DOLLY PARTON: Queen of the Backwoods

Something like 1970’s “Down from Dover” strikes me as pretty unconcerned with formula, and it’s a superb song.

That’s an example of what I’m talkin’ about. I have to tell a story. I can’t worry if it has too many verses, or if it has a bridge or it’s got a chorus. When I feel it needs to move, I’ll move. If it needs a bridge or a chorus, or if the melody needs to change, I know when to change it. But “Down from Dover,” I just started telling that story. Not long ago [on 2001’s Little Sparrow], I went back and put a verse in that I’d left out. I put that verse in there about how I found a place to stay out on the farm, taking care of an old lady. I remember when I was writing it, Porter had told me that radio was never going to play it, ‘cause it’s about a pregnant girl. He said, “It’s so damn long…they ain’t gonna have time to play it.”

When did you write “Down from Dover?”

I wrote that when I first started with Porter. I remember being on the bus…about ’67, ’68.  It was just an album cut, never was a single.

Your forthcoming record, Backwoods Barbie, shows off your versatility.  “Only Dreamin’” has a timeless quality.

There are 12 songs on the record, and I wrote nine of them. “Only Dreamin’”…that’s a song I wrote on my birthday.  I was in New York when I turned 60.  We were doing a reading on 9 to 5, my Broadway musical. I didn’t have my guitar with me, and I had my 9 to 5 notes. I thought, man, I’ve got to write a song on my birthday. So I was in the car going to the reading downtown in this little theatre, and I just started singing, “I’m only dreaming…” I thought, ‘Oh hell, I’m writin’ this song right here in New York City.’ I didn’t have any paper, so I flipped my notebook over that had my script on it and was writing on the back of my script. I didn’t want to ruin my script. I had to have a piece of paper. When we got to the theatre, I told the girl there, “I’m writing a song,” and she asked me if I needed a piano.  I said, “Nope, but you don’t have a dulcimer on you, do you?”

No dulcimer, I’d bet.

No. And you know, “Only Dreamin’” wasn’t even gonna be on the record. I was in the studio with Kent [Wells], and I was out [in the vocal booth] singin’ something else…I said, “By the way, I wrote this song on my birthday, in New York City,” and started singing it. Kent mashed the button and said, “Man, that’s great.  Just put that down, and I’ll go back and I’ll put some guitar on it.” We just sort of built it. I love that lonesome, mountain, Irish sound.

“I’m Only Dreamin’” sounds like it would appeal to fans of your Sugar Hill bluegrass records.  But you also do one called “Better Get to Livin’,” which is perky, upbeat pop music.

As a songwriter, you’re allowed to write anything, and as a person, I am all colors in the rainbow. I’ve been through everything, you know, so I can write a positive song like “Better Get to Livin’” because that’s my attitude. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy all the time. You can’t be a deep and serious songwriter without feelings. You kinda have to live with your feelings out on your sleeve and get hurt more than most people. The fear I might get hurt means I might not be able to write another song.

How did “Better Get to Livin’” come about?

That idea came from Kent. He said, “Why don’t you write a song about your attitude? People are always coming up to you and asking your what you secret is.” And I thought, what a good title [sings: “People always comin’ up to me and askin’, ‘Dolly, what’s your secret?’”]. But anyway, Kent’s gonna have that kind of pop feel, because he’s more pop-oriented than I am.

You do some great country numbers on the record, like “Made of Stone” and “I Will Forever Hate Roses.”  Have you considered making a straight country record?

I actually did more country things than wound up on the record. We did 19 or 20 songs and had to narrow it down. But yeah, I’ve thought about doing a real country record.  I was just about to do that when a couple of people were doing the same exact thing.