A Congolese singer, a Zimbabwean banjoist, and a Mozambican bassist walk into an East Nashville bar. What follows is not a punchline, but the trio's hypnotic opening salvo in “My Kind of Country,” the 2023 Apple TV series that brings rising stars to Music City from around the world. These three, known collectively as the Congo Cowboys, have decided to start with the first song they recorded together: “Tonight we are going to play for you a song called 'Jolene' by Dolly Parton,” says vocalist Chris Bakalanga.
Moments into her cover, the men switch from English to Lingala, an inherently musical Central African language, and bring the house down, unaware that Parton recorded the original version 10 minutes away in RCA Studio B. She then released the album. . Jolene” 50 years ago this month, days after the single of the same name topped the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart. And after periodically returning to the country charts, “Jolene” just debuted on Billboard's Rock Digital Song Sales chart, thanks to Parton's collaboration with Italian band Måneskin for the new deluxe version of their album “Rockstar.”
In fact, having transcended every stylistic and cultural barrier imaginable over the past half-century, the song loosely based on a flirtation between her husband and a cheeky bank teller is Parton's most covered creation. With its hypnotic opening lick, eminently singable chorus and infectious chord progression, “Jolene” has done what few songs have managed: inspire countless tributes across eras, languages and oceans, from Brasilia to Brazzaville in the Congo and from Tijuana to Tehran.
A small sample: the version popularized in pre-revolution Iran by Leila Forouhar, who has long become a fixture in Los Angeles's Persian community; the Finnish cover of Vicky Rosti, who the most dedicated Eurovision fans will remember from the 80s; and the soundtrack to the 2019 Australian short film “Dolly's Song” by Kaylene Whiskey, whose acclaimed art often juxtaposes Parton with Indigenous contexts.
Among the various Spanish takes, including merengue and mariachi, is the cumbia duet of Chiquis Rivera and Becky G. from Los Angeles that appeared on Rivera's Latin Grammy-winning album “Playlist” (not to mention Top 10 Moments of Latin music from the LA Times). 2020). The following spring, at the Latin Recording Academy's first-ever celebration of women's music on Univision, Parton surprised viewers by introducing “mi Friend Chiquis” and performing a bilingual version of “Jolene” with the band's star.
Airing on Mother's Day, the special was particularly moving for Rivera. Almost a decade after the death of her own mother, “the Diva de la Banda” Jenni Rivera, “I felt that my mother had opened so many doors for me from heaven, and that was one of them,” said Chiquis (like everyone else). call) said in a telephone interview. “I couldn't help but feel her presence that night because I knew she was a big fan of Dolly's.”
With its hypnotic opening lick, eminently singable chorus and infectious chord progression, “Jolene” has done what few songs have managed: inspire countless tributes across eras, languages and oceans.
(Jack Plunkett / Jack Plunkett/invision/ap)
The good memories of listening to Parton's music together had led Chiquis to create the cumbia version in the first place. “One day I was driving and 'Jolene' came on, and that completely took me back,” he said. “I thought, 'Oh my God, I remember listening to this song with my mom.' ”Chiquis coincidentally was recording an album at the time, and his manager thought it should include a cover. He suggested a Spanish version of “Jolene.”
Thinking it would be perfect as a duo, he reached out to his friend Becky G. “She was like, 'Oh my god, I love this song.' “Soon a cumbia giant was born. And so, by the way, a compromise was left: Chiquis' fiancé is the photographer who photographed the collaboration. “He says, 'If it wasn't for Dolly Parton, you and I would never have met,'” Chiquis said. “That's why he always says, 'I love that woman.' “
The sentiment is nearly universal, no matter how close or distant one's connection to Parton may be. Perhaps the most surprising example? Nelson Mandela, who allegedly played his music over the Robben Island public address system while he was imprisoned there.
Fellow freedom fighter and inmate Tokyo Sexwale told the story on the 2019 podcast “Dolly Parton's America.” “He said that at one point, guards allowed Mandela to play music over loudspeakers throughout the prison,” co-host Shima Oliaee reported. When he asked which songs in particular, Sexwale replied, “He loved 'Jolene,'” adding, “No human being can't be affected by 'Jolene.'” “
Ask musicologists why and several explanations emerge. “You don't have to worry that your partner is cheating on you to feel like you have any kind of interest in the song,” said Lydia Hamessley, Eugene M. Tobin Distinguished Professor of Music at Hamilton College and author. of two Parton books: “Unlikely Angel: The Songs of Dolly Parton” and the upcoming Oxford Keynotes title “Dolly Parton's Jolene” (due out later this year). In contemplating the meaning of the song, Hamessley posed a question: “Is it always about someone longing for a man not to go away, or is it a broader idea of loss?” Many, including Sexwale, favor the latter: “We all I do not want to lose”.
“The other thing I think about is the music itself,” Hamessley said: “It's a kind of oscillation between two different chords that I think people find compelling.” There is an analogous quality to the “Gilligan's Island” theme song, he noted, for anyone interested in a fun little exercise in musical analysis.
Then there are those four successive “Jolenes,” which Parton explained to Oliaee and her co-host Jad Abumrad as, initially, a memory device. One day after “The Porter Wagoner Show,” where Parton performed in the '60s and '70s, a girl named Jolene asked for an autograph. “I said, 'Oh, what a beautiful name,'” the singer recalled to the hosts. And thinking that she might one day want to use it in a composition, she returned to the tour bus saying, “'Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene,' just so she would remember the name.” Hearing that replay, Parton realized he was on to something. He then thought of the flirtatious bank teller, changed her name and wrote a song.
“'Every time that I see [my husband] There in that La-Z-Boy chair, snoring and sleeping, I think, where is Jolene when you need her? You can have it now, Jolene! ”Parton said last year in an interview.
(Charlie Riedel/Associated Press)
“It's really powerful the way that line increases scale and has an energy that you want to join in with,” Hamessley said. Another prominent “Dollyologist” agrees that the euphoria of singing is part of the overall appeal, no matter how plaintive the words: “There is a disjunction between the pain of the lyrics as she anticipates heartbreak and the pleasure of singing the song.” . ” observed Helen Morales, Argyropoulos professor of Hellenic studies at UC Santa Barbara and author of “Pilgrimage to Dollywood: A Country Music Road Trip Through Tennessee.” “And the focus isn't on her husband; it's actually about Jolene and the detailed description of how beautiful she is, so there's something cheesy and fun about the song.” Morales also grew up listening to “Jolene” in an unexpected context: as the son of a Greek Cypriot Dolly Parton fan who raised a family in England.
In fact, the Cape Town-based Congo Cowboys (Chris Bakalanga, originally from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Julio Sigauque, originally from Mozambique, and Simon Attwell, originally from Zimbabwe) also knew the song from childhood. “We had all grown up with 'Jolene' on the radio,” Attwell said in a phone interview. The group's decision to record the song began with a desire to incorporate the banjo, an instrument with African roots, into their sound. Attwell then watched the White Stripes sing “Jolene” and was so enthralled with the performance that it made him think about what the Congo Cowboys could do with the song. An argument ensued, “and immediately, when Chris started singing in Lingala, he felt good, he felt good,” Attwell explained.
And therein lies the magic: “Jolene” somehow always feels right. In Lingala or Spanish. A cappella or backed by a full string section. In Miley Cyrus' backyard or at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. The one place where “Jolene” seems conspicuously absent? Parton's own house. Speaking to the BBC last year, she reported that she looked at her husband and joked: “'Every time I see you there in that La-Z-Boy chair, snoring and sleeping, I think, where is Jolene when you need her?”. ? You can have it now, Jolene! “
