Filed under: Music
Kick back the ol’ feet, turn off my palm pilot and my halogen lamp, put my laptop into ‘hibernate’ mode, close the door, and plug my mp3 player into my oversize, albeit banged up and old, computer speakers, turn on an Allison Krauss and I am in another world. Thing is, it probably ain’t back on the porch. I’ve been there, and that’s different. So why is it so pleasing what Allison Krauss does – and why is she making ‘bluegrass’ palatable to normal folk around the country and globe? Because it isn’t the real thing. But, truly, am I the real thing? Is Ralph Stanley… or for that matter, any of those folks sitting on the porch in the rural south, singing into some sort of contraption for some sort of sweet-talking boy from the north?
Can the ‘real thing’ be re-created, modified, re-mixed, written just like the real thing from scratch? Sting said in an AP article on Feb. 7, 2004 of his song, “My Ain True Love” on the Cold Mountain soundtrack:
“It’s the complete opposite of what I give myself when I make an album. I can do and say and feel what I like when I make a record. When I went to see “Cold Mountain,” and they said there’s room for a song here, I was tied to the film. I was tied to the mood, tied to the characters, tied to the language people would have used in those times.”
I know that I’m a fake, but I can sing with soul. And Sting certainly can. Why is that? And is it the same soul that Almeda Riddle sings with, or Mrs. Sidney Carter, or any of the other ‘field’ recordings from folks’ front porches have?
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