Liner Notes to Phil Ochs' Return

Today would have been Phil Ochs' 85th birthday.

In 2003, I was 15 years old when I discovered Phil Ochs. His flat-picking intro to "I Ain't Marching Anymore" played over the soundtrack to Steal This Movie, a film about Abbie Hoffman. The sound from Phil's J50 Guitar instantly struck me. As fate would have it, my parents already owned the official soundtrack. Once home from the screening, I immediately dug out the CD.

When playing the album, I discovered another of Phil's songs. On the disc, "When I'm Gone" is covered by Ani DiFranco and speaks to his activism. He would be one of the few musicians who not only talked the talk, but walked the walk when it came to organizing. Quite often, Phil would turn down paying gigs and interviews to perform at campus antiwar rallies, union pickets, and civil rights demonstrations. The chorus, "I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here," highlighted the importance of seizing the time we're given to contribute to this the world.

Being a 15-year-old entering political consciousness, at first I didn't fully understand the meaning behind his songs. I was more hooked by his voice, energy, and strumming. I hadn't learned to listen to lyrics yet, only melodies. I had no idea what folk music was. The stories in each verse of "I Ain't Marching Anymore" speak of a soldier of time who fights in each major war until Vietnam before he finally turns down the order. My first time listening to the song in full, I had to restart the track because my teenage-self thought there was a double-meaning regarding the word "marching." That is to say, soldiers marching and demonstrators marching.

There was a very good reason for that assumption and my thinking reflected the mood of mid-2003. Upon discovering Phil's music, the antiwar movement had unexpectedly died the night the assault on Baghdad began. Not a month earlier, we had witnessed the largest peace demonstration in the history of the planet when on February 15, 2003, millions across the world marched to try and stop the war. When the Bush administration dropped the bombs, I expected the crowds I had seen to be even larger and angrier. Instead, at the next Austin Against War meeting, what was once a room of one hundred people became eight. My optimism was deeply wounded by the lack of bite that I thought my generation / country had. The eight people left in that room proved that Dick Cheney was correct when he referred to the movement as a "focus group."This is something Phil would witness as well, only I learned this much sooner in age because I was entering the world Phil left. Cynicism infested Americans who deeply cared for our country, our troops, and the Iraqi people, and most had no hope to carry on. No one wanted to march anymore.

Still, Phil's music played through my Sony Walkman, which I nicknamed my Sony "Walk-Out" as I desperately tried to motivate my peers to be more involved with varying results. This moment in time I would yearn for later because for these few months, I would think Phil Ochs was alive and well. I would remind myself to look up his website and catch him the next time he comes to Austin on a tour. Distracted by my activism and failing grades, I hadn't yet read into Phil's personal life. To this day, it would be rare for me to deep dive into an artist outside of their music. Adding to this illusion, there was something about the production of his second album (also called "I Ain't Marching Anymore") which led me to assume Phil was older than the 25-year-old he was when recording. His performance wasn't as youthful as his first and third album. Coupled with this, "Love Me I'm A Liberal" was one of the first songs I downloaded off Limewire. The sound quality of Phil introducing the song causes his voice to sound raspy which also led me to assume he was older. From here, I would learn much of what I was listening to was from the 1960s.

Then, on Christmas Day, 2003, my parents had purchased "The Early Years" compilation as a gift. Excited for my first official Phil Ochs CD, I dove into his newer, more introspective songs which he performed acoustically at Newport 1966. Just like his political songs, his personal work electrified my interest even further. It was at this point where my innocent assumption of his well-being would meet reality. Upon reading the liner notes of the compilation written by Billy Altman, I learned Phil had taken his life way back in 1976 on April 9th. I was born nearly twelve years later on April 6th, 1988.

I still have the same feeling I felt that Christmas. It's possible I haven't accepted his death and despite being a self-coined Ochs expert, I may never fully understand it. My obsession over his music, politics, and personal life would grow, as it did with many of his 50 fans who discovered him. Like Phil, I was also a movie buff from a young age. I spent countless hours at the cinema by myself in high school. Mainly action/adventure films. Harrison Ford to me was who John Wayne was to Phil Ochs. I listened to movie scores and pretended my life was a movie. It was incredible for me to learn while reading Phil's biography, There But For Fortune written by Michael Schumacher, that Phil was as obsessed with movies as I was.

My own personal struggles were never at level of Phil's when at his worst, but were always comforted by his music when I desperately needed lyrics to relate to. It was astounding that one musician could speak to so many points of my personality - my political anger, optimism, depression, imagination... Usually, one would turn to multiple musicians to cover each mood of the day, but despite only releasing seven albums in the 1960s and 70s, Phil's diverse range of work feels multiple decades. In addition, dozens of previously undiscovered songs continue to surface even today.

Now at 37, I've met many people who were in Phil's small circle of friends. Phil's sister, Sonny, is a guiding light for many up-and-coming musicians and would always write back to me as I entered my 20s. She would go on to organize countless of Phil Ochs "Song Nights" with fans both new and old and hosts her own folk music radio show. I unexpectedly met Tom Hayden in Chicago at a screening of Chicago 10. He and I both were disappointed Phil didn't make it into the film apparently due to lack of footage (more of these excuses below). Not long before in 2006, I was in New York where I met Jim Glover and Jean Ray at their reunion show. There are those who feel the way I do for other musicians who are still alive and active, but what sets Ochs fans apart is how accessible and inclusive his circle is. Even if Phil were as known as Paul McCartney or Dylan, I still feel this would remain the case. Now, with social media and platforms like Spotify, Phil's following is growing. Younger listeners such as Tori Nelson has expertly crafted podcasts and expanded his social media presence, reaching hundreds of thousands of youth. As of December 19th, 2025, Phil has over 100,000 followers on Spotify, which is up from a mere 12,000 as memory serves. While I regret I didn't get to meet more of those close to Phil, including his brother Michael, I am grateful to have been a fan for so long. One day, it won't be such a small circle.

While Phil wouldn't be happy about the current state of America and the world, he would be overjoyed by these younger generations still discovering him. His music still articulates both our anger and hope amid the trials of techo-feudalism, climate change, fascism and the wars that come along. He would be proud of the many Americans who continue to organize including his daughter, Meegan Lee Ochs-Potter, who spent decades fundraising and organizing at the ACLU. As Phil sang to our duty as Americans to build this country to be just, "the glory shall rest on us all."

Phil and his daughter, Meegan.