"Then we can create a grand effect by overlapping voices, adding both lightness and reverberation to the song's style."
"Exactly."
"It's also a good idea to record the two voices separately."
"In that case, why not play the two parts with two different instruments?"
"Won't that complicate things? The essence of this song is simplicity—capturing a sense of airiness and ease. If the arrangement becomes too complex, it risks becoming overly ornate, straying from the decade's signature style."
"No, it won't. We can use the banjo for the second part, playing the same score but leveraging the instrument's natural characteristics to create contrast. The banjo is lighter, more translucent, and clearer in tone. If we lower its volume and keep the guitar as the lead, the overall style will still—"
"No, no, you're misunderstanding me. Le Vern and Mickey's music was originally simple and pure. That was their guiding principle."
"I understand. But what I mean is, when two voices harmonize, the style becomes richer and fuller. When left alone, the solo voice feels more fragile, evoking a sense of loneliness and weariness. The stylistic approach of that decade was distinctive and widely used among folk musicians. Strictly speaking, it was niche at the time, but I believe it will make Le Vern's music stand out more... Wait a moment."
Marcus abandoned his explanation, stood up, and walked toward a corner filled with instruments, including a banjo.
Justin had just taken his seat, but no one noticed him.
Before him, Renly, Marcus, and Ben were locked in a fervent debate, refusing to concede an inch. Their rapid exchange of ideas made it difficult to keep pace. Even Ben could only interject occasionally, while Renly and Marcus passionately exchanged their perspectives.
In the midst of the lively discussion, only Ben noticed Justin's arrival. He glanced at him briefly before turning his attention back to the conversation. Justin, sensing their enthusiasm, chose not to interrupt, instead listening intently.
Marcus picked up the banjo and returned to his seat. "Let's play it out now and see how it sounds. If it doesn't work, I won't insist on it. You play the primary melody on the acoustic guitar, and I'll take the second voice with the banjo."
Renly nodded.
He strummed an eight-beat rhythm. "Should I stay in this key? Are you dropping down, or should I go up?"
"I'll go down. The banjo serves as an accompanying part—it shouldn't overpower the original style of the song."
Without further discussion, they began playing.
Their first attempt lacked synchronization—Renly was a quarter beat ahead, while Marcus lagged behind. Their entries and exits were misaligned, producing a jarring effect. On their second attempt, Renly played an eight-beat intro before Marcus joined in, significantly improving the overall flow.
The song, "Wave Goodbye," was the one Renly had performed on the first day of their gathering at Pioneer Village.
With the acoustic guitar as the lead and the banjo as the secondary layer, the interplay between the instruments added depth and complexity to the melody. The song's resonance became more pronounced, elevating the overall listening experience.
After their second run-through, Marcus made an observation: "I should keep it lighter in the verse—I can tweak that later. But for the chorus, I think the acoustic guitar should take a backseat while the banjo steps forward. That will enhance the song's distinctiveness."
This time, Renly didn't argue. "Let's try it. Do you want to add your second voice? Let's see how it affects the chorus. I'll take the lead, and you harmonize."
"Sounds good. You start, I'll harmonize, and we'll adjust the chorus dynamics to see what works best."
They launched into their third performance.
"If I can spread my wings like Noah's dove, I will cross the rivers and pursue my true love. Waving goodbye, my love, may you cherish. There is a giant in the sky in my heart, tall and majestic. Cannonball. Waving goodbye, my love, may you cherish it."
Renly's soft, melodic hum blended with Marcus's harmonization, their voices intertwining with the gentle pluck of guitar and banjo strings. The song exuded a wistful yet free-spirited energy—melancholy tinged with the quiet joy of reminiscence.
But before Justin could fully absorb the moment, the melody was abruptly cut off.
"No, no," both Renly and Marcus shook their heads.
"It's too elaborate—it loses its original essence," Renly pointed out. "The biggest issue is the difference in arrangement styles between the 1960s and today. Modern compositions separate verses, choruses, and bridges clearly, but back then, transitions were more fluid. 'Wave Goodbye' is a perfect example of that older style."
Marcus nodded. "In that case, let's keep the acoustic guitar as the dominant element throughout. You lead the vocals, and the banjo can take the spotlight during the bridge section. We'll pick up the tempo there, emphasizing the impending departure and the anticipation of the future."
"Let's try it," Renly agreed.
Without hesitation, they launched into another rendition. After four beats, the bridge section lifted the melody.
Marcus, ever the showman, exaggerated his expressions, winking and making playful faces as he performed. Renly, though more reserved, radiated quiet delight. The rhythm of his strumming grew lighter, more buoyant.
At the conclusion, Marcus and Renly simultaneously snapped their fingers—a silent agreement.
Ben, who had been listening quietly, seized the moment. "Is this the final arrangement? Marcus, do you have any additional thoughts?"
"Any particular concerns?" Renly asked. The arrangement was his creation, but he had relied on instinct rather than meticulous refinement. If there were any insights to explore, he was open to discussion.
"Not a concern per se," Ben responded. "But adding the banjo brings the song closer in style to '500 Miles.' The problem is that Le Vern opposed musical diversity—he was steadfast in preserving the purity of folk traditions. You even mentioned this earlier, which makes me wonder: does this arrangement truly align with Le Vern's character?"
Ben's expertise lay in his ability to align music with storytelling. Though not an actor himself, he possessed a keen understanding of narrative nuances.
Turning to Marcus, Ben elaborated, "Your arrangement works well as a duet, but your style is more contemporary, whereas Renly's interpretation is more rooted in the 1960s. The question is: do we want the soundtrack to reflect the sixties' perspective, or do we want to reinterpret the sixties through a modern lens?"
Marcus quickly grasped the dilemma. Raising his hands in surrender, he said, "I'm just a singer—I don't analyze performances or filmmaking. I just thought this arrangement would distinguish Le Vern from Mickey while allowing their styles to blend in a duet. But ultimately, it's up to Le Vern."
All eyes turned to Renly.
He pondered for a moment. "That's exactly what I was worried about."
"But here's something interesting—I discussed this with Joel and Ethan. Mickey's character is unique; he chose to end his life in a tragic act of self-destruction. What led him to that decision? No one knows but Mickey."
Renly continued, "We made a subtle change to his character. In addition to 'Wave Goodbye,' he also sings 'Ancient Trio' with Jim. This suggests that, when faced with his dream's collapse, Mickey wavered—he experimented with something different."
"So, what if 'Wave Goodbye' marks the beginning of that change? Doesn't our collaboration mirror what might have happened between Le Vern and Mickey?"
Then, Renly turned to Justin. "What do you think?"
Justin, caught off guard, blinked. "Me?"