<\/p>\n
The title of Phil Ochs\u2019s 1965 song<\/a> \u201cI Ain\u2019t Marching Anymore\u201d can be misleading. Rather than encouraging Americans to stop marching in protest of the Vietnam War, Ochs was reflecting his generation\u2019s anger at being asked \u2014 as many previous generations had been \u2014 to march as soldiers and sacrifice their lives for an immoral war. The song goes through the litany of American military history from the perspective of a weary soldier who has been present at every war since the\u00a0War of 1812. \u201cIt\u2019s always the old who lead us to the war, always the young to fall,\u201d goes the chorus<\/a>. To Ochs, Americans had paid too high a price for the country\u2019s militarism. \u201cCall it peace or call it treason. Call it love or call it reason, but I ain\u2019t a-marching anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n Ochs wrote in the album\u2019s liner notes that the song \u201cborders between pacifism and treason, combining the best qualities of both.\u201d\u00a0He observed that \u201cthe fact that you won\u2019t be hearing this song on the radio is more than enough justification for the writing of it.\u201d \u201cI Ain\u2019t Marching Anymore\u201d quickly became an anthem of the antiwar movement.<\/p>\n Ochs never enjoyed the wide and lasting popularity of Bob Dylan or Joan Baez, but he was the most politically engaged among the folk singers who came of age in the 1960s. Like many of his generation, Ochs believed in the ideals he learned in school \u2014 equality, democracy, justice, and America\u2019s role of promoting freedom around the world. But by his late teens, Ochs joined his peers in recognizing the harsher realities of American imperialism, deep-rooted racism, and class struggle. He devoted his short life to music and radical protest.<\/p>\n On April 9, 1976, Ochs succumbed to his long-standing depression, bipolar disorder, and alcoholism, and died by suicide. Today marks the fiftieth anniversary of his death. He wrote about two hundred songs and released eight albums, employing his sharp wit and moving lyrics that shimmered with optimism, patriotism, outrage, and despair.<\/p>\n<\/section>\n Most of Ochs\u2019s songs reflected the concerns of the 1960s left \u2014 racial violence (\u201cToo Many Martyrs<\/a>,\u201d \u201cHere\u2019s to the State Of Mississippi<\/a>,\u201d \u201cTalking Birmingham Jam<\/a>\u201d), the Harlem riots of 1964 (\u201cIn The Heat of the Summer<\/a>\u201d), the limits of liberalism (\u201cLove Me, I\u2019m a Liberal<\/a>\u201d), the Vietnam War (\u201cWhite Boots Marching in a Yellow Land<\/a>,\u201d \u201cWe Seek No Wider War,<\/a>\u201d \u201cTalking Vietnam Blues<\/a>,\u201d \u201cDraft Dodger Rag<\/a>\u201d), migrant farm labor (\u201cBracero<\/a>,\u201d which channeled Woody Guthrie\u2019s song \u201cDeportees\u201d), US militarism (\u201cSanto Domingo<\/a>,\u201d \u201cCops of the World<\/a>\u201d), the politics of religion (\u201cCanons Of Christianity<\/a>\u201c) and the social consequences of inequality (\u201cThere but for Fortune<\/a>,\u201d \u201cFlower Lady<\/a>\u201d).<\/p>\n His songs ranged from hopeful (\u201cWhat\u2019s That I Hear?<\/a>\u201d) and patriotic (\u201cPower and the Glory<\/a>\u201d) to angry and cynical (\u201cOutside of a Small Circle of Friends<\/a>\u201d) to deeply personal (\u201cWhen I\u2019m Gone<\/a>,\u201d \u201cPleasures of the Harbor<\/a>,\u201d \u201cChanges<\/a>,\u201d \u201cChords of Fame<\/a>\u201d). \u201cLou Marsh<\/a>\u201d told the story of a New York social worker who was killed trying to stop a gang fight. \u201cCelia<\/a>\u201d describes a couple \u2014 she a Filipina, he a white American \u2014 who lived ten years as political prisoners in the Philippines. When they were released, the United States refused Celia entry, forcing them to live in England. In \u201cThe Crucifixion<\/a>,\u201d Ochs compared the deaths of Jesus Christ and President John F. Kennedy.<\/p>\n