In honor of the 50th anniversary of Buddy Holly’s death on February 3, I’ve been reading the Holly biography Rave On by Philip Norman. With those glasses on, it has become so clear to me that Holly has left his imprint on the rock ‘n’ roll all around us.
On the day 50 years after the music died, I heard the music again—faintly, mournfully, echoing in Texas hillbilly country yodeling distant memories on Murry Hammond’s rendition of the Rev. Charles A. Tindley’s old hymn, “What Are They Doing in Heaven Today?” I can’t help but wonder how Buddy Holly is enjoying that place “where tears and sorrow are all done away” and “peace abounds like a river’s flow.” I can’t help but think that Holly is there jumping around with something far superior to one of his tremendous Stratocasters, playing on, raving on about the Lord.
Murry Hammond of the Old 97’s released his solo disc, I Don’t Know Where I’m Going But I’m On My Way last year, a collection of Gospel hymns, train songs and stories, sepia photographs and sounds, and mournful-hopeful Texas songs that sound like they were sung into a can at the old local radio station, recording directly onto wax discs. Hammond conjures up that past even while breathing new life into it, lets a light shine through the dirt and dust, calls “all aboard” as you ponder his love for trains and God.
I Don’t Know is a return in many ways to that cowboy country music that shaped Buddy Holly as a youth, so Hammond’s disc was a fine companion on the 50th anniversary of the tragic death of an artist so rare—not having had the chance to fully influence his world.
The hymns Hammond chose like “What Are They Doing” are also what made Holly who he is. He grew up in the fundamentalist Tabernacle Baptist Church in Lubbock, Texas, somehow eventually marrying that with his love of rock ‘n’ roll. His faith seems to have remained—as hinted at in Philip Norman’s Rave On, which is why I think Holly is rocking in eternal life with Christ.
Hammond’s version of “What Are They Doing” brings out the full grief inherit in talking about loved ones who are no longer alive. As much as it points to the celebration and confidence we can have that believers are there with the Lord, Hammond and producer Mark Neill shape the sound and recording to release the other set of emotions in those still here on Earth—the sadness, loneliness, and overwhelming sorrow at remaining in a world of tears and trouble. No matter what we believe is still to come, the present darkness remains.
Which brings us back to rejoicing in Buddy Holly and the gift of his music. He made this world a better place through his guitar, voice, and songwriting. His influence has been poured out on us through the decades in so many artists including Hammond and the Old 97’s. He made rock ‘n’ roll to speak of our days, and so our present reality has that voice. Holly died, but I believe he lives forever. The music died, but it lives on and on.
That hope and voice that goes beyond our days shows up defiantly in Hammond’s two part version of the traditional “Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down.” After laying out a rollicking kick instrumental version, he sings the Gospel song with a voice that’s deep South, Bible belt church pew worthy, calls up Johnny Cash for some black pain, hums like an old train rider, and yet has a clarity like any 50’s radio chart-topper.
Perhaps, though, the best reflection on Holly’s death, his enduring influence, and his eternal life come through the lens of Hammond’s own words on the closing song, “I Believe, I Believe.” Riding a horse up over the hill, Hammond comes singing, strumming a guitar, and filling the air with a melancholy that begs the question, “Where have you been? What happened in the town you’ve just left? What is hurting your heart and turning your eyes to heaven for hope beyond what you see?”
They are the words we need when we remember how the music died.
I believe, I believe the children of sight
Will look out on a beautiful morn,
And the children of light in this world beneath
Will light the dark night no more.
Murry Hammond
Murry Hammond interview at Music Spectrum
Old 97’s
