It takes until the sixth paragraph, and again at the end, but yes, I promise, this does involve Big Ben. And I did put a cute, if unrelated, pic at the end. But if you aren’t a music fan, it might be rough going.
But come on, who isn’t a music fan? Ben sure is.
One of the things I despise about my own mortality is knowing that, as I exhale my last gasp of Nitrogen, Oxygen, Carbon Dioxide, and water vapor, there will still be lots of music I would have loved if I’d ever gotten around to hearing it.
And today, as I slowly, or hopefully slowly, ease into decrepitude, I realized (uh duh) that when the reaper knocks (maybe it’ll be Walter White), there will be tons of music I already DO love but haven’t heard in years. It’s a daily goshdurn dilemma — do I explore new stuff, or do I luxuriate in something I already love?!? Oh Great One, please ease the hellish suffering of an existential music fan.
OK, I’ve regained some lucidity. Sorry about that.
But what got those alleged thoughts stirring was an absolutely stunning album, an old favorite I don’t think Karen, Ben or I have heard in 30 years, maybe more: Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt — Trio, from 1987.
We are always trying to introduce Ben to new music he might like. The deal, which he excepts, is that the first album on our long drives is Daddy and Mommy’s choice. After that, it’s whatever he wants.
But we have to be careful what new stuff we choose to play because, if he does fall in love with it and it enters heavy rotation, we might hear it 150 times a year, after year, after year. Even great, formerly-favorite music can become like an ear worm that has grown into an ear spike, a rusty one.
Some things Ben loves (Schubert’s Moments Musicaux, Bela Fleck’s Drive, Thelonious Monk’s Monk’s Music, Sam Bush’s Howling at the Moon, for example), even after hundreds of plays, never get old for me or Karen, and I have not figured out why, because other great music can go from fresh and tasty to spoiled, curdled, rancid and rotten. And that stinks when it’s music I love! Or once loved.
So the other day I was listening to an old episode of the my all-time favorite hour-long music program — Schickele Mix, on NPR, from the 1990s. (Peter Schickele is best-known as the comic music parodist, PDQ Bach). This episode was called “Trio,” and in his funny and engaging Schickele way, presented the threads that connect compositions and performances in trio form by Mozart, Bach, Earl Taylor & His Stoney Mountain Boys, Poulenc, Gerry Mulligan & Chet Baker, Gilbert & Sullivan, Zelenka…
…And, “The Pain of Loving You,” the opening cut of Trio. And it almost had me in tears. It is some of the most gorgeous music ever created. And the goosebumps told me it might be a great album to re-introduce to Ben.
I know I might be preaching to one huge choir, because Trio is not exactly an obscurity. Grammy and CMA awards, hit singles, millions of copies sold, number one on the Billboard charts. Oh yeah, and three of the greatest, and most popular, songbirds of our time.
But if there’s one thing I am excellent at, it’s forgetting things. But this, I remembered. I just needed some reminding.
So when I retrieved the album and saturated my brain with it, my memory was confirmed. Every single track, a grand slam.
And not just for the singing. The trio brought along a bunch of old friends and brilliant collaborators that elicit almost as many gasps as the voices: Bill Payne, Albert Lee, David Lindley, Ry Cooder, John Starling, Herb Pedersen, Mark O’Connor!!! Frankly, you don’t even need singers for that bunch to create a great album.
And producer George Massenburg might deserve some credit too. No doubt the trio knew what they wanted, but this could have leaned into a pop or commercial country sound.
And it doesn’t, not a bit. It’s largely acoustic, and the electric instruments, like slide guitar, are not of the blast-it-out rock that commercial country has been for a few lifetimes by now. Half the tracks don’t even have drums! Before we used the term “retro,” this was retro.
But back to the heavenly trio. Parton, Harris and Ronstadt were solidly in their primes, they shared lead vocals, and their three-part harmony has never been excelled by anybody, in any genre.
Keep in mind — and this is a biggie — Auto-Tune wasn’t invented until 1997, a decade later. Auto-Tune is a nifty, insidious little app that lets singers sing perfectly on key and in tune even if they are off key and out of tune. It’s standard equipment in any studio these days, and used so often I always assume singers have been “helped.”
Caruso never needed auto-tune.
Neither did Parton, Harris or Ronstadt.
As for Ben and Trio, it will be awhile before we know if he loves it enough to request it. Introducing him to new music is easy. He is usually happy, or at least not unhappy, to listen to the Mommy/Daddy selection at the beginning of our visits. We play music we think he might adopt as his own, several times, at least. It is only after we move on to something else that we find out whether he liked something enough to request it. And when it happens, it delights us.
I also title music files for the car’s sound system in a way he he will remember easily. Instead of “Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt — Trio,” the file is simply titled with two words:
TRIO Dolly.
We’d be thrilled to accept either one.
