A good old-fashioned cheating song, from the days when songs such as this were very much in fashion.
It’s not as interesting or deeply layered as Barbara Mandrell’s “The Midnight Oil”, released the following year. But it’s a more believable pairing than most of the duets they sent to radio in this time period.
It’s doubtful that any record could be universally agreed upon as the greatest country single ever made. But any conversation on that topic would have to include serious consideration of “Coat of Many Colors.”
It’s also doubtful that I can add anything meaningful to the conversation about the song itself. Better writers and historians have already covered it all, so much so that I can’t separate what I’ve read about it from whatever original thoughts I might have.
I will say that whenever I think about the autobiographical events in the song, it makes me sad. But when I actually listen to it, there’s an optimism that shines through. Maybe it’s just the perspective of having seen some success by the time she recorded it.
Or maybe the song taps into her resilient inner child, the one who had the strength to endure such humiliation without knowing what a bright future lay ahead of her.
Despite all the achievements and accolades she’s earned, “Coat of Many Colors” suggests that Parton’s finest moment might have been in that classroom all those years ago.
The title track got most of the love, and deservedly so, but the first single from Parton’s Coat of Many Colors album is a strong effort in its own right. Backed by Appalachian-flavored acoustic instrumentation, Parton mourns her lost love while expressing a desire for nothing more than solitude.
To the bluebird singing a sad song, she says “Spread your blue wings, and I’ll shed my blue tears.” To the bright sunshine, she says “Waste not your warmth on the coldness in here…. Go light your blue sky, and I’ll shed my blue tears.” The song’s brisk tempo belies its sad lyrics as Parton sings with an emotive quiver in her voice.
A minor Top 20 hit, “My Blue Tears” doesn’t stand quite as tall in Parton’s catalog as classics like “Jolene” and “Coat of Many Colors,” but its understated emotional qualities make it a gem worth hearing.
If history had played out the way Woodrow Wilson planned, we’d be celebrating the 92nd Armistice Day today. When first proclaimed a national holiday, Wilson declared the following:
To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations.
If the Great War had been the last war, we wouldn’t be celebrating what is now known as Veterans Day. We also wouldn’t have an incredible legacy of songs about soldiers in the annals of country music.
Here are five classics that celebrate those who have served our country and the ones who love them, along with one tale that has a returned soldier that’s not being loved quite enough.
“Dear Uncle Sam” by Loretta Lynn
from the 1966 album I Like ‘Em Country
Lynn was on the cusp of superstardom when she released this top five hit. Penning a letter to Uncle Sam, she pleads for the safe return of her husband. She sings, “I really love my country, but I also love my man.” His return is not to be, as the song closes with a heart-wrenching recitation of the telegram informing her that he won’t be coming home.
“Galveston” by Glen Campbell
from the 1969 album Galveston
Campbell’s finest performance is a homesick ode for the lady and hometown that he left behind. The sweeping strings and stirring vocal evoke the waves of heartache that are crashing up against his heart, much like the waters of Galveston Bay crash along the shores he once walked with her.
“Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love to Town” by Kenny Rogers and The First Edition
from the 1969 album Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love to Town
Mel Tillis penned this massive hit for Rogers and his band, originally recorded by country artist Johnny Darrell, who took it into the top ten in 1967. The narrator lays in bed, paralyzed from his stint in “that crazy Asian war.” He is helpless as Ruby gives in to desire and heads into town looking for the love he can no longer provide, and he’s left there wishing she’d only wait until he died for her to step out on him.
“Soldier’s Last Letter” by Merle Haggard
from the 1971 album Hag
The spiritual predecessor of Tim McGraw’s “If You’re Reading This.” Mama sits at home, reading a letter from her son overseas. He’s writing from a trenchmouth, hoping his mother won’t scold him for his sloppy handwriting the way she did when he was a kid, tracking mud into the house because he didn’t wipe his feet. He promises to finish the letter when he returns from his next battle, but the letter that arrives back home is incomplete.
“Travelin’ Soldier” by Dixie Chicks
from the 2002 album Home
The modern benchmark for soldier songs. Bruce Robison’s original versions are both worth seeking out, and can be found on his self-titled 1996 album and his 1999 set, Long Way Home from Anywhere. But the acoustic instrumentation that surrounds Natalie Maines’ plaintive delivery makes the Dixie Chicks version the definitive one.
“Welcome Home” by Dolly Parton
from the 2003 album For God and Country
In a brilliant feat of songwriting, Parton weaves together four stories: a soldier returning home, a soldier dying overseas, Christ’s death and resurrection, and Parton’s own hope and longing for eternal salvation.
The song itself is fairly generic, typical of the Wagoner/Parton love songs that never sound quite as believable as their other songs.
But this one works better because Parton is fully flowering as a vocalist. Her vocal trills sound so heartfelt that they add that dose of genuine passion that earlier duets were lacking.
Gospel recordings were becoming all the rage in the nineties, particularly with female artists.
Sometimes it seemed like they just wanted a big showpiece for the CMA awards. Dolly Parton and Pam Tillis had performed with enormous choirs behind them in 1991 and 1994, respectively. These were, perhaps, the only times in CMA history that the demographics on stage accurately reflected greater metropolitan Nashville.
In 1996, Shania Twain debuted a revamped version of “God Bless the Child” on the show. Originally a short a cappella number that closed her breakthrough album, Twain added several verses that touched on a wide range of social problems that impact children.
Twain’s less than powerhouse vocals work in the performance’s favor. Her restraint keeps the song from becoming overblown. And in turn, what could have been mawkish remains reasonably thought-provoking and pleasant to the ears.
Written by Robert John “Mutt” Lange and Shania Twain
RCA’s bizarre mangling of Dolly Parton’s catalog kept this single from wide availability until the 2009 release of the box set Dolly.
Even more bizarre? It wasn’t included on her gospel album, The Golden Streets of Glory, which was released the same year as this single.
It’s a shame because it’s a raucous and genuinely uplifting arrangement of a gospel standard, and it pushes Parton further as a singer than anything had up until that point.
The arrangement is like “Joshua” with a horn section. It overwhelms the humorous dialogue.
It doesn’t help that they don’t sound like they’re in on the joke. They go for deadpan but fall short, and end up sounding a bit too serious in the end.
Parton’s sympathetic lyrical portrait of a southern preacher deftly weaves classic gospel songs into its lyrics. There was an old-timey quality to her duets with Wagoner anyway, so the subject matter lends itself quite well to the old-fashioned production.
By now, we’re at the point where Parton’s gift as a writer has transcended any form of normalcy.
1972 | Peak: #11
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