Top Five Songs: Parade

More Parade!  As I said yesterday, the show’s lovely score needs more praise devoted to it than I had space for in my last post, so we’re back to look at the music.  Here are my absolute favorite songs from this show.

“The Old Red Hills of Home” – This opening number drops us right into the world of Parade, first through the history that informs its people and then fading into the “present” of 1913.  I love the way it opens with a young soldier going off to fight in the Civil War and segues to the same man, now an old veteran, taking part in the Memorial Day parade.

Best Line:  “We gave our lives for the old hills of Georgia, / The old red hills of home. / Not much survives of the old hills of Georgia / But I close my eyes and hear / All the treasures we held dear.”

“It Don’t Make Sense” – The shared grief of an entire community at an unexpected tragedy is poignantly realized in this number.  The people of Atlanta mourn the loss of 13-year-old Mary Phagan and ask how such a horrific thing could have happened.  Led by Frankie, who’d been sweet on Mary, it’s both universal and deeply personal.

Best Line:  “And no, it don’t make sense / The way the world can let you fall - / I swear it don’t make sense to me at all.”

 

 

“The Factory Girls” – In Leo’s trial, three of the girls who work for him are called to the stand to lie about him, claiming he’s made lascivious advances toward them.  The subject matter is monstrous, but the music is just unbelievably beautiful.  The resulting song is haunting and evocative.

Best Line:  “I’m in the hall / And then he’s there, / He passes much too close. / I change my clothes, / Put up my hair, / And somehow, I’m sure he knows.”

(I couldn't find a single picture of this song from the original Broadway cast.  This one is from a production in St. Louis.

“A Rumblin’ and a Rollin’” – I mentioned this one yesterday.  After Leo receives his guilty verdict, people in the North rush to defend him and fight for justice.  Meanwhile, the black citizens of Georgia take the whole conceit to task, wondering where the outcry is against the racism that informs their lives.

Best Line:  “I can tell you this, as a matter of fact, / That the local hotels wouldn’t be so packed / If a little black girl had gotten attacked.”

“This Is Not Over Yet” – When Leo finds out there’s a possibility his death sentence may be commuted, he clings to it desperately.  His wife Lucille is responsible, and Leo sings her praises as he contemplates his chance at life.

Best Line:  “It means the journey ahead might get shorter; / I might reach the end of my rope; / But suddenly, loud as a mortar, / There is hope! / Finally, hope!”

Parade (1998)

 

I adore all three cast recordings I own from Jason Robert Brown shows, but this one remains my favorite.  While The Last Five Years is masterful storytelling and some of the sequences in Songs for a New World are simply breathtaking, Parade tells its searing story pretty remarkably through its music.

 

Parade is based on true events; in 1913 in Georgia, a factory owner named Leo Frank was put on trial for the rape and murder of one of his young employees.  Frank was an outsider among his Atlanta neighbors, a wealthy Jewish man hailing from Brooklyn.  He was convicted of all charges on scant evidence, and when his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment, he was killed by a lynch mob.

 

If that doesn’t say Broadway musical, I don’t know what does.  I jest, of course, but it’s a powerful show, examining the intersection of anti-Semitism, racism, classism, and sectionalism at work in these events and the devastating effect it has.  To the people of Atlanta, Leo is the obvious suspect because he isn’t one of them.  He’s a northerner with no true loyalty to them, no ancestors who fought for “the old red hills of home.”  He follows a “foreign” religion with words and customs unknown to them.  Perhaps most damning, he’s a have among have-nots.  When the horrific violation and murder of a 13-year-old girl is thrown into that crucible, people are quick to embrace the vicious rumors circulating around him. 

 

What I really appreciate about this show is that it doesn’t paint Leo as a wronged saint.  Although the above social issues are important considerations, Leo’s manner and carriage also have a hand in the witch hunt.  He doesn’t like his neighbors any more than they like him; in social settings, he’s haughty, stiff, and standoffish.  He’s brusque and dismissive of his employees, and his own wife regards him as a cold fish and doesn’t know how to relate to him.  When even he’s arrested and things are looking bleak, his pride won’t allow her help or comfort.

 

This is important, because Leo can be innocent without being a likeable or admirable person.  Not everyone falsely accused of a crime is in actuality a paragon, not even those falsely accused due to bigotry.  However, that doesn’t mean his treatment or his fate is any less undeserved.  It makes for a richer and more complex tale.  And beyond Leo’s story, the show further challenges our reactions.  In “A Rumblin’ and a Rollin’,” the working-class black characters resent the outpouring of northern support for Leo when “There’s a black man swingin’ in ev’ry tree / And they don’t never pay attention.”

 

That last bit leads naturally into the music.  Goodness gracious, the music!  Simply gorgeous modern Broadway melodies infused with Southern flair and accompaniment.  The score is by turns soaring, haunting, and tragic, and the lyrics beautifully tell the story.  The characters lay themselves bare in song, revealing themselves in profound ways.  Another post might be in order; I’ve already rambled for a while, and the music here deserves further examination.

 

Warnings

 

Some swearing, violence, sexual references, and very dark subject matter.