Thanks to the wonders of YouTube, Diane and I found ourselves watching the recent RTE documentary Nanci Griffith: From a Distance the other night. It’s an illuminating yet ultimately sad look at the late “folkabilly” singer-songwriter and her link to (and love of) Ireland, featuring insightful commentary from Rodney Crowell, Emmylou Harris, Dolores Keane and Lyle Lovett, among others. YouTube being YouTube, another video kicked in when the special ended—Nanci’s 1986 appearance on TNN’s New Country, when she sang songs from her then-new album, The Last of the True Believers album.
That may seem an odd open for an essay on Lucy Kaplansky’s The Lucy Story, but my brain contains a jumble of memories of when and where I stumbled upon various artists—some well-known, most not. Kaplansky, like Nanci, is forever connected to my final years at Penn State, when I spun folk records on the student-run radio station and leaned on (and learned from) the Fast Folk Music Magazine LPs from late 1985 to mid-1987. She appeared on a few of the records, which also introduced me to—among others—Lui Collins, Shawn Colvin, Nanci Griffith and Suzanne Vega. I hear one, I think of the others. Strange, huh? And, now more than ever, I think of them—and me—as frozen in place. It’s only when I look in the mirror and see the gray coloring my beard that…yeah. We’re not in Pennsylvania, anymore.
Which is to say, as I joked in the lede to my review of her last album, in my head I equate Kaplansky to an old college chum. We drifted apart after graduation, re-connected here and there (always at the Tin Angel in Philly, it seemed), and now find ourselves looking back and ahead. As its subtitle suggests, The Lucy Story gathers together unreleased and rare tracks, quite a few of which are live, from the long ago to the recent past. It’s an alternate history, if you will, a map of roads not taken. However, despite the disparate sources, it plays out as if a set piece.
The 25-song collection opens with a lovely rendition of Lyle Lovett’s “God Will” from 2007 and concludes with a sweet cover of James Taylor’s “You Can Close Your Eyes” that she recorded in her bedroom at age 16 in 1976. Between the two, there’s a bounty of songs that are sure to perk one’s ears.
A stunning rendition of Ola Belle Reed’s “High on the Mountain,” borrowed from the 2001 Wayfaring Strangers album, Shifting Sands of Time, mines the terrain of the aged: “High on a mountain top, standing all alone/Wondering where the years of my life have flown/High on a mountaintop, wind blowing free/Thinking about the days that used to be.” “On an Asteroid With You,” on the other hand, celebrates the present and predicts a fun future. Written by Kaplansky’s dad during his honeymoon with her mom, it echoes Tin Pan Alley in the best of ways. That both hers parents—who were celebrating their 51st anniversary at the time—lend a hand on the live recording makes it all the better.
“Beautiful Boy,” from a 2012 John Lennon tribute concert, captures both the song’s nuances and heart. And speaking of heart: her solo take on the Flying Burrito Brothers’ “Hot Burrito #1” stops time, just about. It’s followed with an aching “Love Hurts” that finds Richard Shindell playing Gram Parsons to Kaplansky’s Emmylou.
Other than the Taylor song, a 1982 demo of “Heart Over Head” is likely the oldest recording in the 25-song set. It metaphorically hails from Sesame Street’s “one of these things is not like the others” segments; it oozes the early 1980s pop sound, in other words. Yet, stylistic deviation aside, it’s quite fun. (For those curious, Bette Midler recorded it on her 1983 No Frills album; one wonders if she learned it from this recording.)
A 1986 radio appearance on WNEW-FM with Vin Scelsa is a delight. Accompanied by Shawn Colvin (harmonies) and John Levanthal (acoustic guitar), she delivers a transcendent rendition of Colvin’s “Diamond in the Rough.” When they join voices on “snakes in the grass, gotta step on the gas,” wow. Just wow. Another radio appearance that same year, on WXRK-FM, finds Kaplansky joined by Colvin for a cover of Ralph Stanley’s “Green Pastures”; again, their voices blend in the best of ways. Sandwiched between those tracks: a wondrous rendition of the Beatles’ “Let It Be” from a 2012 gig at the City Winery in New York.
Robert Frost’s “The Road Untaken” is often interpreted as celebrating the choice to take the road less traveled, i.e. embracing individuality. In truth, however, the poem is about the many decisions we make throughout life, both large and small, and how most matter less than we like to think. Just as map apps offer various routes for traveling from point A to point B, the same is true of life writ large; we wind up where we’re supposed to be no matter the path taken. In this case, much like the river of time, the sublime collection flows unimpeded from start to end.
(The 25-song, two-CD set is not available via the usual streaming services, but can—and should—be purchased via Kaplansky’s website.)
The Old Grey Cat 