week of  2/20/02
 
 
 

Appalachia left behind
Music truthfully depicts heritage, but lyrics are at odds with the culture
By Gary Carden


Now what you aimin to do up hyar?

What do ye think you’re gonna find?

Stranger, what did ye say yer name was?

And whar did you say you was gwine?

— From “The Outlander Meets the Native” on Daniel Gore’s CD Ways That Are Dark


When I blundered onto an advertisement for this CD in a catalogue issued by the University of Tennessee Press, my heart went pitty-pat. According to the promotion material, the recording was “a musical companion to Horace Kephart’s Our Southern Highlanders.” Specifically, the majority of the 14 songs were inspired by episodes in Kephart’s book. I immediately envisioned wondrous music by banjo, fiddle, guitar and mandolin — something that captured the essence of the Great Smokies. I was almost right.

Essentially, the songs deal with the following: Kephart’s arrival in the Deep Creek section of Swain County in the early 1900s (“The Outlander Meets the Native”); Kephart’s meeting with a near-mythical pig (“The Pig Belial”); a mournful, shape-note, religious composition written by “Singing Billy” Walker in 1831 (“French Broad”); Kephart’s meeting with a dangerous federal agent called “Mr. Quick” (“The Snakestick Man”); Mr.Quick’s unsuccessful pursuit of three bootleggers (“A Sugarland Raid”); the escape of a bootlegger from the Swain County jail (“Buck’s Exit”); a murder ballad (“The Killing of Hol Rose”); a clan feud cum Bonnie and Clyde ballad (“courting a Feud”); Kephart’s trek into the wilderness with the bear hunters (“A Dream of Bear”); a rollicking banjo tune for hard-drinking bear hunters (“Did You Ever See the Devil?”) Kephart’s prophetic warning about the coming of trains (“The March of the Leviathan”); the title song which celebrates moonshine and mystery (“Ways That are Dark”), and a song that eulogizes high peaks in the Smokies and their attendant ravens (“Noah Freed the Raven First”).

The liner notes are profusely illustrated — in addition to reproducing all of the lyrics, the notes are packed with old photographs of cabins, settlers, bear hunters and stills. In addition, the significant folks are there: Kephart, Quill Rose, Mr. Quick (and his snakestick). In fact, the cramping of photos, words, illustrations and acknowledgments makes for difficult reading (lyrics imprinted on duotone photographs, illustrations, etc.)

Certainly the subjects are diverse and provocative, and the actual music is wonderful. The banjo, guitar, fiddle and mandolin blend in a magical harmony and all of the songs, regardless of the quality of the lyrics, evoke the best of that “high, lonesome sound” of the Appalachians.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the lyrics. The most lovingly rendered selection, “French Broad,” rings with authenticity. It is the only piece not written by Daniel Gore. With a few rare exceptions, such as “The Pig Belial,” which is a lively, quirky piece, the words are “too literate.” For example, “Noah Freed the Raven First,” actually makes a literal reference to Poe’s Raven and “Nevermore.” Material like that may demonstrate the composer’s sophistication, but (for me) they are painfully at odds with the region’s traditional language. When regional (and archaic) language is used it merely sounds pretentious — the use of “pop-skull” and “cutty sark,” for example. (The overly crowded liner notes also sport a “lexicon” of terms used in the lyrics.)

Certainly, the multi-talented Daniel Gore did some impressive research in preparing this collection. There are references (and blurbs) from Karl Nicholas, a WCU professor who did a book on Appalachian dialect; George Frizzell at WCU’s Hunter Library; the Folklife Room in Washington, D.C.; and the UNC Library at Chapel Hill, as well as an awesome list of gratitude to relatives, ancestors and the rest of mankind.

Perhaps the use of language that seems at odds with the culture is a minor defect. Certainly, “Ways That are Dark” has much to recommend it otherwise — especially the musical skill of Craig Smith, Rickie Simpkins, Jack Lawrence and Tony Williamson. In conclusion, I am prompted to note that while moonshine, mountain feuds, and bear hunting are vital parts of Appalachian culture, they are not the only ones. Certainly, they are the ones that seem to enthrall observers, including Kephart. I am not suggesting that they should be omitted from all literature that undertakes the task of reflecting Appalachian culture with both authenticity and integrity, but their singular prominence merely augments the stereotypes that already thrive.