Redemption road
Dolly Parton finds her way back to bluegrass
BY TED DROZDOWSKI
Alterna-country, like high-concept and military intelligence, is a term that
means its opposite. The label is applied to what's essentially authentic
country music, a style based in rural American tradition, driven by heart, and
dealing with real-life issues in an uncontrived, personal manner. It's a style
meant to be relevant longer than the next quarterly shareholders' statement.
And by that definition, no other musician is making better honest-to-God
country music today than Dolly Parton. Who would have guessed 25 years ago,
when her first platinum hit, "Here You Come Again," was ushering in the
so-called "countrypolitan" sound, that Parton would return to her Locust Ridge
(Tennessee) roots and evoke the spirits and passions that echoed in the
boilerplate recordings of the Carter Family, Jimmie Rodgers, Hank Williams, and
Bill Monroe . . . and toss in a little Led Zeppelin, too?
That's been the game plan for her last three albums, 1999's The Grass Is
Blue, last year's Little Sparrow, and her just-released Halos
& Horns, all on the bluegrass-and-folk-inclined Sugar Hill label. The
first two are gems that romance the bluegrass and Appalachian music Parton
first heard as a child and devoured so prodigiously that she was ready for her
Grand Ole Opry debut in 1958, when she was just 12. Little Sparrow, in
particular, captures the storm clouds of fable that hang over the Smoky
Mountain hamlets of her raising, with its tales of witches and star-crossed
lovers and the pervasive sense of sweet, sad loss in her pure-toned voice,
which rings true as Monroe's high-and-lonesome call.
The playing on both albums is impeccable, as it is on Halos & Horns.
Parton, who produced the new CD, hand-picked an ensemble whose quick-stepping
ability to integrate dobros, mandolins, banjos, acoustic guitars, fiddles, and
bass might be considered reckless if not for the Navajo-blanket precision of
the lovely arrangements. There's breathing room for all, with almost every
instrument stepping to the fore -- often within each number -- and then sidling
back into the mix without a ripple.
Of course, most of the room is reserved for Parton's magnificent,
octave-leaping instrument and her tight gospel chorus of backing singers.
Notwithstanding that she's 56, her voice seems only richer and less
predictable. The biggest surprise is her impersonation of an aged mountain
crone in "These Old Bones," where she employs a voice inspired by her mother's
dry, flat twang. Actually Parton sings two roles: the wizened seer and healer
and the young woman to whom the older one passes her gifts. The story is a nice
metaphor for what Parton has done with this string of albums -- carrying the
unfiltered musical notions of the past into the present, for the benefit of
another generation.
Halos & Horns' best songs are written by Parton. They include the
portrait of depression "Not for Me," the charming country romance "Sugar Hill,"
and the title track, in which she grapples with the conflicts between innocence
and experience like a down-home William Blake. But the tunes likely to get the
most attention are the covers. For the third time she's translated pop hits
into the language of Locust Ridge. On The Grass Is Blue, she delivered a
scaldingly quick flash through Billy Joel's "Travelin' Prayer." Little
Sparrow found her tweaking Gershwin's "I Get a Kick Out of You." This time
there's Bread's "If" and Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven." The former is,
alas, still treacly, but "Stairway" ends the album, just as it's ended
thousands of high-school dances.
And in Parton's hands, it's a work of precise beauty. Banjo and mandolin blend
arpeggiated rhythms as lush, slow-paced violin and dobro sail on gentle
melodies -- all just below the skipping tones of her voice, which slowly forms
each note into a cotton-candy delicacy. Parton changes a few choice words as
she heads for the rave-up finale, replacing the ambiguity of Robert Plant &
Jimmy Page's lyrics with a morality play that points toward redemption's road.
The big ending starts with a flourish of dobro and violin, but the soloing
gives way to Dolly and her choir, the latter pumping church-style behind her
vocal testimony to the emptiness of Mammon. It's a gas with enough showy
virtuosity to stand up to ol' Pagey's guitar rip.
Given her track record of films, songwriting triumphs (she penned the Whitney
Houston mega-hit "I Will Always Love You"), theme-park development, and
wide-ranging recordings, it's hard to predict where Parton's interests will
take her next. But for now, Halos & Horns, Little Sparrow,
and The Grass Is Blue make the case for her coronation as country
music's modern-day queen.
Issue Date: August 23 - 29, 2002
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