Down from Dover (1970)<\/p>\n
Dolly Parton was one of the most gifted narrative lyricists ever \u2013 particularly when it came to telling the stories of women\u2019s experiences. This is one of her more harrowing stories about a young woman (see also: The Bridge). Some will recognise this as a track on Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood\u2019s album Nancy and Lee (where the backing singing is replaced with sweeping orchestra). But the clarity of Parton\u2019s voice on the original, taken from her fifth album, 1970\u2019s The Fairest of Them All, is staggering.<\/p>\n
The lyrics follow a young woman who gets pregnant out of wedlock \u2013 by a man who has promised to return home before she starts to show. We listen as ominous clouds cast shadows over the fields the young woman can see from her window: the seasons change, and her man does not return. She is sent away to have the child in secret, to hide her parents\u2019 shame, but her daughter is stillborn. Parton\u2019s voice cracks as she delivers one of the final lines about the devastation unfolding for her protagonist, as she turns to her baby: \u201cI guess she knew she\u2019d never have her father\u2019s arms to hold her.\u201d<\/p>\n
PMS Blues (1994)<\/p>\n
Recorded for her 1994 live album Heartsongs: Live From Home, you can hear the audience at Dollywood roar and cackle through this stomping blues number (just wait until she gets to the line about menopause). \u201cI got those God almighty, slap somebody, PMS Blues,\u201d she growls. There\u2019s gags about fluid retention, mood swings, headaches and telling kids to hide from their hormonal mothers. \u201cIt\u2019s the only time in my life I ever think about wishing I\u2019d been a man,\u201d she rails. It\u2019s wild, rollicking fun.<\/p>\n
The Bargain Store (1975)<\/p>\n
While some would say this isn\u2019t a deep cut, given it\u2019s the title track of her 15th album, I\u2019d argue it\u2019s still an unsung gem. Melodically, it\u2019s got the lightness of touch of Love Is Like A Butterfly, released a year earlier, but it\u2019s lyrical heft is something else entirely. This is a story of an older woman, someone whose heart had been dragged around the block, whose dreams have been smashed and whose plans for a better life ground into dust.<\/p>\n
The metaphor is not subtle \u2013 a woman with a history is a bargain store and all her merchandise is used and cheap \u2013 but it\u2019s a wry take on how society treats a fallen woman, and the madonna\/whore complex by which, perversely, both virginity and sex sells. The protagonist invites people to view her merchandise which, with a little care and mending, could be as good as new. \u201cI can guarantee you\u2019ll be completely satisfied,\u201d she sings.<\/p>\n
Is it bizarre? Absolutely. But it also speaks to the craven nature of women as commodities, as well as the more complex sense of longing for our broken woman to find someone who might help fix her. It\u2019s a different tone to Parton\u2019s more famous takedowns of rampant double standards, such as the perfect Just Because I\u2019m A Woman, which is a direct conversation with the men who walk off and leave a woman they\u2019ve got into trouble.<\/p>\n
Daddy Come and Get Me (1970)<\/p>\n
It begins with a perfect slide guitar and a startling opening line setting the scene: \u201cIn this mental institution\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
This track, also from 1970\u2019s The Fairest of Them All, is firmly in the country music tradition of mining the deepest despair for a very visceral kind of art.<\/p>\n
Our protagonist has been put in a psychiatric hospital by her partner but, as she says, it\u2019s not her mind that\u2019s broken, it\u2019s her heart. She pleads for her father to come and get her. She needs help, she says, \u201cbut not this kind\u201d. She is powerless, looking to another male figure in her life to love and care for her.<\/p>\n
The spoken word part of this song sees Parton deliver a heartbreaking, poetic and raw performance, much like in her opus I Will Always Love You.<\/p>\n
Wildflowers (1987)<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve turned to this song at periods of rupture and upheaval in my life. Written by Parton, it features on the 1987 album Trio, a holy trinity of a collaboration between country music titans Parton, Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt. Parton sings in the first person here, a younger version of herself, wild-eyed and full of promise, who takes to the road to escape the confines of her family. Like the seeds of a wildflower, she catches the wind and takes to the road. And we know it\u2019s going to be OK because, as she says, \u201cwildflowers don\u2019t care where they grow\u201d. It\u2019s a song that agitates for change, and gives the listener the courage to go forth.<\/p>\n
The Pain of Loving You (1971)<\/p>\n
If there ever was a song that captures the fracturing of a relationship, with all its complexities and power plays and love-hate ferocity, this is surely it. This song featured on the album Two of a Kind, the sixth of an eventual 13 albums Parton would release with her one-time mentor, Porter Wagoner. He was one of the biggest country stars of the 60s and 70s who brought her in to perform on his weekly hit TV show in her early career. However, as Parton\u2019s fame began eclipse Wagoner\u2019s, he sought to control her, and their relationship strained to the point of snapping in 1974, when she left the show. Parton\u2019s vocal harmony skips over Wagoner\u2019s with the levity of a bird skimming water, as she sings the blow: \u201cTo love and hate at the same time \/ the line between the two is fine\u201d.<\/p>\n
Light of a Clear Blue Morning (1977)<\/p>\n