode Banjo company, the most traditional of instruments available only through mail order.” Walker spent time with Dalton in the 1980s when she had an apartment in the Bronx and he worked in New York City. He became her caretaker later, offering her a place to live when the disease had nearly won. He maintains he has her diaries but admits that a box of tapes she left behind was destroyed in a fire.
A combination of stage fright, drug and alcohol problems, and the fact that Dalton didn’t write her own material didn’t help. She also had difficulty in the studio, all but hoodwinked into recording her first album. Producer Nik Venet had tried unsuccessfully to record Dalton, so he invited her to a Fred Neil session and asked her to cut Neil’s “Little Bit of Rain” for his own private archives. She cut the entire album that night, most of the tracks in one take.

Karen Dalton in Paris. Photo by Dan Hankin.
Both Dalton’s albums were re-released in November 2006: It’s So Hard To Tell Who’s Going To Love You The Best, on the French Megaphone-Music label, included a bonus DVD featuring rare performance footage of Dalton. In My Own Time was re-released on CD and LP on November 7, 2006 by Light In The Attic Records. The version of the song “Something on Your Mind” (composed by Dino Valenti) that is sung by Dalton on her album In My Own Time is the soundtrack during the ending credits of the 2007 film Margot at the Wedding, which was written and directed by Noah Baumbach and starred Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh.
Dalton’s second album, In My Own Time (1971), was recorded at Bearsville Studios and originally released by Woodstock Festival promoter Michael Lang’s label, Just Sunshine Records. The album was produced and arranged by Harvey Brooks, who played bass on it. (Harvey Brooks played bass also on the Miles Davis album Bitches Brew, on the Bob Dylan album Highway 61 Revisited and on the Richie Havens album Mixed Bag.) Piano player Richard Bell guested on In My Own Time. Its liner notes were written by Fred Neil and its cover photos were taken by Elliot Landy.
Less well-known is Dalton’s first album, It’s So Hard to Tell Who’s Going to Love You the Best (Capitol, 1969), which was re-released by Koch Records on CD in 1996.
The Holy Modal Rounders’ folk subversive, Peter Stampfel, who played with Dalton, seems to capture her essence perfectly in the liners to the Koch reissue when he writes: “She was the only folk singer I ever met with an authentic ‘folk’ background. She came to the folk music scene under her own steam, as opposed to being ‘discovered’ and introduced to it by people already involved in it.”

Tim Hardin in Colorado with Karen Dalton and Susie Bergman. Photo by Dan Hankin
Today, by phone, Stampfel recalls Dalton with a resigned bluntness. “We hung together from 1969 to the mid-Seventies, performing rarely. We’d take amphetamines and rehearse a lot. That band played maybe three gigs. She used to shoot amphetamines. Then, like a lot of people when they get older, she turned into an alcoholic.”
Stampfel remembers that Dalton had been in the hospital just before In My Own Time, recorded in Woodstock, N.Y., with Electric Flag bassist and Dylan/Miles Davis sideman Harvey Brooks directing a select group of sessionistas. Dalton tackles Motown classic “How Sweet It Is (to Be Loved by You)” and “In a Station” by the Band’s Richard Manuel, and while the album’s full production is disorienting, it recalls the early work of one of Dalton’s contemporaries, Bonnie Raitt: commercial, bluesy, singer-songwriter-friendly. Dalton’s ragged vocals commanding the orchestrated surroundings are singular if nothing else, and all agree that the stark reading of the traditional “Katie Cruel” is haunted beyond words.

In My Own Time, album’s cover.
Woodstock Festival co-promoter Michael Lang put out In My Own Time on his Just Sunshine imprint and then arranged for Dalton and band to tour Europe as the unlikely opening act for Santana. During the trek, they played Montreux, and she never made it out of the dressing room.
Acoustic guitarist Dan Hankin, who backed Dalton from 1965 into the early 1970s and appears on both studio albums, remembers the ups and downs all too well. “She was just falling prey to her own demons and drug abuse,” he says from his home in Colorado. “Before we went on this European trip, she bought me a guitar. After that trip, she went back to Woodstock and was trying to get another band together. She invited me to join her, and after several weeks with nothing happening, I started saying, ‘When are we gonna rehearse?’ I had to leave because I had a life elsewhere, but she didn’t want me to leave. “After I got back, she called me up in the middle of the night and demanded that I send her the guitar back. I sent it back and never spoke to her again.”
“Blues Jumped The Rabbit” – Summerville, Colorado 1970.
Hankin can be seen in the DVD that accompanies Cotton Eyed Joe as well as the French release of It’s So Hard. Only four songs and less than 15 minutes long, it captures Dalton onstage in New York and in the Colorado mountains circa 1969-1970. It’s a thrill to see her perform, missing a couple of teeth, and with waist-length brown hair and the shadow of a smile, Dylan’s description of her as sultry is more than apt.
“She was living in the mountains outside of Boulder,” explains Hankin, “in a little old mining cabin without running water and an outhouse. I sort of inherited that cabin when she left. It was only $30 a month. The scene I was in with Karen was very low-key. It was people who weren’t in the mainstream of society. We mostly played in living rooms or in tiny little bars for drinks.”
Until three years ago, few besides Joe Loop even knew that the footage from a French film crew following Dalton at the time even existed. Nick Cave has Joe Loop to thank for even more: He sold his entire collection of Dalton tapes to the Megaphone label, which is planning another release later this year. There’s more Dalton than live Attic recordings, too.

It’s So Hard To Tell Who’s Going To Love You The Best, album’s cover.
Digging for the story of Karen Dalton’s life, by contrast, takes on the specter of chasing ghosts. Delmore Recordings’ Mark Linn, who guided Cotton Eyed Joe onto the market and played an enormous role in this story, ultimately delivered the most poignant reflection on Dalton. “There’s a small amount of people that have the original records [who] were intensely affected by them – by her voice,” he offers.
“I think you can really feel the pain. She lived a hard musician’s life. It wasn’t about trendiness or stardom. It was about playing music.”

Photo by Elliot Landy.
Text collaged from various sources.
Category: MUSIC 4 comments »

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thank you for this.
i’ve been fascinated by karen dalton for a while now…ever since i first read a tiny sidebar about her in an issue of mojo magazine about a decade ago, and made a note to try and track down some of her music. it was difficult to find much of anything aside from “it’s so hard to tell…”, until enough people considered “hip” started namedropping her that it must have occurred to music industry people that it might be a good time to make her work a bit easier to get a hold of. hearing her with a full band on that second album is still a bit too jarring for me; it doesn’t quite fit. it’s as if she was on a completely different wavelength, and trying to build conventional arrangements around her voice was never going to work. it certainly wasn’t going to result in a hit, because she was nowhere near being musically bland enough to allow that to happen.
“cotton-eyed joe” is spellbinding, though, and i think that’s the way she was meant to be heard. just karen’s voice, a guitar or a banjo, and the spaces between the notes. i’ve been wanting to check out the other recently unearthed collection (i think it’s called “green rocky road”), but haven’t been able to find it yet.
her life has always been shrouded in mystery, but this is probably the most useful information about her i’ve ever found in one place, and it helps to form a better picture of who she was. i guess it’s a bit much to hope that someday peter walsh might see fit to release some excerpts from her diaries that might shed some light on what she was like…but it would be nice if someone skilled enough for the job would at least write a book about her at some point. it would be nice to know a bit more about who she was, what she did during all those years that are mostly unaccounted for, and why she was so uneasy about the recording process.
it’s also a little ironic to think that if she had been born about 40 years later, she might have had significantly more commercial success and fit right in with the whole “freak folk” movement. then again, it’s possible the majority of people still wouldn’t be able to appreciate her uniqueness. i think it’s just a shame she wasn’t more appreciated while she was alive.
I knew Karen through Danny Hankin. Tim and she were part of a sort of Summerville/Ward music scene when Bill Carson and I were acquainted. The home of Elsie Trask, first lady (and owner) of Summerville, was one of the places where Karen, Tim, Danny or David Ratkin would sing.
Barbara Carson
Around 1970, Karen visited and played with folks in Summerville or other mountain mining towns such as Ward and Gold Hill.
I knew her in connection with Danny Hankin who lived in Summerville and with Tim Hardin who was living in Ward, as I remember.
Another musician from New York, David Ratkin, was also living in Summerville and lived in what we called the ‘corner house’ in Summerville.
My boy, Jackson, knew another cabin where David lived as “Danny’s Place”.
Summerville may be the site on one of the photos one can find… perhaps the one with Tim Hardin, for example, sitting in front of a cabin.
Something about Summerville: much music was played there and occasionally the scene was on the porch of Elsie Trask, the first lady (and owner) of that 100 year old mining town.
Music, especially blues and folk, were a common feature of our own version of a ‘mountain culture’.
In the Summerville video, Karen is seen climbing up Hoosier Hill and then looking down on Big Horn Mountain and Summerville.
In the cabin she has a gas stove, a dry sink and a fridge. Who’s cabin had those amenities? Certainly ours did not! Is she in the cabin we eventually called “Larry’s Cabin”?