Precious Memory
Years later, I would sing a whole trunk full of songs with a brother from another mother. A few times we hit that higher calling sound that came so easy with the Edwards boys. But, for all the harmony, brothers can also spell trouble. The trouble that comes between brothers is biblical all right and that’ll make the music second rate at best. As long as I’ve been making music, I’ve never let the songs become second rate. True also, here or gone, a brother is for life.
Been around music all my life. Listened to it, went to shows, bought a slew of vinyl and, thanks to my Grandmom, learned to play harmonica. We were in her living room one afternoon and what I really wanted was to play guitar like my uncles. She picked up a harmonica from inside her banjo case and told me to start with that. But, what do I do? I asked her. Just blow into it, she came back with. That was my one and only lesson and I’ve been blowing on harps ever since.
Don’t recall my brothers or sister picking up an instrument, although Don and Doug could sing with pure, reckless abandon. The two of them would start singing and just get lost in a song. What came out was something as far back in the Appalachian hills as you could get. Had a sound so sweet and balanced like the sweet drone of a bagpipe coursing through your veins. When they let me join we became a choir of soulful harmonies, close to the heart and nailing the song.
That was the reason. Searching for that sound, that moment of musical clarity when no other moment mattered. Bundled up on a cold morning, I would walk to school, harmonica pressed to my lips, practicing. I was learning to bend notes, find a few others and eventually put them all together. I copied Dylan, was amazed by Charlie McCoy and couldn’t get enough of playing a song over and over. Tried to get it right, whatever right was.
Time doesn’t change people so much as what they do with that time. The music I was exposed to as a kid was something I could never get enough of. The itch got in under my skin and I’ve been scratching ever since. I look into eyes, listen to sounds and search my soul to find that higher calling. Leaning on that precious memory to take me home.
Next time, we’ll take this journey a bit farther…
Select below to enjoy the complete Higher Calling series.
Your turn of phrase edifies the soul – I am forever in awe of your writing; you evoke, illuminate, and capture the ethereal. The essence of life in words.
interesting, background for a friend i know…family history unfolds…and we all know family history is good for the soul…sometimes even the souls of others