My blog was delayed by a day,
since last night Sheila and I went to see Lyle Lovett and his Acoustic Band
perform at the Royal Theatre. It was a
great show, but I’ll be writing about that in my next entry on my rule #5
exemption (I just bought his new album).
The end result was I’ve gotten a
solid four listens in for this next album, and greatly enjoyed each and every
one of them.
Disc 417 is…Pieces of the Sky
Year of Release: 1975
What’s up with the Cover? Emmylou Harris, one of the most enchantingly
beautiful women in the world, shows that great hair existed in the days before
product.
How I Came To Know It: I’ve known Emmylou
Harris all my life, growing up with country music, but the only one I owned for
a while was “Wrecking Ball,” her famous breakaway album with producer Daniel
Lanois.
However
you don’t have to have any Emmylou Harris albums to hear her; she sings back-up
vocals nearly everywhere you turn. Neil
Young, Steve Earle, Guy Clark, Bob Dylan, Lyle Lovett – hell, Emmylou has
helped out so many other artists there are four separate Wikipedia pages just
listing her collaborations.
As
I kept hearing her voice over and over again, I knew I had to get more of her
stuff, and that led to me to buying a bunch of her earlier work, “Pieces of the
Sky” being one of the first.
How It Stacks Up: I have nine Emmylou Harris albums, but they are
really divided in style. I’ve got five
albums from 1975 – 1980 and another four spanning 1995 – 2008. The sound is so different that it is hard to
compare. “Pieces of the Sky” is probably
2nd in terms of the first five, but if I had to rank it against all
the albums, I would probably say 3rd or 4th best depending on my mood.
Rating: 4 stars
It was one hell of an impressive
way to start a career. “Pieces of the
Sky” isn’t technically Emmylou’s first ever record (that was 1969’s “Gliding
Bird”), but it was her first major release, and album that established her
style, and started a legacy still going strong to this day.
Every time I listen to an Emmylou
record, I’m amazed when I read the liner notes and find that she didn’t write
all the songs. She just takes over a song
so completely you find it hard to believe it wasn’t hers all along. She’s like a female Johnny Cash that way.
Even on songs that I knew very
well by their original artists, like “Coat
of Many Colors” by Dolly Parton and “Bottle
Let Me Down” by Merle Haggard, I had a hard time remembering they weren’t
covers. In the case of “Coat of Many Colors” Harris’ version is
superior. Her quavering voice perfectly
captures the timid but steadfast loyalty a young girl has to her faith and her
mother’s love, as she endures the taunts of other school children for wearing a
coat of many colors, sewn from scraps of leftover cloth. To the other children, the coat represents
poverty. To the little girl, the coat
puts her in the company of biblical giant Joseph.
Dolly’s version is upbeat, like
most of what Dolly does, and it is excellent as well, but I like the way
Emmylou’s high vibrato brings home how bravery has to find its centre in doubt
and uncertainty, or it isn’t bravery at all.
Less so,”Bottle Let Me Down,” where Emmylou sings it more like a parlour
song. It is still brilliant, but minus
the core of depression that Merle Haggard captures. That said, I’d probably like it the best if I’d
heard it first, it is so close to equal to the original.
That isn’t to say Emmylou can’t
deliver a parlour song. She is tender
when she wants to be, but she also presents the image of a strong woman, secure
in her sexuality and determined to have a good time and sing about it. I’m not sure she has ever equaled “Feelin’ Single – Seein’ Double” off of her
next record, “Elite Hotel” but two tracks on “Pieces of the Sky” come close.
Her cover of the Shel Silverstein
classic, “Queen of the Silver Dollar”
is every bit the equal of Dr. Hook’s version from around the same time. The song is about a woman who frequents
taverns, but is as royal as any princess.
Unlike Dr. Hook, which pities the protagonist in places, Emmylou’s song
is a celebration that you can be a bit rough around the edges and still hold
your head up high. What’s more, she has
the advantage (and chutzpah) of turning the final chorus to the first person,
singing:
“Yes, I’m the Queen of the Silver Dollar
“Yes, I’m the Queen of the Silver Dollar
I rule this smoky kingdom
My scepter is a wine
glass
And a barstool is my throne.
Now the jesters flock around me
Tryin’ to win my favours
To see which one will take the
Queen of the Silver Dollar Home.”
Hearing that, I couldn’t help but
think the little girl with the coat of many colors was all grown up.
The second great party song is
Rodney Crowell’s “Bluebird Wine” a
song about tying one on, minus the depressing backstory behind “Bottle Let Me Down.” “Bluebird
Wine” is a song about throwing a party, starting early and going late and
loud. Emmylou sings it like she’s been
there, and makes you feel like you’re out there with her and her friends,
sitting on the porch on a summer evening, laughing it up and enjoying life.
Yet for all her party girl,
beer-out-of-the-bottle bravado, Emmylou is even more powerful when she decides
to go for raw emotion.
Her voice is perfectly suited, so
strong, yet so seemingly fragile I don’t think I’ve ever listened to one of her
albums where at least once the hairs on the back of my neck didn’t stand
up. On “Pieces of the Sky” it happened
twice.
The first time is on her classic, “Boulder to Birmingham,” the one song on
this record she co-wrote, that had me wishing there were more. From its opening lines:
“I don’t want to hear a love song
I got on this airplane just to fly”
You know you’re gonna be hearing a
love song. And when later she sings:
“I was in the wilderness and the canyon was on fire
And I stood on the mountain in the night and I watched it
burn.
I watched it burn.”
You are burning on the
inside. Desire for that voice coming out
of your speakers, a voice that you know will haunt you, desire to know a love
so deeply it would move a person to volunteer to put their safety in the bosom
of Abraham (if you wonder what’s so special about that, ask his son,
Isaac). A love so compelling that when
she says she’d walk from Boulder to Birmingham, you not only believe her, but
you’d walk with her. As love songs go,
this one is as perfect as they get. It’s
a prayer and it’s a cry for mercy, when love’s fires are so out of hand you’ve
got no choice but to stand there and watch them burn. Love’s a dangerous thing, folks, and Emmylou’s
voice is a dangerous medium to get the message as you’ll find.
For all of “Boulder to Birmingham’s” firestorms, it is the introspective, gentle
Emmylou, whispering to your soul in “Before
Believing” that hits harder. From uttering
of the first line, the single word, ‘winter,’
rising in tone as she slowly pronounces it, telling you things are going to get
cold now.
Paired with one of the most
elegant guitar riffs you’ll ever hear trill off of a country record, Emmylou’s
confessional is a song full of truths so profound, you only speak them to the
closest person in your life, and only at four in the morning, when the darkness
is the only thing that can blanket you enough to brave the cold and speak.
Even after hearing “Before Believing” dozens of times, I’m
still not sure what it is entirely about.
The repeating refrain hints at it:
“I told you everything I could about me
I told you everything I could.”
The line haunts you with the
unknown things the singer couldn’t tell you.
Even in that dark and honest moment, there is some fragile and unseen centre
that Emmylou’s voice hints at, while still leaving you guessing.
There is one verse in this song
that gets me every time:
“How would you feel if the world was falling apart around
you
Pieces of the sky were falling in your neighbour’s yard
But not on you
Wouldn’t you feel just a little bit funny
Think maybe there’s something you oughta do”
Every time I hear this song I feel
the oppressive presence of the end of the world around the corner. A plague, nuclear winter, the zombie apocalypse
– pick your poison. The aloneness of it
all is pervasive, but Emmylou’s voice cuts through the cold and the dark,
giving a gentle prod, and reminding you to pick yourself up and find the
strength to check on the neighbor.
Almost twenty years later, with
her song “Winter”, Tori Amos would
write one of the greatest, most thoughtful songs ever about the struggle for human
connection in the face of the frigid chasm that separates our individual
consciousnesses. But as great as “Winter” is, that season got its start in
1975, with a raven-haired beauty who had the voice of an angel, but was brave
enough on her first big album to not let it type-cast her as one.
Sure, you could argue there are
three better records, but hopefully you’ll be inspired to go get this one
anyway. It’s as good a place to start as
any.
Best Tracks: Bluebird Wine, Boulder to Birmingham, Before
Believing, Queen of the Silver Dollar.
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