Laura’s Song-With Patsy Cline In Mind

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Patsy Cline performing her classic I Fall To Pieces.

“Frank, I am going to put my voice exercises CD in the player so be quiet, alright,” Laura explained, a little crack in her voice as usual when she was getting ready to perform, as I started up the car in our driveway on that cold clear February Saturday night a couple of years ago. I could almost feel my teeth grinding at the thought of being held captive while Laura went up, down, around, double-back, and did a reverse twist through the scales and other little riffs with some hysterical instructor in order to loosen up her “instrument,” her voice. I can listen almost endlessly to that voice, occasionally stopping in my tracks by it, when she is up in her study, her “music and meditation room” she calls it, but this CD thing is from hell. Yikes! Well at least it was to be a short ride over to the church in Lakeville that night unlike when she decides to go full bore on one of our now very occasional rides back to her growing up home in Centerville. That’s in upstate New York. Jesus.

That night though I was actually in a forgiving and tolerant mood because it was to be Laura’s singing debut, in public anyway. The event, a members’ concert, was to held in the ever-generous and forgiving Lakeville Universalist-Unitarian church assembly hall (the U-U circuit we laughingly call it) and sponsored by the Lost Art Folk Society to which she belongs. As the name of the group indicates these are old folkies from back in the 1960s who never gave up that folk minute, or perhaps didn’t know that it had passed by. We had been to others such concerts in the past and while that nostalgic time moment might have passed these aficionados, for the most part, know their stuff.

And that was why Laura was going full bore, do, re mi, all the way to the hall to make sure her voice would hold. Naturally she was nervous, despite that great voice and intense preparation, in be in front of peers who knew the good from the bad, and the off note from the true one. She was also just afraid of crowds for a whole bunch of reasons that need no explanation here and now. Moreover Laura was not performing solo but as part of a three women group, dubbed Three Is A Crowd. So she was fretting in between la, la, las about whether Ellie, the “max mamma” (if there is such a thing in the universe) harmonica player, had remembered to set her alarm so she would arrive on time (or, maybe, arrive at all) and Dotty, the main guitar player, had not danced off into space somewhere. All that fretting was for naught because as we approached the church we could see the pair of folk refugees emerging from Ellie’s 1973 Volkswagen bus. Ya, it was that kind of crowd.

No sooner had the three “sisters” greeted each other than they immediately ran off to “practice” before their turn. Leaving me to wander in, pay my admission, and “save” seats. I was a regular “roadie” that night. I should explain the set-up. The way this Lost Art Folk members’ concert works, maybe the only way it could works, is that each act gets one song, or poem, bag-pipe playing (for real), juggling act, or whatever. Done. See everybody is looking for their fifteen minutes of glory but since the concert is only presented once a year the whole tribe shows up, at least those who survived the sixties. So there are maybe twenty-five or thirty acts listed. Since everybody has to be out by eleven so god, or his kindred, can rest for Sunday morning mass, or is it service, one to a customer is the only way to go. Except, naturally, human nature, ego, or just love of the music, can play tricks on the agenda. Like Jim Beam can juggle by himself in one act , play the accordion as Aztec Two-Step in a second, play the kazoo with Maria’s band in a third, sing bass with the Midnight Singers (they get two songs, by the way) and still only be counted as one act. Nice, huh, if you have the energy, or the chutzpah.

Three Is A Crowd in deference to Laura and her jitters was strictly working the one act theme for real that night. Except they would also all sing with the Midnight Singers at the end of the night but then half the audience would be too, and the other half would chime in from their seats as I knew from past experience. Ya, like I said it was that kind of crowd. The other thing is that the order of battle is random. As it turned out that night Three Is A Crowd was number fourteen in the first set (out of eighteen, then a little intermission, and the second set to conclude the evening). No good, not good for Laura’s jitters but that was the deal. The only thing to do was enjoy the acts and keep counting down. (Oh ya, and hold her hand once in a while.)

Like I say these people may have stepped out a time warp but most of them could perform, perform like crazy. Things like old time hills and hollows Appalachian mountain ballads, old country (Britain, Scotland Child ballad old country) , some American Carter Family country stuff, a few self-written poems, sea chanties, a couple of churchy things, a vaudeville number or two. The mix of the world songbook that you don’t hear about too much anymore except on a night like that. Some more modern stuff too for those not totally stuck in the sixteenth century. Then number fourteen was called by the MC. That folks is Three Is A Crowd in case you forgot.

As Ellie, Dotty, and Laura made their way up to the makeshift stage (used on Sunday for the pulpit service area, I think) I started to get nervous. Nervous because Laura was nervous, nervous that her throat would hold up, nervous, well just nervous. And nervous to hear which song they had selected to play. That was the point of that pre-performance practice. To see which one was working that night. Once they were set up I immediately put my head down so I could “really” listen to Laura’s voice. And hide any blushing. As it turned out they decided to perform the old Hank Ballard tune from the 1950s made famous by the late Patsy Cline, I Fall To Pieces. Good choice. After a little harmonica intro (that Ellie is a space-shot but she can wail that thing when she gets going) they started singing. Good, good harmony, and then… Somewhere around the lines “you want me to find someone else to love,” ya right around there Laura’s voice just meshed the three together so well that it almost brought a tear to my eye.

It was the kind of moment like, maybe, when Patsy had a good night getting it just right, not too slick not too sentimental. A moment like probably happened way back when somebody first decided that human voices could collectively be greater than the sum of their parts if you could just get that one meshing voice. Hey, I am just a music fan not a scholar, okay. But don’t take my word for it. After the show some guy , some guy who heard the same ethereal thing I heard and who I know knows his stuff, came up to Laura and said,” You did Patsy proud.” And she did.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AcWZV-FHB2U&feature=related

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Patsy Cline performing her classic I Fall To Pieces.

“Frank, I am going to put my voice exercises CD in the player so be quiet, alright,” Laura explained, a little crack in her voice as usual when she was getting ready to perform, as I started up the car in our driveway on that cold clear February Saturday night a couple of years ago. I could almost feel my teeth grinding at the thought of being held captive while Laura went up, down, around, double-back, and did a reverse twist through the scales and other little riffs with some hysterical instructor in order to loosen up her “instrument,” her voice. I can listen almost endlessly to that voice, occasionally stopping in my tracks by it, when she is up in her study, her “music and meditation room” she calls it, but this CD thing is from hell. Yikes! Well at least it was to be a short ride over to the church in Lakeville that night unlike when she decides to go full bore on one of our now very occasional rides back to her growing up home in Centerville. That’s in upstate New York. Jesus.

That night though I was actually in a forgiving and tolerant mood because it was to be Laura’s singing debut, in public anyway. The event, a members’ concert, was to held in the ever-generous and forgiving Lakeville Universalist-Unitarian church assembly hall (the U-U circuit we laughingly call it) and sponsored by the Lost Art Folk Society to which she belongs. As the name of the group indicates these are old folkies from back in the 1960s who never gave up that folk minute, or perhaps didn’t know that it had passed by. We had been to others such concerts in the past and while that nostalgic time moment might have passed these aficionados, for the most part, know their stuff.

And that was why Laura was going full bore, do, re mi, all the way to the hall to make sure her voice would hold. Naturally she was nervous, despite that great voice and intense preparation, in be in front of peers who knew the good from the bad, and the off note from the true one. She was also just afraid of crowds for a whole bunch of reasons that need no explanation here and now. Moreover Laura was not performing solo but as part of a three women group, dubbed Three Is A Crowd. So she was fretting in between la, la, las about whether Ellie, the “max mamma” (if there is such a thing in the universe) harmonica player, had remembered to set her alarm so she would arrive on time (or, maybe, arrive at all) and Dotty, the main guitar player, had not danced off into space somewhere. All that fretting was for naught because as we approached the church we could see the pair of folk refugees emerging from Ellie’s 1973 Volkswagen bus. Ya, it was that kind of crowd.

No sooner had the three “sisters” greeted each other than they immediately ran off to “practice” before their turn. Leaving me to wander in, pay my admission, and “save” seats. I was a regular “roadie” that night. I should explain the set-up. The way this Lost Art Folk members’ concert works, maybe the only way it could works, is that each act gets one song, or poem, bag-pipe playing (for real), juggling act, or whatever. Done. See everybody is looking for their fifteen minutes of glory but since the concert is only presented once a year the whole tribe shows up, at least those who survived the sixties. So there are maybe twenty-five or thirty acts listed. Since everybody has to be out by eleven so god, or his kindred, can rest for Sunday morning mass, or is it service, one to a customer is the only way to go. Except, naturally, human nature, ego, or just love of the music, can play tricks on the agenda. Like Jim Beam can juggle by himself in one act , play the accordion as Aztec Two-Step in a second, play the kazoo with Maria’s band in a third, sing bass with the Midnight Singers (they get two songs, by the way) and still only be counted as one act. Nice, huh, if you have the energy, or the chutzpah.

Three Is A Crowd in deference to Laura and her jitters was strictly working the one act theme for real that night. Except they would also all sing with the Midnight Singers at the end of the night but then half the audience would be too, and the other half would chime in from their seats as I knew from past experience. Ya, like I said it was that kind of crowd. The other thing is that the order of battle is random. As it turned out that night Three Is A Crowd was number fourteen in the first set (out of eighteen, then a little intermission, and the second set to conclude the evening). No good, not good for Laura’s jitters but that was the deal. The only thing to do was enjoy the acts and keep counting down. (Oh ya, and hold her hand once in a while.)

Like I say these people may have stepped out a time warp but most of them could perform, perform like crazy. Things like old time hills and hollows Appalachian mountain ballads, old country (Britain, Scotland Child ballad old country) , some American Carter Family country stuff, a few self-written poems, sea chanties, a couple of churchy things, a vaudeville number or two. The mix of the world songbook that you don’t hear about too much anymore except on a night like that. Some more modern stuff too for those not totally stuck in the sixteenth century. Then number fourteen was called by the MC. That folks is Three Is A Crowd in case you forgot.

As Ellie, Dotty, and Laura made their way up to the makeshift stage (used on Sunday for the pulpit service area, I think) I started to get nervous. Nervous because Laura was nervous, nervous that her throat would hold up, nervous, well just nervous. And nervous to hear which song they had selected to play. That was the point of that pre-performance practice. To see which one was working that night. Once they were set up I immediately put my head down so I could “really” listen to Laura’s voice. And hide any blushing. As it turned out they decided to perform the old Hank Ballard tune from the 1950s made famous by the late Patsy Cline, I Fall To Pieces. Good choice. After a little harmonica intro (that Ellie is a space-shot but she can wail that thing when she gets going) they started singing. Good, good harmony, and then… Somewhere around the lines “you want me to find someone else to love,” ya right around there Laura’s voice just meshed the three together so well that it almost brought a tear to my eye.

It was the kind of moment like, maybe, when Patsy had a good night getting it just right, not too slick not too sentimental. A moment like probably happened way back when somebody first decided that human voices could collectively be greater than the sum of their parts if you could just get that one meshing voice. Hey, I am just a music fan not a scholar, okay. But don’t take my word for it. After the show some guy , some guy who heard the same ethereal thing I heard and who I know knows his stuff, came up to Laura and said,” You did Patsy proud.” And she did.