DOLLY Parton was a lovely person but her music was, well, country. Nonetheless you hate to miss out, so join in the ongoing public mourning by claiming to love these songs:
9 to 5, 1980
Assert you really empathise with the daily grind as outlined by Dolly, even though you work from home and take a three-hour lunch. Tell anybody who listens you ‘want to move ahead, but the boss won’t seem to let me’ without adding you’re a barely functional employee of a Hyderabad bot farm and no institutional misogyny is involved.
Jolene, 1974
Quickly, before anyone else, point out she wrote this on the same day as I Will Always Love You. Phew. And now, your position as lead Parton mourner secured, add that Jolene must have been a twelve-foot shagbot with eight beer-dispensing tits to tempt somebody away from early-70s Dolly Parton.
The Grass Is Blue, 1999
Casually mention that Dolly was a really underrated bluegrass musician and this song displays an Appalachian folksiness that respects the heritage of Scruggs and Monroe while redolent of modern-day Krauss or Tuttle. You don’t need to know what any of those words mean.
D-I-V-O-R-C-E, 1968
That was Tammy Wynette. Don’t fall into the trap of mentioning this one unless you’re confident everyone around you is equally ignorant.
Islands in the Stream, 1983
Loudly sing along to the ‘Ah-haaa’ bits at the end of each line while pointing at your friend and just sort of mumble along to the tune for the rest of it. Throw in a yee-hah if you’re feeling especially adventurous.
Love Is Like a Butterfly, 1974
Ponder out loud whether any other insects are like emotions. Is anger like an earwig? Is boredom like a dung beetle? You should only have to come up with half a dozen or so examples before the song is over and you can put on something you like.
Me and Little Andy, 1977
Genuinely about a poverty-stricken toddler and her puppy dying after having walked through a winter storm because her mum ran away, like a full house of country music. Tell people to turn it off because it’s too sad and it makes you cry every time to avoid having to actually listen to the wretched thing.
