I’m going to make some enemies with this week’s column.
I’ve said some divisive things in my time, but I’m stepping into dangerous waters today. I’ve mocked prairie poutine, canola smells, and local access television, but those were small potatoes compared to today’s subject matter. I’m about to take a shot at a very sacred cow. Perhaps it would be wisest to let this giant sleep, but I have never been confused for a wise man. I should stop dancing around the issue and just jump in.
Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” is one of the worst popular songs of the last 50 years.
I’m fairly certain that above sentence is heresy in certain parts of the prairies. I’ve heard “Jolene” played in countless fairs, parties, rodeos, and passing cars. I’ve watched dozens of people sing along with the song. It is a Saskatchewan staple.
And I utterly despise it.
I’m sure plenty of people will disagree with me. I’m sure several readers are shaking their heads in disbelief/disgust at this very moment. Perhaps I’m an unenlightened music slob for taking a swing at such a revered track. All I can do is lay out my case against “Jolene.”
My first (and most subjective) objection is on the grounds of aesthetics. Country music has never, and will never, be my jam. I’ve spent enough time at harmonica festivals and jamborees to know guitar twangs and heehaws aren’t for me. “Jolene,” with its steady country rhythms, already starts behind the eight ball for me.
But it goes beyond a mere difference in musical tastes. “Jolene” is a song torn between its lyrics and its vocal performance. The lyrics (on a surface reading) show a desperate woman begging a romantic rival to leave her partner alone. It depicts a human being at one of their lowest moments, literally pleading with someone to leave them with a shred of the American Dream.
But Dolly Parton doesn’t sing it like a woman on her bottom rung. Oh, sure, she’ll act hurt during a few high notes, but for the majority of the song, Parton is measured, controlled, and boring. She doesn’t sell the pain of the lead character. She’s detached, as if she’s watching the whole affair happen to someone else. To see this song performed with actual passion, check out the White Stripes live cover version. Singer Jack White legitimately sounds like a man on the edge of a complete mental collapse.
My ultimate issue with “Jolene,” though, rests with the very foundation of the song. Quite simply, Jolene is not the villain of “Jolene.”
Parton paints Jolene as a woman with “beauty beyond compare” who could “easily take [her] man.” Jolene is depicted as the stereotypical maneater. In fact, Jolene is so stunning that Parton’s husband calls for her at night, which prompted the entire song.
Jolene’s biggest crime is being desirable. Perhaps she does steal boyfriends away. Maybe she is a husband thief. Jolene might be a bad person, but it takes two to tango. She didn’t force those men to leave with her; they chose to do so.
Let’s imagine that Jolene listens to the narrator and leaves her man alone. What happens next? Will the husband stay loyal? Probably not. He’s so blinded by his lust he calls out for other women in his sleep. He’ll just find a new Jolene to obsess over. He is a man without loyalty, someone who’s constantly looking for the next illicit thrill. Jolene is simply the symptom pointing at a much bigger problem, namely the husband’s wandering eye.
In the song, Parton needs to redirect her anger to her husband. She needs to have a long, deep conversation with him about fidelity. But instead she drags Jolene’s name through the mud. She convinces herself that an internal problem (a husband’s disloyalty) can be solved with an external solution. However indirectly, “Jolene” preaches the faulty gospel of fixing everything within from without.
For all these reasons, on aesthetic, tonal, and moral grounds, I find “Jolene” to be utterly worthless. I know it’s strange to pummel a 45-year-old song, but I had to get this all off my chest. If you disagree, please let me know. I’m always happy to be proven wrong.
And Mrs. Parton, if you’re reading this article, please don’t be offended. “9 to 5” is still a jam.
