Dolly Parton's new album, Halos and Horns, adds to a trinity of bluegrass-heavy albums that marks a drastic change from the sequined country classics that made her the reigning queen of Nashville country in the '70s and '80s.
The success of a genre relegated to the mountains, wholly due to last year's "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" soundtrack, makes Parton's return to her roots less of a fading away. It's more of a decision to move from a genre looking for youthful sass to one that values experience over marketability.
A star since the age of 13, Parton remains famous for her distinctive vocals (think a Patsy Cline 45 rpm playing at 33 rpm, and it's a close imitation), market savvy, the super-camp that is Dollywood, and her, uh, smile.
Feeling the pressure of the changing face of country music, the diva of all divas flew her Nashville coup, setting herself up with Durham-based Sugar Hill Records, Billboard Magazine's top independent country label, thanks in part to her.
With Halos and Horns, Parton is once again recording the music that made her the Association for Independent Music's bluegrass award winner for her last album, Little Sparrow.
But not all of the tracks on Halos and Horns are of a vintage proceeding her departure from the lights of Nashville. Tracks like "What A Heartache" and "John Daniel" were written decades before the upcoming July 9 release of the album. In the case of "What A Heartache," it's Parton recording classic Dolly -- the third time this particular song has seen a track listing.
While revisiting some of the country classics that made her a star, her new sound undeniably has the smell of moonshine and rock candy. But banjos, gospel choirs and bluegrass progressions aside, it's hard to think of Ms. Parton as the simple country girl she once was. Call it a hunch, but simple country girls don't own amusement parks.
And since when did true blue traditional Appalachian music include Led Zeppelin? That's right, the Cinderella of poverty-stricken mountain folks everywhere includes her own take on the Zeppelin classic "Stairway to Heaven."
But all abominations of classic rock and the temptation to trash Dolly for just being Dolly aside, one irrefutable benefit of her "legend" status remains.
