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MUSIC/FAIRFIELD4/5.08, 811 words

Hed: How Sweet the Sound
Dek: The Fairfield Four continue to make a joyful noise

Facts:
WHO: The Fairfield Four
WHERE: The Laurel Theatre
WHEN: Friday, April 28, 8 p.m.
HOOW MUCH: Phone 522-5851 for reservations or ticket info

by Chris Barrett
There's something rare and mysteriously attractive about gospel music. Even to the agnostic ear, there's a mystical element woven into those taught highs and harmonies that's every bit as primal, moving and universal as a thunder clap. Though gospel is certainly sacred music, members of the flock differentiate between straight religious music (the slow, restrained reading of the hymnal) and gospel.
When both he and this century were young, brother Thomas Dorsey, the inventor and Father of Gospel Music, mixed seemingly innocent and inert ingredients: straight Baptist hymns and old-time social and popular singing styles. What came of it remains too powerful for words to describe fairly, or for any earthly tether to bind. Choirs and other groups of the devoted and devout have conspired to keep gospel alive, even while many other parts of society have moved away from the church. 
By simply doing what comes naturally to them, NashvilleÕs Fairfield Four have done their share to sustain the gospel tradition. (The group actually has five members now. They retain the "Four" and quartet tags because they still sing quartet harmony, with two leads.) TheyÕve been performing all over the world for decades, and their most recent recording, Standing in the Safety Zone (Warner Bros.), was nominated for a Grammy in 1993. They, too, started when this century was young. Even though they've turned over some singers in the last 80 years, the style and mission of the group has gone virtually unchanged. 
"We're strictly a cappella, see," says baritone James Hill. "We sing the real old-type gospel."
One of the most striking things about the Fairfield Four is their audience, which you'll soon have the chance to join. Consider that the members of the group range in age from mid-fifties to late seventies. Hill is 78. They sing songs that have ancient lyrics. Many are scriptures that the Fairfield Four have set to music themselves. Hill says that some of the songs they sing up-tempo are considered "contemporary," when in fact, they're singing in a Jubilee style that's over a century old. But the average age of an audience member at a Fairfield Four performance tends to be way below half of the average age of the group members. 
"I'm surprised at that myself, you see," Hill admits. "This group was organized in 1921. 'Standing in the Safety Zone', the title song of our last album, is a number I was singing when I came to the group back in Õ46.Ó
Hill attempts to explain why Fairfield FourÕs venerable style appeals to such a young audience. 
"You take a man," he offers, "let's say he's 35 years old, and he hears the way we sing that number. You'll notice the way we're doing that rhythm in the backgroundÊÉÓ
He pauses, apparently realizing that mere words do no justice to his art. Hill then begins to sing into his Nashville receiver. Yonder comes the sweet chariot, swingin' extremely low, even for a baritone, "oom-ah-oom, ah-oom-ah-oom-ah, oom-ah-oomÑwith that beat, while the lead's doing the narrating. It's new to him. It's like rap is to some of our young people.
"If a manÑhe doesn't belong to a churchÑsomehow or another if you keep singing to him and he keeps listeningÑand you're calling the Lord's nameÑit's going to get to him. It's going to draw him or drive him, one or the other."
The Fairfield Four, calling the Lord's name, draw more folks in than they drive away. Each of their songs, no matter the style, stacks layer upon layer of wonder. Their five voicesÑHill's baritone, Isaac Freeman's bass, W. L. Richardson's lead alongside Walter Settles's "utility" lead and Wilson Waters's tenorÑfly Õround your head like dazzling threads and ribbons, each a different color and texture, coming from a different direction. Every voice you hear is acrobatic, worshipful and amazing. When you stand back from the harmony parts and look at the whole song, you're draped in a robe of many colors that lingers long after the voices have hushed. 
"I'm surprised we have so many people who come to hear us sing," Hill says. "Young people now. When we went to Spain a while back, we just couldn't get rid of Õem. They took us, just had a fit over us."
Hill reflects upon what the current racial mix and age of his group's audience might mean. Now, in the era of civil rights, it's conceivable that music-minded youth would attend a performance by a Southern black gospel ÒquartetÓ simply to hear the unique style of singing. Yet during these times that truly try men's souls, it's just as easy to believe that they're all looking for some kind of salvation in the lyrics. Ultimately, he realizes it doesn't matter. Either way, they're going to get what they came for.
"I don't know of any other group that sings it the way we do. We always sing so they can understand the words, because we figure singing the song is just like a preacher preaching a sermon. You've got to tell the story, from the beginning to the end."