Ralph Stanley and his brother Carter delivered twenty years of classic bluegrass as the Stanley Brothers. From their earliest radio exposure on WCYB’s “Farm And Fun Time” (Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia), through years of endless touring and major-label recording, until Carter’s death in 1966, the Stanleys amassed legions of fans. Even Bill Monroe’s legendary resentment of the Stanley Brothers — who occasionally recorded songs he popularized — stands as a testament to their popularity.

In recent years, the national media has recognized Stanley as bluegrass music’s greatest living elder statesman. But such acknowledgements are not simply the result of Stanley’s work on the O Brother soundtrack. Nor is this recognition an entirely new phenomenon. Lincoln Memorial University presented Stanley with an honorary doctorate in 1976 (thus his standing as “Dr. Ralph”), and the National Endowment for the Arts named him a National Heritage Award winner in 1984. Since the early 1990s, he has recorded with everyone from George Jones and Lucinda Williams to Bob Dylan and Bill Monroe. (Resentment, it seems, can only last so long.)

But there was another rung on Stanley’s career ladder. In early 1967, decades before the Country Music Association would honor him as their Male Vocalist of the Year, Ralph Stanley faced a singularly difficult decision: Without Carter by his side, would he continue making music as a solo artist?

Encouraged by friends and fans alike, Stanley entered the studio a few months after his brother’s death, and by 1969 he had recorded three albums for King Records. Poor Rambler is a three-disc set preserving each of those albums, plus tracks Stanley recorded with Jimmy Martin for their album First Time Together, released on the Gusto label in 1980.

On Brand New Country Songs, Stanley’s first album for King, his band included Melvin Goins, Curly Ray Cline, and a 19-year-old Larry Sparks, all of whom had worked with the Stanley Brothers. Ralph, now assuming the role of bandleader, chose to steer their music in a slightly different direction. He deliberately opted for a more distinctive mountain sound; his voice sounded nearly as ancient at 40 as it does today. On songs such as “Lonesome” and “Poor Rambler”, the mandolin takes a back seat to Sparks’ guitar runs, and the melodies are carried by Stanley’s banjo and Cline’s raw fiddling.

Over The Sunset Hill, a gospel collection recorded in 1968, is the highlight of this set. The lineup of Goins, Cline and Sparks returned, with the addition of George Shuffler — another Stanley Brothers alumnus — on bass. Ralph’s own “Jesse James Prayed” (“Before every raid, Jesse James prayed/Maybe Jesse was a God-loving man…”) is a curiosity that probably hasn’t found its way into many church hymnals. Still, this record should take its place alongside Cry From The Cross as one of Stanley’s most moving gospel efforts.

“Hills Of Home”, Stanley’s recitation honoring his brother Carter, is the title track of his final King album. Carter’s presence is also felt on “Midnight Storm” and “The Kitten And The Cat”, both of which he co-wrote. Stanley fires his banjo like a machine gun on “Dug-Gunn Shame”, and Sparks’ lead pushes Ralph’s tenor on “I Only Exist”. Goins had left the band at this point, and Jimmy Martin, a former Blue Grass Boy himself, sat in on guitar and mandolin.

Unfortunately, the fine material Stanley and Martin recorded later for Gusto seems a bit jarring. The dozen songs from that session are divided among the three discs as bonus tracks, and tend to sneak in from left field. As opposed to the King recordings, which mainly included Stanley originals, the Stanley-Martin set favored songs such as “Footprints In The Snow”, “In The Pines” and “Rabbit In The Log” (songs, incidentally, that were first associated with Monroe). The more modern production style, which included the use of a drum set, also makes for some difficult transitions.