Musical Instincts

I begin this note with some trepidation. I realize those folks who think of me as a spiritual missionary will be disillusioned with my musical tastes. I also realize that several of my friends who see me as a “treasure trove of trivia” for classic rock ‘n roll will be stunned to find that I actually enjoy a wide variety of music.

Ah, well. Sometimes all you can do is trust your instincts.

All of this began with a note sent to me last week by my friend and former co-worker, Darryl Lawler. He identified (in his opinion) the five greatest music albums of all time. Of course, I wrote back quickly with some observations including the fact that he had not mentioned any of Bob Dylan’s best efforts.

After my back and forth with Darryl, I began to ask myself what music had deeply impacted me in life. In essence, what music albums had made a difference to me? Since I was in the car by myself when I was thinking on this question, I didn’t have to impress anyone. As a result, I was a bit surprised by some of my own answers.

The first album that ever reached me on some deeper level was one by the Weatherford Quartet… the 1956 to 1964 line-up which included Glen Payne as lead singer; Lily Weatherford as alto; Earl Weatherford singing baritone; Armond Morales, bass; and, Henry Slaughter on piano. “Rock a My Soul” was a personal favorite. The tight blend of harmonies and general level of musicianship made even old songs sound new.

If God grants our selfish wishes in heaven I am going to be able to sing that tenor part on “Rock a My Soul” someday.

I met Earl Weatherford by the side of the road early one morning in East Texas. At that point in my life I drove a Volkswagen and had hair almost to my shoulders. When I told him how much I enjoyed his music and how much it meant to me, he wondered if I was pulling his leg. Looking back I can understand why he was a bit surprised.

Many of you will be surprised by the next album I chose in my internal conversation. In representing the genre of rock ‘n roll which obviously has a place in my heart, I could have chosen Revolver, Pet Sounds or Machine Head. Abby Road meant a lot to me at a certain point in time. However, the album that came to mind most intuitively was Déjà Vu by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.

Honestly, I believe I may be cheating on this one. I think the album may simply represent a place in time to me. However, I also think it represents any album which has excellent acoustic guitar combined with a social consciousness. I have always been a sucker for that mix of magic. Cat Stevens, Woody Guthrie, CSN&Y… it doesn’t matter. I enjoy it.

Déjà Vu combines sweet idealism, militant blues and excellent vocal harmonies. Sadly, it turned out to be one of only two real albums these guys did together. Apparently, it is hard to co-exist with that much ego packed into one recording studio. Besides the “60’s idealism” was always easier to talk about (or sing about) than it was to live out in the reality of everyday life.

My third album will not be as surprising to those of you who know me. Only Visiting This Planet by Larry Norman was released by Verve in 1972 and on the MGM label in 1973. Side one included, “Why Don't You Look Into Jesus?” “The Outlaw;” “Without Love You Are Nothing;” and, “I Wish We'd All Been Ready,” among others. The amount of time I have spent performing those songs over the years probably merits the inclusion of this album on my “high impact” list.

Larry was an interesting fellow – a real pioneer in contemporary Christian music. He was also one of the most sarcastic individuals I have ever listened to. My guess is that he was not easy to get along with either. Still, his music had a big influence on my life.

Besides, “Why Should the Devil Have All the Good Music?” (found on side B) became a philosophical underpinning to my perspective on music. My own answer is that he shouldn’t, and that he doesn’t. However, some Sundays I do occasionally doubt my own wisdom on the subject.

Back to those albums bound to surprise, I would have to add Antal Doráti’s stereophonic recording of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, or, Ouverture Solennelle, L'Année 1812, Op. 49. Dorati used an actual carillon called for in the score and the bells are rung about as close to a zvon (a uniquely Russian bell set) as you can get. The Dorati recording also uses an actual French period cannon manufactured around 1812, which belonged to the United States Military Academy at West Point.

Mr. Johnson, my eighth grade music teacher, made us listen to that album again and again and again. Believe me, I could continue for some time with those “agains.” We wore that album out!

The reason this album impacted me so much is that I believe that it led to my love of classical music. I love string quartets. Chamber orchestras relax me. Bach, Handel, Jean Sibelius and Sergei Vasilievich Rachmaninoff are all favorites. I still enjoy Tchaikovsky. However, truth be told, I mention the album for its impact on me and not the fact that I enjoy listening to it anymore.

Mr. Johnson may just have forced me to listen to it “one too many times” for my own good.

One album that I can never listen to enough is Steve Goodman’s Somebody Else’s Troubles. This was Goodman's sophomore effort which he described as a "buncha Jewish guys sitting around playing the blues...” Some of his friends added excellent guest turns. Bob Dylan actually played on the title song operating under the pseudonym of Robert Milkwood Thomas. He did that kind of thing in those days.

The album included, “The Dutchman,” “Chicken Cordon Bleus,” “Somebody Else’s Troubles” and “The Vegetable Song.” My girls grew up with Susan and I singing the last one to them. If I was to get out a guitar right now (and they were here with me) they could sing all the words without even breaking a sweat.

The emotional centerpiece of the album was a devastating solo acappella song entitled, "The Ballad of Penny Evans." I have heard a lot of protest songs in my life. This one is the best.

Even though it makes it six albums and not five, I have to add one more to my list.

When I was dating Susan we used to sit in front of the fireplace in her parent’s family room and listen to a record called Windjammer. This was a 1958 concept album based on a German or Scandinavian group of young sailors making a long training trip together on a three-masted vessel. In the course of the trip they apparently sang a lot and had orchestras magically appear at crucial moments.

You may think, “What a silly album to listen to in 1971!” You are probably right. There certainly was more important music to listen to back in those days.

Still, I cannot tell you how many times Susan fell asleep with her head on my lap listening to that album. When she did, I often found myself praying about us, about life and about where I would travel to one day. I have to believe those prayers have been answered many times over.

Besides, our daughter Kari is named for the song, “Kari Waits for Me.” You can’t beat that for high impact music.

Now, some of you are probably noting that even though I gave myself six albums, I still didn’t mention Bob Dylan. Of course, you are correct. Bob Dylan was always an influence, but none of his albums, when I thought about it, really changed me in a significant way. Surprisingly, if I had to choose one, I would probably go for Modern Times.

All of his life Dylan has tried to reflect the worn-down wisdom of some of his musical heroes like Woody Guthrie. At 65 he probably feels like he has rightfully earned the authenticity to go along with all his efforts. On Modern Times he struggles with faith, mortality and the relentless passage of time. I especially appreciate the line from the song “Nettie Moore.” “The world has gone black before my eyes; I’m beginning to believe what the Scriptures tell.” In another piece he sings, “I practice a faith that is long abandoned; ain’t no altars on this long and lonesome road.”

Powerful words for an interesting time in life and history. However, if I am honest, my appreciation of the album probably has more to do with the fact that a guy Bob Dylan’s age can still be musically relevant. It gives me hope that my middle-aged voice and arthritic fingers can do the same.