A Simple Song Gets Complex With A Second Look

I love this song, but I was hard-pressed to say what's extraordinary about it until I listened -- really listened -- to the lyrics.

"I fell in love in Cincinnati," Steve Gulley sings, following with the standard tale of a naive young man falling prey to a citified gold-digger, and a chorus that you wouldn't write home about. The final verse goes like this:

I wish that I was in Kentucky
With mama, and papa dear
But mama's gone now, and so is papa
And Kentucky's a long way from here

And, all of a sudden, the chorus makes horrible sense:

It's a lonesome feeling when you're traveling
Down a lonesome road, down a lonesome road
Nobody cares a thing about you
It's a heavy load, it's a heavy load.

The lonesome road is the Hillbilly Highway, both literal and metaphorical, that Appalachian migrants took to escape the poverty at home for the jobs to be found in the wealthy, industrial north.

More than one bluegrass pioneer made this journey -- Bill Monroe, Red Allen, and The Osborne Brothers, among others. Like this song's protagonist, The Osborne Brothers journeyed from Kentucky to Ohio. Eventually, they found musical success. Without the family, culture, and institutions that had sustained them back home, they found their share of loneliness and isolation, too.

This is Steve Gulley, Dale Ann Bradley, and Debbie Gulley with "Lonesome Feeling".

A Certified Classic ... What There Is Of It

The absolute euphoria I felt when I was bitten by the bluegrass bug was tempered with sadness. As I learned more about the music, I discovered that many of my new heroes -- Bill Monroe, John Duffey, Jimmy Martin, Chubby Wise, and Jim McReynolds, to name a few -- had recently passed on. Sonny Osborne had retired fron the stage, and Ralph Stanley had quit playing the banjo.

Thank God for "High Lonesome", which immortalizes selected performances of these bluegrass titans on film, while providing heartfelt personal reflections, unflinching historical context, and exceptionally apt musical examples. The historical sweep is epic, the music prodigious (There must be between 50 and 75 songs, divided between live performances and soundtrack music here).

There are dozens of little moments to break your heart -- Jimmy Martin's consummate showmanship, even playing for a camera crew in his den; the rapturous looks on the faces of Sam Bush and David Grisman in the presence of their hero, Bill Monroe; the Osborne Brothers' infectious humor, offset by their sober recollections of the Bluegrass Depression; the Seldom Scene's easy camaraderie and brilliant musicianship.

The only problem with "High Lonesome" is that it's far too short to fully explore this greatest of American art forms. Director Rachel Liebling poured her heart into this project, and had to scramble for funding. If she'd been a big-name Hollywood director, then "High Lonesome" would have been the multi-part mini-series that bluegrass music truly deserves -- the huge, cinematic celebration I'm still waiting for.

How To Read Bluegrass Reviews and Covers

A 1972 reunion set featuring Jimmy Martin and The Osborne Brothers?

I can’t even.

Befitting the 70s, this is a wild set: Drums and bass are mixed way too hot. Martin, ever the loose cannon, takes some time collecting himself. Martin and Bobby Osborne debate the efficacy of a new addition to the traditional bluegrass lineup, trying it out on a much-beloved sacred song.

Head festival honcho, Carlton Haney, requests a number from the stage. Though the trio clearly hasn’t rehearsed it, “Hit Parade Of Love” turns out to be the highlight of the set – proving that you can put great musicians on the spot, and they’ll perform like the virtuosos they are.

Sonny Osborne’s banjo picking is as fiery as it gets and, oh, those famed trio harmonies.

Guess these three didn’t hate each other quite as much as some folks imply.

Jimmy Martin and The Osborne Brothers, when they were just babies in the business. Even then, they had a top-notch vocal blend.

They would all go on to better things, but tremendous talent was evident in this very early recording, entitled, “You’ll Never Be the Same”.

Excuse me if I don’t say anything intelligent. I am STOKED that somebody uploaded this thing. Sonny Osborne is one of the last great bluegrass banjoists in that, when you hear him play, you know it’s him; his tone is unmistakable – as are his sense of fun and adventurous spirit.

It’s the latter that distinguishes this tune, “Siempre” (“Always”). It’s undeniably bluegrass, with a strong Latin flavor. Bobby’s mandolin even mimics the sound of jarocha – Mexican harp music from Veracruz – or Jackson Browne’s “Linda Paloma” if your education hasn’t extended that far.