Tragic Songs of Life is essentially an album full of murder ballads, tales of misfortune and tragic death. What was the mood like in the studio when they were recording it?
Well grim obviously. After all one can’t spend all one’s time singing songs about chaps killing one another without it taking some sort of emotional toll. The Louvin Brothers themselves seemed quite weighed down with woe and the general malaise permeated everyone present. We all became accustomed to regular outbreaks of open weeping and I don’t think I ever saw the studio receptionist without puffy eyes and a sniffle. I remember at one point my mop head came off the handle and that was effectively the last straw as far as many of us were concerned. I was able to rally myself with a strong cup of tea and a sit-down but one studio engineer had to go home and couldn’t bring himself to return for days.
Was there any effort to make the songs more cheery in some way?
Well, I suggested perhaps the mood might be lightened if they included a song in which someone didn’t die tragically. It didn’t have to be a humourous ditty but perhaps the protagonist could merely be maimed, injured or briefly embarrassed instead of actually killed, if only to provide a point of contrast. But nobody was listening by that point and the bleak overtone prevailed.
Have you ever returned to the finished product and given it a listen?
No, I could never… it wasn’t just the murder and the death and the tragedy, it was the total disregard for hygienic practices that affected me as well. Ladies and gentlemen were being murdered hand over fist without any consideration for how the resultant corpses would be disposed of with regards to cleanliness. Killing someone is one thing, it goes without saying that’s not something I can condone in any way, but if you must end someone’s life then at least give some forethought to what you’ll do with their bleeding remains once the deed is done.
I suppose that’s a good point.
Even if one were to succumb to a fit of passion, of the sort which is not befitting an English gentleman, but might overwhelm our more excitable, antipodean cousins, then one could at least have the decency to tidy up afterwards. “Well I’ve gone and committed an act of first-degree murder and I can either face up to my actions or dedicate myself to a lifetime spent evading justice but before I make my choice there’s blood on the wainscoting and viscera in the potplant so some scrubbing is in order.”
There was none of that I take it?
None. A lot of murder but very little attention to cleanliness. No wonder everyone was so upset.
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