Early on Stanley mastered Earl Scruggs' famous three finger roll. But while Bela Fleck took that form into interstellar overdrive, Stanley reverted to the primitive and percussive clawhammer method. The song structures on this album are stripped bare and rendered simple enough for an unschooled novice to strum along with. What empowers this song, however, is Stanley's distinctive howling, slightly off-key, banshee vocals. The initial effect is that of a man yelling across a pasture to a distant neighbor.
Subsequent hearings yield deeper insights.
When Stanley and his Clinch Mountain Boys harmonize, the voices rise on stressed vowels with ending consonants muted or dropped. Having reached back in time, Stanley has tapped into something bigger than himself, making his music relevant beyond his isolated culture. He sings about trouble, longing, death, and home with a passion and verve that is unequaled. The latter dispenses with instrumentation in a baring of soul so moving it demands listeners to stay back some distance with heads bowed. Ralph Stanley's music has always treaded each valley of grief with dignity while looking over the next ridge with hope.