September Is Country Music Month ~ The Nascent Nineties

By the end of the 1990's, I will have abandoned country music forever. But, oh, the nineties!

It may have been the times, but I don't think so. I do believe that "music is life through the ears of the beholder", as my blog's theme states, but there was something special about country in the nineties. Randy and George and Dwight had primed the pump the decade before, which allowed the artists of the nineties to soar. Too, I was in the prime of my life, at age thirty-five. And in the prime of what, unbeknownst to me, would become my "career". Blue skies shone above. Like country music, I didn't know what awaited me, but I had a feeling it was something good.

People liked to dance ~ buoyant, shit-kicking dance. Not giving a damn about the wagging tongues of the neighbors next door. Line dance, two-step, stumblin' drape-your-arm-around-your-partner dance. Don a western shirt with spangles dance. We even liked Billy Ray Cyrus, cuz you could dance to him.

You couldn't flip on your car radio and not hear a song that didn't make you bounce in your bucket seat and warble off-key into the breeze whooshing outside your wide-open window. I sang along to "Friends In Low Places" roaring home from work in my white Ford Taurus, and I didn't even like Garth Brooks much.

I'd only recently returned to country music by the time the nineties rolled in, but I was fully committed. I even no longer wanted my MTV.  Radio still ruled. Radio was everywhere ~ in our cars, at work, in the kitchen, on camping trips and in the backyard garden. There was no such thing as "streaming". One could barely figure out how to get online and even when we did, we looked around a bit and said, ehh. Country had caught up with the rock world, though, and country videos were available twenty-four hours a day on CMT.

New artists were popping out all over. And ladies (if that is the correct PC term), if you still believe that country is lagging in the female artist department (which never was true, by the way), welcome to the nineties! In the decade there were as many hit songs recorded by women as by men. Maybe girl singers were simply more fun to listen to then, because they were joyous, rather than whiny.

Let's take a quick whoosh through the decade, shall we?

1990:






The year 1991 kicked off in grand country style, with a newly-formed duo (whatever happened to them?):





Another new act had a familiar last name,


 

1992:

Sometimes a song just hits you. It might not be sung by a well-known artist. It might be a passing fancy. Or it might just stay with you:



I liked this new guy. He had a cry in his voice, just like good country artists should. And this is a quintessential country song:



1993:

Speaking of dancin', try not to boogie to this. Joe Diffie was a huge country star in the nineties ~ people tend to forget. I don't.




I could go with a plethora of artists for my second pick, but let's be real. in 1993 Dwight Yoakam released his penultimate album that featured this:







Sorry, can't leave out Clay Walker:



1994:

Shoot me ~ I like this (a lot):



Again, shoot me; but this is an awesome recording. We can arm-wrestle over it, if you insist:



1995:

Nineteen ninety-five was a little lean in the "good hits" department. Thank goodness for Mark Chesnutt. I know I devoted an entire post to Mark, but if I'm culling the best singles of a particular year, this is definitely one:



Oh, remember her? She "ruined" country music, they said. Ha! I, too, was a bit skeptical of Shania Twain in the beginning, but let's compare Shania's songs to today's "country music", shall we? Here's the deal ~ she's an excellent songwriter. She found a niche; she exploited it. Deal.



I will end with 1996, just like Ken Burns did. It's fitting. Ken, a country music neophyte, was maybe onto something. After '96 country life took a downturn. We had the Dixie Chicks, who were okay, but not as awesome as their press wanted us to believe. McGraw and Hill (isn't that an encyclopedia company?) took over. An Australian, who, granted, could play a mean guitar solo but never ever recorded a distinctive track, won new artist of the year at the CMA's. Country was changing. And not in a good way. Somebody somewhere in the bowels of a Nashville office determined that fans didn't know what the hell they needed or wanted, and they were going to proceed to show them.

Bye bye, country.

Let's end on a high note, though, with The King:

One Song

Everybody has one song.

I'm not saying they only have one song, but there's one that seers their heart. They probably don't even know what song it is until they hear it on the radio.

It's the rare artist who has many songs that live up to the lofty promise of a weighty career. For me, I can only name a few -- the Beatles, George Strait, Dwight Yoakam, Roy Orbison -- these are the artists who trip off my tongue.

An age-old question is, "If you were stranded on a desert island and could only possess one album (and apparently something to play it on), what would it be?" I always think, well, I'd get tired of it really fast. But if I had to choose only one album to take with me to that castaway experience, I'd most likely pick an artist whose voice soothed me (because being stranded, with no hope, on an isolated mound of terra firma could, I imagine, rapidly plunge me into a deep depression). I'd rather take a mix-tape of songs I like best, although that's not a panacea, either. Hearing the same songs ten thousand times will quickly devolve into utter hatred.

I was thinking about artists who had just one good song. If an artist has one good song, that's quite enough. That's more than the other quadrillion artists out there have ever accomplished. It's not that they were necessarily one-hit wonders -- they most likely had other songs -- but maybe they just had that one good one.

I can't possibly list all my favorite one good songs, but here are a few:

These are some of my "ones". Kind of a lot, as I peruse them, but that's how music goes. I could write a completely separate post with my "ones". I like ones, though. I like songs -- good songs. 

I need a long-playing tape for my desert island playlist.

1994 ~ Country Music ~ And Work

My new career path of "being in charge" became exponentially better in 1994, once Evil Boss From Hell was canned. Connie, as I detailed in my previous post, had committed an error many in the corporate world make; becoming drunk with power. It's silly when you think about it -- a company only wants you around as long as you are useful to them. The corporate bosses don't care how high an opinion you have of yourself.

Our little office being a far-western outpost of the East Coast Insurance Corridor, we'd had little oversight. As long as our numbers were good (really good), as far as our overseers were concerned, everything in Bismarck, North Dakota was peachy. They didn't know, and probably didn't care that Evil Connie had created her own little fiefdom on the prairie. The office dynamic was much like all offices; underlings who gushed over her, their red lipstick prints imprinted on her butt. The rebels, who either didn't know any better (me) or just said "F it". A couple of us thought our charge was to produce results and to treat our employees like "people". Ha. I was desperately naive, but this was my first time being "in charge", so I operated on instinct.

I stepped confidently into Evil Connie's office for my annual review. My unit's numbers were superb. I was expecting a few kudos and a decent bump in salary. Instead, I was accused of "making the other supervisors look bad". I'd brought caramel rolls for my staff one overtime Saturday morning. "LeeAnn didn't bring caramel rolls!" she charged, jamming her bony finger at me.

I was upbraided for not stopping in to say goodnight to Evil Connie on a daily basis.  As the haranguing continued, I began to cry. The evil woman refused to even reach behind her to grab a Kleenex out of the box to quench the ugly snot that was now dripping from my nose.

Evil Connie's parting words to me were, "Either you become part of my team or I'll replace the team."

The only person I ever told (I didn't even tell the person I was married to -- I was too mortified and ashamed for jeopardizing our family's well-being) was my mentor; my fellow supervisor, who I called that evening. She'd endured the exact same diatribe the same day. Carlene was maybe the rebel of the bunch, but not really. She simply had conducted herself the same way I had -- with a modicum of respect toward her employees. It was maybe a bit better to know I wasn't alone, but I still scoured the newspaper want ads that night. It was clear my days at US Healthcare were limited. I would stop in every evening from that point forward and say goodnight to Evil Connie, and hold onto my job as long as I could, or until I could find another source of income. Our town was tiny and open positions were nearly non-existent. I stepped inside my glass-enclosed cubicle at the front of my unit every morning and tried not to break down in sobs.

(FYI -- #metoo isn't just about sexual harassment. Abuse comes in many forms.)

The Philadelphia honchos generally showed up once a year, if they couldn't find a way to get out of it. To us, they were voices over the phone; I barely recognized their faces when they appeared in the office. I'd see strange men tramping through the corridor and it would dawn on me that these were "the bosses". One was named Dave and I don't remember the other man's name. They showed up unexpectedly in the summer of '93 and sequestered themselves in an unused office. We supervisors gaggled about, speculated. This wasn't a scheduled visit. Eventually, around 1:00 p.m. my phone rang and I was summoned. Dave and Other Guy asked me questions about Evil Connie. I have no recollection what I spilled. I do remember telling them that Peg and Inez deserved to become supervisors (they had languished as assistants for far, far too long and they were smart). I must have said things about Evil Woman, but I don't remember. I do remember wondering why, of all the supervisors, I was the one they zeroed in on.

That was the day I sat in my car at 5:00 and watched, before I shifted into reverse, Evil Connie exit the building with two paper grocery bags and a potted plant. I slumped down in my seat and stared. It seemed like she was leaving forever, but I was disoriented; flummoxed.

I will never know how it happened that Dave and Other Guy homed in on me. Carlene was the only one who knew and she professed innocence and I believe her. She had her own story to tell -- she didn't need to use me as a surrogate. Am I sorry I helped to get Evil Woman fired? No. I've learned that karma doesn't always work, but sometimes it does. After all these years, do I feel sorry for Evil Connie? No. I will say that she taught me one thing, though -- always watch your back. There are always more people who'd rather shoot you than shake your hand. And it's all based on their insecurities; their shortcomings. Their inherent flaws.

(Shortly thereafter, both Peg and Inez secured supervisor positions. It remains one of the few times in my life I ever felt listened to.)

Once Evil Bitch was gone forever, some poor decent, capable, professional man got shipped in to take over.

I don't remember his name (alas), but someone back in the home office must have been jealous of him; wanted to get rid of him, so they gave him the least desirous post they could find on the map. New Manager was a good company man, so he (no doubt reluctantly) acceded to his new post (I would soon enough find out how that whole scheme worked).

This man was completely hands-off, which is how a manager should have been. But he did understand that we were all winging it, and he brought in professionals to teach us how to be supervisors. We all met at lunchtime in a conference room and were schooled in management theory. Our new manager passed out paperback copies of "Leadership Secrets of Attila The Hun" and sent us home to read and absorb. This man is now long retired, but as professionally distant as he was toward us, I will never forget what he did for me. I didn't need to get up close and personal with him; I didn't need to shed tears in his office. I needed him to manage and mentor, and that's exactly what he did.

As the soul-crushing cloud of Evil Woman dissipated, life at US Healthcare became sweet. Somebody came up with a "get to know you" game, in which we devised ten questions for each person to answer, and we had to find someone whose answer matched the one on the card in our hand. It was a free-for-all of everyone milling about, trying to notch ten correct responses so we'd win. It was a game without a prize, but that wasn't the point. I remember one of us supervisors came up with, "What kind of car do you drive?" and our aloof manager had answered, "Infiniti", a make of car of which I'd never heard, but I realized this guy had money, and why not? He had a thankless job in a rustic wilderness. He deserved some kind of reward.

Me, being me, devised the question, "What's your favorite song?" That was fun. I soon learned that, out of the one hundred and fifty-or-so of us, one hundred and forty-nine loved country music. That warmed my heart, because country deserved to be loved in 1994. Diamond Rio, Collin Raye, Mark Chesnutt, Dwight Yoakam, Vince Gill, Joe Diffie, Little Texas, George, Pam Tillis, Clay Walker, Alan Jackson. It was a country music renaissance in '94.

Life was suddenly good and we had music like this:

Sorry, no live performance video of this one, but come on:

My man:

I confess; I love this song:

I saw Diamond Rio in concert once, in an intimate casino setting, and I also saw the mandolin player, Gene Johnson, eat a steak and baked potato in front of me, bothered by autograph-seeking fans, but while I was seated behind him, I gave him his space. Anything else would have been disrespectful, but I did and do love Diamond Rio:

They used to make heartbreak songs:

Alan Jackson's flame had turned into more of a smolder already by '94 -- he was settling into a real career that would eventually land him in the Country Music Hall of Fame. That doesn't mean he wasn't still making good records; they just weren't Oh Wow! records. I like this one:

This recording did sound familiar, but I didn't know (or had forgotten) that it was a Jackie DeShannon song. In my defense, it had been the B side of another track, and it was released in1963, when all I cared about was Top Forty (though I had no idea what Top Forty actually was). Regardless, Pam Tillis did Jackie DeShannon proud:

I could include tons more hits from 1994, but suffice it to say that it was the tail end of the golden age of country. I was thirty-nine years old and on my way to horizons and heartbreaks I couldn't even conjure.

1994, however, was the last time music played a huge part in my little life story.

Bad Years In Country Music ~ Let's Not Forget The Nineties

I've been feeling a bit guilty about honing in on the decades of the seventies and eighties, when, in actuality, all decades have their allotment of bad music.  No doubt the sixties did, too, but that time frame would be more of a history lesson for me, as opposed to a clear remembrance.  (Don't worry; I'm sure I'll get to that decade as well).

Why pick on 1994?

Well, a quick scan of the charts points to the sad fact that a lot of the big names of the late eighties/early nineties had sort of peaked by then.  And thus, they were recording substandard songs.  Vince Gill, Tracy Lawrence, Brooks & Dunn, Pam Tillis, Ricky Van Shelton, Garth Brooks, Travis Tritt....their big hits had already happened.  That's not to say that some of these guys didn't go on to record better songs later; but 1994 was apparently a watershed year (I always wanted to use the phrase "watershed year") in their careers. 

Also, in 1994, we saw the first appearances of Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, et al, and we all know what that led to.  I don't think I have to paint a picture.

And remember John Michael Montgomery?  He'd had a big hit with "Life's A Dance", and everybody liked it, even though we had that lingering quibble that he didn't actually sing the song on key.  But we chose to overlook it.  By 1994, he, too, was on the downslide, and now he's known as the brother of that guy who sings in a duo about what his hometown looks like.

I'm not saying there weren't good, or even great songs, released in 1994.  Because there were.  But there was a lot of impossible-to-scrub-from-your-mind drivel, as well.  As evidenced by this (which appears to have been the top hit of the year):

TIM MCGRAW:



There are so many things wrong with this song, it's a chore to even begin.  First of all, that thin, reedy voice.  But really, the voice is the least of this recording's issues.  It's the whole smarmy, "am I supposed to cry now?" vibe that it gives off.  One knows where the song is heading, after the middle of the first verse.  I don't know who wrote it (and I could look it up, but I'm not really that interested), and these guys (I'm just guessing it's "guys", plural, because, you know, that's the big fad ~ co-writing ~ as if it is impossible for one to actually write a whole song by oneself) don't really care that I hate this song, nor that anyone with any modicum of taste hates this song, because they made huge dollars from it, and he who laughs last....has the last laugh....or something.

And then there was Garth Brooks with "The Red Strokes".  I barely remember this song, and don't bother looking, because you will never find a Garth Brooks video online (except for a couple of grainy live performance videos), so I'm choosing to just ignore Garth Brooks for the rest of this post.  If and when he decides to stop hording his videos, maybe I'll give him his due.

But, of course, not everyone had horrible taste in 1994.  Just most people.  However, this song was a big, big hit, and it actually deserved it.

I've written about this song before, and you can call it "kitschy"; or call it whatever you want.  I love this song.  And it's a true original.

DAVID BALL



And then we had LITTLE TEXAS.

Little Texas had a couple of really good songs, and this one was the best.  Unfortunately (of course), apparently Little Texas, or what is left of them without Brady Seals, chooses not to share its videos online (they attended the Garth Brooks school of artist promotion).  So, in order to include this song, I had to go with this video, which was created, I'm sure, out of love.  But I'd rather have an actual video of the guys performing the song.



I don't know if VINCE GILL ever recorded a bad song.  This is a song he wrote about Amy Grant, when he really wasn't supposed to, but he did anyway.



Remember MARY CHAPIN CARPENTER?  I always liked her.  I guess she aged too much, and they didn't want her anymore.  Isn't that the way it goes?



You're probably asking yourself at this point, well, where are the actual BAD songs?  I mean, aside from Tim McGraw?  Well, you know me.  I prefer positive energy to negative, so I'm skipping a bunch of bad ones, and featuring the ones I like.

I know that tends to not prove my theory, but would I rather be right, or rather have fun?  I'll take fun.

So, here's one, by ALAN JACKSON:



We also had TRISHA YEARWOOD in 1994.  Trisha, unsurprisingly, adheres to her husband's (Garth's) theory regarding NOT sharing videos online, so, alas, we're stuck with this pale green (and who thinks that's an attractive color?) video of  "Xxx's and Ooo's" (and doesn't that actually read, "X's and ooohs"?  I think the spelling is off here.)



And then there was FAITH HILL.  I've got nothing against Faith.  Okay, I do.  But it's not necessarily because of this song.  Although I read that she'd never in her life heard the Janis Joplin version.  I'm thinking little Faith led a very sheltered life.  No, what I really have against Faith Hill is that she alone caused me to finally give up on country music.  But it was a later song that did it.  Something about breathing.  And one wouldn't think that breathing would be bad.  But it was.

EDIT:  Sorry, I removed this video.  It was kind enough to auto-play, and I like to make up my own mind whether to listen to/watch a video or not.  But you can find it online, if you search really hard (it's not on YouTube).

I don't think I remember where I was the first time I heard any song, except for this one.  I distinctly remember sitting in my parked car, waiting to pick up my kids from school, when this song came on the radio.  Why do I remember it?  I'll guess it was (a) because it was my very favorite singer, GEORGE STRAIT; and (b) because it was so good.  I almost swooned over this song.  Especially when he hit the high notes. 



Speaking of good, what about DWIGHT YOAKAM?



Let's not forget PATTY LOVELESS (she ranks right up there with Patsy and Tammy, really):



I didn't realize this next song was from 1994.  I have a quibble with a popular radio/TV host using this as his theme song, because I wonder if he ever actually listened to the whole song, aside from the tag line.  Because this song is pretty stark and dramatic, and it's not actually a patriotic song (duh).

Here is MARTINA MCBRIDE:



I truly hate songs about tractors.  Because everyone who sings them has no clue about tractors.  They could just as well be singing about jumbo paper clips.  This one, however, seems more authentic; a slice of small-town life.  My dad would like this song, even though he hated John Deere tractors.

Here is JOE DIFFIE:



To help prove my point about bad music in 1994, Tim McGraw makes yet another appearance.  This video is striking, if for no other reason than for the odd way Tim wears his hat.   But I guess that's his "signature", isn't it?  Wearing one's hat like a dork ~ must be Tim McGraw!

And let's not even get into the offensiveness of this song.  Because, where does one start?



I remember getting up early in the morning, shuffling to the bathroom to get ready for work; flipping on the FM radio, and hearing this song, and just thinking about it.  Every morning.

I am an unabashed COLLIN RAYE fan.  I don't know Tom Douglas's work, but I know this song.  And Tom must have had a special, personal insight, in order to write this.  This proves that the best songs aren't necessarily written by the people whose names you know.  The song stands on its own.



Most people (I'm guessing) don't remember LARI WHITE.  I do.  I bought two of her CD's.  I think she was just great.  And here is one that proves it:



Like Lari White, you may not remember THE MAVERICKS  I always found the name, The Mavericks, ironic, because my best friend, Alice, was in a band called The Mavericks, until somebody raised a fuss, and said, hey, we've got that name!  Pick something different!  

But that's neither here nor there.  This Mavericks was headed by Raul Malo.  And here is a 1994 song, and a good one:



Speaking of tractors (you have to keep up ~ that was a few paragraphs back), what about THE TRACTORS?

Never had another hit song; but that's how the old train rolls,doesn't it?

I leave you with Baby Likes To Rock It:



So, my theory is essentially moot.  I thought 1994 was bad, but it really was sort of good.

Okay, I skipped a bunch.  I just couldn't bring myself to relive the bad parts of 1994.  But you can look it up, if you are a masochist.  Trust me, though, there was some bad stuff in 1994.

The thing was, though, the good outweighed the bad.  That's the thing about radio.

One can remember a year as being bad, but if they take a closer look, it's really that the bad stuff was so omnipresent, it obscured the good things.

Maybe it's just that 1994 was a harbinger of the bad times to come.  And believe me, there were bad times to come.

But I must say, I've enjoyed this look back (most of it).  So, it's a win-win.  I'd forgotten most of it, but that's what comes with old age.  One tends to forget things, or bundle them into one big thing; one that has no identifiable parameters, but rather, tends to be something we like to call the "good old days".

Lord, I guess I've finally crossed that threshold, haven't I?

Blast From The Past - Top Country Hits Of 1994

1994 was an interesting year for country music. By 1994, country music was starting to teeter on the brink. The brink between good music and pap (or a word that rhymes with "pap").

I was still very much into country music at that time, but the warning signs were starting to appear.

Nevertheless, there were some great songs that year.

Here's one that I loved to torment my kids with. I really, really like this song, but when he gets to the "Ad-MIT" part, I used to turn the volume up really high on the radio. My kids hated country music, and this, to them, was the ultimate in corn. I happen to think it's great.

"Thinkin' Problem" is my favorite song from 1994. Cool video, too.

DAVID BALL - THINKIN' PROBLEM


Speaking of cool videos, here's another of my faves. This group, unfortunately, was sort of a one-hit wonder. Speaking of wonder, I wonder whatever happened to:

THE TRACTORS - BABY LIKES TO ROCK IT


What an entertaining video! Excellent!


Say what you will about Garth Brooks, but he respects his fans. He always strived to keep ticket prices low, and he's not stingy about sharing his videos on YouTube, the way some paranoid artists are.

I saw Garth Brooks in concert, and while I wasn't one of his rabid fans, I must say, he put on a great show. He put his all into his performances. I went with my mom - the last concert she and I ever attended together. I have fond memories of that.

And here's a (really grainy, too dark) picture to prove it:

Bad picture aside, here is Garth Brooks: CALLIN' BATON ROUGE


I kept saying to people, when this single came out, somebody else recorded this song! Everyone looked at me like I was nuts (although that does tend to happen a lot), but I was right! New Grass Revival did this song first. Turns out, Garth reunited this band when he did the recording. Good job, Garth. Good job, Wayne (oops, I got my pop culture mixed up there for a second).


Well, you well know how I feel about Dwight Yoakam. I guess I rank him right up there with the very best that country has to offer.

And this video is no exception. I remember, he was on David Letterman's show, and David was making fun of what Dwight says at the end of this song. I guess it's, "Ahhhhh, SUKI". Whatever that means. Not that it matters. This is a song that'll get you dancing, believe me.

DWIGHT YOAKAM - FAST AS YOU


How about that??


This seems like an opportune time to note that, while George Strait had three hit singles in 1994, NONE OF THEM are available for embedding. Hmmm, did I mention "paranoid" earlier? Thanks, MCA. Because, you know, heaven forbid that we might want to WATCH a George Strait video, or add it to our blog.

This doesn't negate the high esteem in which I hold George. It's not his fault. It's the stupid record label. But, geez, c'mon.

For the record, George's hit songs from 1994 were, "Love Bug" (a remake of an old George Jones song ~ NOT a Buck Owens song, as the press wrongly noted), "I'd Like To Have That One Back", and my favorite, "The Big One".


And now Alan Jackson. No embeddable videos. MCA again. Alan had a hit single in 1994, "Livin' On Love". LUCKILY, I found the version that was created for the hearing-impaired. I guess MCA relented and decided that hearing-impaired people could embed this video. The corporate mind works in mysterious ways.

ALAN JACKSON - LIVIN' ON LOVE



Not to leave out the females, but again, I'm having issues finding embeddable videos.

Luckily, I found this live performance by Patty Loveless of:

I TRY TO THINK ABOUT ELVIS


Patty is one of the best country singers of the modern age. I don't know what happened to her career of late. I guess she's been usurped by the new, plastic versions. They're the newest models in the showroom.


MARTINA MCBRIDE - INDEPENDENCE DAY


I like Sean Hannity as much as the next Republican, but I really hate that he uses this song as his theme song. Does he get what this song is about? It's not a patriotic song. I think he should actually listen to it. Then he'd be kind of embarrassed, I would think.

That aside, I was glad to find this version.


Now, for something a bit more mellow. Here's another artist who is grossly underrated:

LEE ROY PARNELL - HOLDING MY OWN



Remember Collin Raye? He was really big in the nineties. Especially with that song, "In This Life". Don't you think that was, at one time, the number one wedding song? I always thought it would be a perfect funeral song. Not to be maudlin. But I love that song, and, I guess, if they played that at my funeral, I wouldn't complain (ha!)

But Collin had more than one good song, and this is a really good one. I always thought, whenever I heard this on the radio, that if I could write a song this good, I could die happy (oh, here we go with the "funeral" stuff again). But, honestly, this is a great song. I guess the writer was Tom Douglas. And I'll admit, I don't know anything about him. But, like I said, he wrote a great one.

COLLIN RAYE - LITTLE ROCK



Here's a group that I love. Diamond Rio. Marty Roe. What a singer.

I saw this group in concert, too. I saw them at a casino, in an intimate setting. I loved that show.

Before the show, my then-husband and I were having dinner in the dining room, and I noticed Gene Johnson, the mandolin player, trying to eat his dinner. People kept coming up to him, interrupting his meal. And he was really nice. I thought, geez, what a bummer. He can't even eat his steak. How can people be so rude? I was (am) a big admirer of Gene, but I would never, NEVER, go up to him while he's trying to eat his dinner, and bother him. But I guess that's just me.

DIAMOND RIO - LOVE A LITTLE STRONGER



LARI WHITE - NOW I KNOW


This is another underrated singer/songwriter. Again, I can't help but wonder whatever happened to Lari White. She was big in the nineties. Rightfully so. I was a big Lari White fan. I had a couple of her CD's. I imagine she's writing now. Sorry, but I can't keep track of everybody.


Here's a good one! Remember the Mavericks? Oh, c'mon. Yes, you do! Raul Malo? This guy had (has) quite the voice.

The name, "The Mavericks", has a sentimental meaning to me. Because my friend, Alice's band, originally was called The Mavericks, until somebody complained that the name was already in use, and they got one of those "cease and desist" orders, so Alice's band became "Rocky Top".

That's neither here nor there. Here are The Mavericks (Miami version) doing:

THERE GOES MY HEART


Here's another nineties kind of guy, Clay Walker. I had a friend back then who was a HUGE Clay Walker fan. And I liked him, too. Here's his big song from 1994:

LIVE UNTIL I DIE



We started out with my favorite song from 1994; "Thinkin' Problem". Well, here's my SECOND favorite. I love this song, and I couldn't tell you why. I just do.

LITTLE TEXAS - MY LOVE








I guess 1994 wasn't so bad after all. And I left out a bunch of stuff. Because I couldn't find videos. Joe Diffie. He was a big star in 1994. Vince Gill. It's not my fault that none of his stuff is available for embedding.

I still say, however, that 1994 was a watershed year in country music. It's sort of when the music died, and "something else on the horizon" took its place. Pity. I really miss it. Cuz it was REALLY GOOD while it lasted.