One reason bluegrass and old-time music is aesthetically superior to mainstream pop is that the bar for lyrics is set much higher—the song can’t simply reflect on an emotional state, it must tell a story. What’s more, it must the story in very few words, and those words must be simple and unadorned. With such severe restrictions, it takes artistry to say something profound, and when that happens the contrast between the simple context and the deep thought can take your breath away.
A good example is the song “The Old Home Place” by Rodney Dillard and Mitch Jayne, which tells the story of a farm boy who falls in love with a city girl, takes a job in town, is defeated by city life, and returns to find that his home is gone. Here’s the chorus:
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave the plow in the field
To look for a job in the town?
This is not just the complaint of one foolish young man. It is the cry of a prodigal agrarian culture—duped into trading its birthright for a steady paycheck, chewed up and spit out by an industrial economy, heartbroken to find no father waiting to celebrate its return home.
Another good example is the song this issue takes its title from, “The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn.” There are many versions of this song (more often called “The Lazy Farmer Boy”), but the version on New Favorite is especially friendly to ears that are new to bluegrass; the dramatic arrangement and energetic performance clues the listener in that the tale being told has some depth to it.
If you are unfamiliar with bluegrass but are interested in exploring, New Favorite can help you get a start. Alison Krauss’s voice is so appealing that it sometimes overshadows the skill and thought that goes into her singing. The members of her band are all world-class musicians, and she gives them room to shine. About half the songs on New Favorite qualify as bluegrass, the rest as bluegrass-informed pop songs.
Alison Krauss had done much to introduce bluegrass music to a wider audience. After distinguishing herself as a traditionalist, she began incorporating elements of pop and country music, slowly and cautiously enough to end up with a hybrid that expands the boundaries of bluegrass without selling out. This expansion is not a uniformly good thing. Many of the songs on New Favorite venture awfully far into pop love song territory, and even though the stories are artfully told, the amoral sensibility lessens their value. If you find it hard to avoid identifying with the narrator of a song, you may want to steer clear of this one. But it’s a good skill to develop, and the pop songs on New Favorite are good enough to make the practice rewarding.