-Caveat Lector-

from:
http://www.charged.com/issue_1/adventure/stories/countrymusic/text.html
<A HREF="http://www.charged.com/issue_1/adventure/stories/countrymusic/text.ht
ml">http://www.charged.com/.../text.html</A>
-----
From, Zap Internet, Corp. AKA Zapata Oil . . .
Interesting,with what Cathy O'brien says about the country music scene, could
there be more than just gossip and articles at this site? Off-the-wall, I know
but just a thought.

i.e. --Now for the words. Don't get too fancy; this isn't Confession. Make
sure
it rhymes:

My heart is a horrible monster
Unleashed by a nuclear force
Its eyes can burn cities; but, baby, I love you
It kills without pause or remorse

If the metaphor isn't apparent, let the music do the talking.--

Om
K
-----
A-Rock-olypse Now
Blues? Country? Elvis? What lurks in the heartland of American music?

by Leeore Schnairson

And so it begins: we push through the misty Appalachians, exhausted yet
driven, halfway to our destination but only now beginning our adventure.
Where is the heart of rock n' roll? Is it still beating? It is our
mission--nay, our destiny--to find out.

Early on, I'd determined that my search would lead me southward, to the
streets and studios where blues, jazz, and country music first fused
together, makin' those ancient, achy-breaky hips shake and swing like
never before. Through the muck and mire of a thousand contrasting folk
legends I was prepared to trudge, banjo in hand, in the hopes of finally
reaching the light--the star of Sun Records, the Edison of rock n' roll,
the maestro of all things shake, rattle, and roll, the unforgettable,
undeniable, Elvis Aaron Presley.

Many books have been written on the subject of Elvis Presley, from
muckraking tomes such as Albert Goldman's "Elvis" to mucky tell-alls
such as "Behind the Iron Curtain: Brutal Beatings for Listening to
Elvis" and "A Star Reveals her Night of Love with Elvis." Disdaining
these highfalutin' methods of gleaning information, I chose instead to
approach the mystery of the King as he would have approached it himself:
with little applied study, scanty and unreliable source materials, a lot
of heart, and a roll of toilet paper in my pants.



------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nashville
In Nashville lies a nominal one-third of America's music business, most
of her music publishing, and the heart of country music itself. A steady
stream of tourists pours through the Country Music Hall of Fame and
Opryland, both of which focus on the ascent of country music, with a
focus on the Grand Ole Opry. "GOO" is the 72-year-running radio (and now
TV) show that charted the popularity of country music and showcased the
vanguard of its performers. George D. Hay, its founder and first
announcer (in the character of the Solemn Old Judge), said: "The Grand
Ole Opry is as simple as sunshine. It has a universal appeal because it
is built upon goodwill, and with folk music you experience the heartbeat
of a large population of Americans who labor for a living."

Hank Williams, later known as the Shakespeare of country music, got
called back for a record six appearances at GOO in 1949, while Elvis was
told after his 1954 GOO debut that he'd better stick to truck driving.
The Grand Ole Opry is now housed at Opryland, a gargantuan, tacky theme
park 9 miles northeast of town, on the Briley parkway off the I-40 east
loop. Tickets run about $15-20. Gray Line (615-883-5555) runs shuttle
buses to Opryland for $9 round-trip, with free pickup at area hotels and
campgrounds.

Information about the hall of Fame, GOO, and all things country can be
gleaned from www.countrymusic-usa.com.

In addition to being the home of America's favorite music, Nashville is
one of the South's most important economic and manufacturing centers, as
well as a hotbed of Christianity. One of Tennessee's leading
manufactured products is the Bible, and Nashville is home to a
corresponding multitude of evangelical colleges. The city is a melting
pot of Southern culture.



------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Country Music Hall of Fame
The grand objective of my stay in Nashville was to infiltrate the
Country Music Hall of Fame (615-255-5333; 4 Music Sq. East; accessible
by trolley; admission $10). Flaunting a 5-string banjo in an attempt to
blend into the crowd, I braved the masses thronged about Willie Nelson's
sneakers and Billy Ray Cyrus' jogging shirt.

The museum is a well-stocked larder of country and western memorabilia
that displays hundreds of guitars, original manuscripts of country hits,
and a fascinating history of the music as it moved from the hills to the
Opry and beyond the confines of America to be appreciated worldwide
(like Superman). The peculiar branch of country music that Elvis
pioneered, rockabilly, is given its due, enshrined within Elvis'
gold-plated Cadillac and gold-leaf piano.

Finally, the beneficent busts of Dolly Parton, Bill Monroe, the Stanley
Brothers, and Johnny Cash leer from the wall of a meditation room, which
leads to a shrine to Hank Williams, the Shakespeare of country music.



------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Essentials Part One
I observed and absorbed as much as I could, and synthesized a method of
writing country songs, an essential tool in unlocking the heart of the
Elvis mystery. Oh, yes--I'd been paying attention as I strolled among
the mounted guitars and handwritten originals of country classics at the
Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville: the words of a country tune are
as important, if not more important, than the melody and music.

Billy Ray Cyrus' "Achy Breaky Heart," which did as much for line dancing
as "Smells Like Teen Spirit" did for moshing, relies on the idea that
the heart is a sentient being, like a mailman, or a senator. Take away
that idea and the whole song falls apart. Hank Williams also gave the
heart discretionary powers in his "Your Cheatin' Heart." This seems to
be a tried and true conceit for country writing, so don't be afraid to
use it. Ways to make the heart come alive include the following:

* Don't shoot me, Officer Heart!
* Step on it, cabbie! I'm being followed by my heart!
* Turn that music down, you stupid heart.
* No, my heart didn't rip off a grocery in the Bronx. Dude, my heart
never even goes down there.
* My heart is like a flower. A loud, annoying flower.
* I have heart disease (love).

Now for the words. Don't get too fancy; this isn't Confession. Make sure
it rhymes:

My heart is a horrible monster
Unleashed by a nuclear force
Its eyes can burn cities; but, baby, I love you
It kills without pause or remorse

If the metaphor isn't apparent, let the music do the talking.



------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Essentials, Part Two: Playing The Banjo
To sink your hooks into the meaty heart of country, you need to dig your
fingers and your soul into a five-string banjo. The right banjo, of
course, is as difficult to find and master as the right manservant--but
will prove equally rewarding in the end. Here are some tips:

1. Count five strings. Each of your hands has this many fingers. If you
are missing a finger, you will end up with a tenor (four string) banjo.
Such is life. (Tenor and five-string banjos differ only in that the
latter has a bottom drone string, tuned to the top of a G chord. This
string allows for the great and funky bluegrass rolls that make modern
banjo what it is.)

2. Put fingerpicks on your right index and middle finger and a thumb
pick on your thumb. This will save your nails and prepare you for
Scruggs-style rolls. (Earl Scruggs was a pioneer of three-finger picking
technique and can be heard on the theme to the Beverly Hillbillies.)

3. Tune the strings to the following notes. Strings are counted top
(furthest from thumb) to bottom (closest to thumb).

D-1
B-2
G-3
D-4
G-5

4. Strike the following strings with the designated fingers: T for
thumb, I for index, and M for middle. Do nothing with your left hand.

T-4
I-3
M-2
T-5
M-1
I-2
T-3
M-1

You have picked a G chord. Huzzah!

5. Barring your left index finger across any fret on the neck will
change the chord. Theoretically, you can play any major chord simply by
holding down all the strings at any fret. This is more easily
accomplished with a slide. Now play, you fool!



------------------------------------------------------------------------
And Onward, To Memphis!
As the pitched whine of country music faded from my brain, Memphis
spangled the evenings with the steel wail of the blues. This is the city
where rhythm and blues was born, when musicians started fusing blues
with jazz just after World War II. The blues legacy lives on in the
streets, where musicians jam for coins, as well as in the plush B.B.
King's Blues Club, where the King of Blues sometimes stops in to spur
the dancing crowds to new heights of self-pitying ecstasy (901-524-5464,
143 Beale St.) A few notes I compiled on the blues as a mode of
expression:

1. The blues is both good and bad.
2. The subject of a blues song is something you do when you're sad. This
can include crying, worrying, and having the blues.
3. B.B. King has the blues every day.
4. To begin to express the blues, you must hold the I chord for 4
measures, the IV chord for 2, the I chord for 2 more, then one measure
each of V and IV, and finally 2 more measures of I (as in:
C/C/C/C/F/F/C/C/G/F/C/C) This form, like the sonnet, has many
 variations, and is the forum for a million different emotional trips.

Beale St. itself is Memphis' traditional musical hotspot, as well as the
locus of the city's tourist culture. This is where Elvis picked up his
non-traditional threads and licks. His mark is made in the
square-block-long resturant and shrine called Elvis Presley's Memphis
(www.epmemphis.com, 800-238-2000, 126 Beale St.).

Here I learned many useful things:

1. Elvis is the King.
2. His repast is fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and as many
as 100 popsicles at a time.
3. He is alternately great and narrow.
4. His adventures have been many: scuba diver, auto racer, professional
boxer, Civil War Hero--he even ruled an Arab protectorate as a sheikh.
5. His idol is Brando, his best friend is Jesus, and his son-in-law is
Michael Jackson.

North of Beale St. is the Memphis Music Hall of Fame, a mecca for blues
fans (97 S. Second St., admission $7.50). South of Beale St. is the
somewhat cheesy National Civil Rights Museum (450 Mulberry St.,
admission $5), built around the ruins of the LorraineMotel, where Martin
Luther King, Jr., was shot to death in 1968.



------------------------------------------------------------------------
O Holy Graceland
Graceland is a sacred place in a land notably bereft of pilgrimage
destinations between the east and west coasts. Its rather humble facade,
given the extent of its master's wealth and fame, allows only small but
concentrated displays of wealth, whether it be three televisions aligned
side by side to view simultaneous football games, or a King-sized bed
aboard an airliner with a huge gold-buckled seatbelt splayed across it.
Apparent through all the tack and bad taste is an innocence that belies
(or irradiates) Elvis' untouchable image. In addition to the mansion,
including the trophy building, there are two airplanes, an auto museum,
and a "Sincerely Elvis" exhibit of personal items and recollections by
those close to the King. (1-800-238-2000, http://www.elvis-presley.com,
exit 5-B off I-55 to Elvis Presley Blvd.; admission to all attractions
$18.50.)

At the door to the mansion, the tour guide informs all present that the
King, beyond any doubt, is dead to this world. Yeah, sure. That's what
they WANT you to think. We'll have to wait for a revelation from
above...or below. In the meantime, all we can do is believe, and keep on
takin' care of business.



Charged: Extreme Leisure. http://www.charged.com/
Copyright 1998 Zap Internet Corp. All rights reserved.

-----
Aloha, He'Ping,
Om, Shalom, Salaam.
Em Hotep, Peace Be,
Omnia Bona Bonis,
All My Relations.
Adieu, Adios, Aloha.
Amen.
Roads End
Kris

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