I used to have this dream. I was, like John or Alan Lomax, driving in my big old car with a clunky reel-to-reel tape recorder in the back seat. I would cruise up and down the country roads searching for the lost guitar players and blues singers of another generation. It was a remarkable, romantic dream to be sure — but I kept dreaming it. After Mississippi John Hurt was rediscovered, and Bukka White, and a photo of Robert Johnson, and on and on — I kept having that dream. I was young when it started … I had it again last week. For almost forty years I’ve been dreaming this dream on and off again. Even when it seems that everyone who’s going to be rediscovered *has* already got himself an agent, and a record contract for a duet with Carlos Santana, I keep dreaming.
It turns out, by the look of a couple of recent books, that this isn’t such a pipe dream after all. There are people out there, ready to be discovered or rediscovered; you just have to know where to look. Mountains of Music: West Virginia Traditional Music From ‘Goldenseal’ suggests that local fairs and fiddle competitions are a good place to start. This book is a compilation of articles from Goldenseal, a magazine which seeks to preserve and foster West Virginia traditional culture. The book is divided into four sections: fiddlers, banjo players, dulcimer players and guitarists. Each article is a brief but intimate biography of a musician devoted to his/her craft, and contains details of a life making music — and making room for music in life.
The reader gets a real feel for life in West Virginia, and a sense of the everyday existence of these miners, laborers, house wives and farmers … who also happen to be virtuosic musicians.
(Institute of Island Studies, 1999)
(University of Illinois Press, 1999)
“‘I guess spending so much of their lives near the earth really challenged them to try harder at everything and to get their priorities straight, to figure out what was really important in life,’ says John Gallagher [a 34 year old carpenter who studied fiddle with award winning fiddle master Melvin Wine].”
There is a sense of finality to many of the articles, as the editor updates each subject’s life with the news that “he passed away in 1994”; “died June 4, 1975”; “passed away at the age of 76”; or “died at her residence at the age of 80.”
Music lifts these men and women from the workaday world. The photographs are particularly telling. The plain, homely visage of American Gothic haunts these faces, except in the shots where they are playing music. Then their faces light up. Whether it is played in contests, at the local square dance, at the tent revival meeting or on the front porch, music is an integral part o their lives and they take it seriously.
“We sing songs, tragedies, that’s warning, that’s songs of warning, for you. If you listen to the words and you can gather the feelings and the thought. Don’t let this happen to you! The song’s sad, remember what you hear! We sing gospel songs, songs of the Bible. They’re to be obeyed, respected in that way. In other words, when you’re singing a song of the Bible, it’s got many words in it that will teach you how to do unto others as you would have ’em do unto you.”
As I read this book (leisurely and in small portions, one life at a time as you read a magazine), I found myself realizing my dream of cruising the back roads and discovering new music. I found myself listening to Dock Boggs and I couldn’t help but put the book down from time to time to pick out a tune on my guitar. I heartily recommend Mountains of Music.
Continuing my imaginary drive — up to the East Coast of Canada — I see geography which is more familiar. I have actually driven these roads, walked up these drives and spoken to these people. Prince Edward Island is one of the most beautiful spots on the face of the earth. The people are friendly and warm, and know the meaning of hospitality.
Edward D. Ives’ (he prefers ‘Sandy’) book of local folksongs, Drive Dull Care Away: Folksongs From Prince Edward Island, begins with a visit to PEI in 1957. He drove up from Maine, taking the ferry across, which until recently was the only way to get there. He was searching for information on the life and work of the “lumberjack songmaker Larry Gorman” and he found much, much more.
‘Sandy’ begins with a brief but crystal clear definition of folksong, “songs passed on chiefly by oral tradition in small-group, face-to-face situations.”
He calls any song that was sung in PEI a Prince Edward Island folksong, and confesses off-island origins for two-thirds of the songs he presents. He then jumps headlong into a description of that first visit — looking for Larry Gorman.
This is fascinating reading — part detective story, part travelogue — but what impresses is the openness of the people and their willingness to help him in his search.
Ives follows leads and is introduced to folk singers, fiddlers and guitarists — the same ‘salt-of-the-earth crew who populated Mountains of Music. .
“‘Welcome to PEI'” read the sign I saw painted on a shed roof as the old Abegweit pulled into her slip that muggy misty Saturday in early June, and somehow–even through the excitement and apprehension of starting out on a new adventure–I felt welcomed ….”
Drive Dull Care Away is a record of that adventure. Ives’ excitement is contagious as he describes meetings, and catalogues songs along the way. There are unforgettable characters like Big Jim Pendergast, who promised “Go up and get on your best bib and tucker. We’re going to visit some of the split-tailed aristocracy of this town!” and then marched into Government House to see the Lieutenant Governor with the announcement “Jim Pendergast is out here and wants to see him!” Within minutes Ives was talking to the Lieutenant Governor, getting his blessing on the quest, because if “Jim Pendergast [says you’re all right]” that was plenty good enough for him.
The narrative is punctuated by the songs themselves. Lyrics, music and annotations are provided for 62 songs, and there is an accompanying CD remastered from Dr. Ives’ field recordings. These recordings provide aural evidence of the traditional performing styles which are now vanishing. The performers are honest, ordinary and plain. It’s like listening to your Uncle Mike sing sea shanties after a couple of beers. The CD may not win any Grammy Awards but it is absolutely fascinating — and a welcome addition to a wonderful book.
It is possible in the new millennium to drive down back roads and uncover our past. Mountains of Music and Drive Dull Care Away will help you on your way.
