There are occasions when I am actually ahead of the curve, when I have taken to some cultural artifact, artist, or genre before popular culture at-large has. Now, I grant you that this happens about as often as Brigadoon appears out of the mists of the Scottish Highlands, but it does happen. One instance of this exceedingly rare phenomenon occurred back in the late 1990s when I dug into the folk music of the American South years before the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack was flying off of the shelves at Starbucks in the early days of the new millennium.
My decision to dive into this corner of America’s musical past was likely the confluence of multiple events. The first is that I was a fan of some alt-country and that genre’s progenitor, Uncle Tupelo, had covered various old-timey songs like “No Depression in Heaven”, “Coalminers”, and “Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down” so I was inspired to investigate the versions of these songs that had inspired the band. And, afterwards, that whole area of American folk music.
On a less personal note, the second was that American folk music of the Southern variety was in the air in the years leading up to O Brother, Where Art Thou?. There was the aforementioned alt-country movement making inroads into the larger popular culture and 1997 saw the release of Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music on CD. This album inspired many rock musicians such as Bob Dylan and The Grateful Dead and its re-release engendered a lot of conversation about the artists featured on it, what material Smith chose not to include, the roots of rock, et al.
The last event here was again a personal one. My roommate had bought Sounds of the South, a 4-CD box set of Alan Lomax field recordings from around the American south made in 1959-60.
It was like Fate was leading me along and I immediately dove into the album. It gave a wide overview of the material that Lomax recorded on those particular recording trips. There’s Blue Ridge Mountain music, blues, “Negro” church music, white spirituals, and American folk songs for children. The set captures some stunning performances of simply vital music.
After I had absorbed Sounds of the South, I discovered that Rounder Records had released more of this stuff in the form of a 13-CD series called Southern Journey which compiled previously released recordings from Lomax's 1959-60 recording trips as well as material that had yet to see the light of day. I ended up buying the first 5 or 6 and I and my wallet lived to the tell the tale as diving into the world of Alan Lomax recordings is truly going down the rabbit hole. His recordings are so numerous and so varied, it can take a lifetime to sort through.
The first volume of the Southern Journey series was subtitled “Voices from the American South” and is basically a tantalizing sample of the various types of music that the other 12 volumes would cover more in-depth. One song from this album that has stuck with me over the years (decades!) is “The Last Words of Copernicus” as performed by the Alabama Sacred Harp Singers.
Sounds of the South had, if memory serves, a couple Sacred Harp songs and they certainly made an impression on me. These are a cappella songs performed by a group of singers and the result is a stunning, if I may borrow a Phil Spector phrase, wall of sound.
Sacred Harp or shape note singing, as it's also known as, began in 17th century New England. Liner notes say that it was developed “as a way to teach the small congregation lacking instruments and trained singers to function as a choir.” It continues “Hymns were written out with bass, treble, and soprano parts” – fa, so, la – and charts have unique notation. (Check out https://fasola.org/ for more info.)
“The Last Words of Copernicus” is apparently an 18th century poem that was brought into the Sacred Harp world 100 or so years later. The power of the performance struck me immediately and it became an instant favorite of mine. As with all Sacred Harp songs, it has a spine-tingling polyphony of voices that just dig into your soul. I think what set “The Last Words of Copernicus” apart for me was that it was a little bit faster than the other songs I had heard and, rather than everyone just singing at the same time, some lines are offset as in a round. And so different strands all come together at the end just as various elements of our lives do when our time comes.
The piece ends with these lines:
And thou refulgent orb of day in brighter flames array'd
My soul which springs beyond thy sphere no more demands thy aid
These words along with the wistful tone of the song really hit home when I was at my father’s house on the day that my stepmother died. She was in the hospital and it was understood that her days were numbered. My stepsister and a couple stepbrothers were at her side when she passed while I was at home with my father. One of my stepsiblings called to deliver the terrible news and my father was shattered. He began sobbing inconsolably and darted around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. He’d bounce off a wall into the dining room and then turn around and head for the living room.
It was a long day and I was very relieved when the old man fell asleep as this afforded me a little time to breathe. I cannot recall if I had the Southern Journey CD in my car or a mix CD or what but I had “The Last Words of Copernicus” with me. The silence of being alone was too much so I put it on and was overwhelmed by its aching beauty and the sadness of the moment as a sense of despondency still hung in the air like a miasma. I would have to deal with my father again soon enough but listening to “The Last Words of Copernicus” that night helped put my mind at ease.
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