When my best friend Alice and I were barely in our teens, we'd go to every country music show that came to the old World War Memorial building in town. We barely cared who was playing, some old codgers like Ernest Tubb or Kitty Wells or a singer we'd only heard one song from on the radio. There wasn't much to do in our little town. We could either see a movie or go bowling. And most of the movies were awful, generally some hastily spat-out Elvis flick or something like Paint Your Wagon. The only fun we had at those movies was making fun of them. Thus, we attended a lot of what were called package shows, with a headliner and two opening acts.
On one of those shows the opening act was a southern gospel quartet called The Plainsmen. We'd, of course, never heard of them. Living in the Upper Midwest, we hadn't heard any southern gospel. They were great! High energy; a perfect blend of lead, tenor, baritone, and bass, with songs like Have a Little Talk With Jesus and other gospel tunes we might have heard one time in our lives (we were barely churchgoers, much less attendees of any service with this kind of music).
The Oak Ridge Boys, too, began as a gospel group. And they just might have been "secular gospel" throughout their careers. They tended toward tracks with that same kind of vibe, from Elvira to Love Song. Yes, they had "smoother" hits, too, but it was that gospel arrangement that shot them to fifty years of fame. Was there ever a time when The Oak Ridge Boys didn't exist in our consciousness?
Like most every long-time country fan, I, too, saw The Oaks in person. It was right around the height of their Elvira/Bobbie Sue fame, and I saw them from a seat at a State Fair grandstand, from which they were quite tiny, but the sound was still huge. Seeing them had been on my bucket list for a while, so I grabbed my chance. My kids were little, but they went, too, along with my parents.
I think the first Oaks album I ever bought turned out to be, accidentally, a gospel album. The LP's name, simply "The Oak Ridge Boys", didn't give it away as such. It wasn't that I had anything against gospel, of course, but I'd meant to buy one of their country albums. That album was good! It had country tracks that could be construed as "sort of" gospel, like The Baptism of Jesse Taylor and Why Me, as well as Loves Me Like a Rock.
Two Oaks hits from 1977 cemented my fandom:
Here is a Rodney Crowell song:
In case you don't know, Joe Bonsall was the tenor of the group. He's featured on this one:
Love Song demonstrates the call and response I referenced in the group's gospel style. The Oaks excelled at it.
The thing about The Oak Ridge Boys was that while a few of their tracks did highlight one singer's vocals, that wasn't the norm. They were a group in the purest sense of the word. Yes, I talk about them in past tense, because the group will be no more. The remaining members are in bad health, and with Joe Bonsall's passing, there will be no replacing him (if that was even possible). There was a brief period when William Lee Golden left, that a replacement was found. It turned out to be a sad chapter. And in recent years, fill-ins have stepped in from time to time. It's sad to ponder that those years are gone, but they aren't really. We still have their music and we have the videos.
A writer for The Federalist got in hot water recently for pointing out that Dolly Parton is non-committal when it comes to social issues. Because, you know, everyone loves Dolly and thus she has no faults. One of the "perks" of getting old is the freedom to speak one's mind, and no bones about it, at age 78, Dolly Parton is old. But the fact is, Parton has never expressed an opinion on anything. That's her modus operandi. One could ask her if she prefers okra or collard greens and she'd say, well, I don't want to make a judgement on that. Is that why she's so beloved? Because she's an empty vessel (or pretends to be)?
I'm old enough to have witnessed Dolly Parton's rise. I watched her on The Porter Wagoner Show in the sixties when she was the new "girl singer", replacing Norma Jean. She was tiny with a big blonde beehive and other big things, and she was definitely bubbly. And she complemented Wagoner's voice, which is one of her talents ~ she can complement nearly anyone's voice, from Kenny Rogers to The Trio to whomever she's singing with. Porter would let her sing one of her own songs solo each week and they were "good", in that they had an original point of view. Up to that time most female country singers, except Loretta Lynn, of course, recorded songs written by men. Truthfully, though, when she began recording her own albums, most of the songs weren't great. Except for her first couple of releases, she leaned toward sort of folk, with tracks like "Joshua" and the dreaded "Jolene". And she foisted the awful "I Will Always Love You" on the world. I bought her albums and really wanted to like them, but aside from her duet LP's with Porter, which I adored, Dolly was never really my cup of tea.
Then suddenly she went Hollywood and became a gay icon. Fine. Don't care. She made her debut in Nine To Five, which was a cute, funny movie, although actually Jane Fonda's character was the best (and I'm no Fonda fan). It was really the late Dabney Coleman who made that film, but Dolly's performance was "fine", albeit a bit amateurish. She was in all the tabloids, attended all the parties, posed for the cover of Playboy. She may have no opinions, but she's always had plenty of ambition. And naturally she strayed farther and farther from country. "Islands In The Stream" is a Barry Gibbs pop song, but again, her duet partner, Rogers, was a pop singer.
Maybe it was longevity that turned her into a "legend", but now even people who've never listened to one of her records considers her the queen. One would think after all these accolades that she wouldn't be afraid to speak out about...something. Doesn't she have enough millions by now? (Yes, I know she's a very charitable person. That's not what this post is about.)
I, for one, think she would be admired more, and actually listened to, if she didn't always deflect. At age 78, it's okay to say something.
I enjoy browsing Reddit, particularly a few forums I've joined, but when logging onto the site, one is presented with a variety of topics, and many contain posts from Gen Z'ers asking a variation of "Who else is depressed?" or "How do you handle your depression?" I generally skip past those posts because I hate self-pity. Then I realized that depression has even invaded the music market.
Years ago when we were plugging our music I joined a few licensing sites. The only one that ever offered a return was AudioSparx, which isn't even listed among the top sites anymore. A few times a year we'd get a check for twenty or so dollars from them because they'd included a few of our tracks on their compilation CD's (although who was buying those CD's is a mystery to me). I'd forgotten that I'd joined Broadjam. It had to be a long time ago, because only our early songs existed on the site. But every once in a while I'll get an email from them offering a free submission credit. I generally take advantage of it because free, after all, is free. With our newer (better) tracks uploaded, I figure there must be one or two licensing opportunities we would fit. Not particularly.
There are a lot of calls for "melancholy". If this is what people are listening to, no wonder they're depressed! I don't do melancholy, and on the rare occasions something depressed me, the last thing I felt like doing was writing a song. Lie down and pull the covers over my heard, sure. Maybe kids need to steer clear of depressing music and everything else in their environment that encourages them to wallow. When, in what decade, was life ever easy? I must have missed it. But at least I could always count on music to lift my mood, and yes, as I've written before, even sad country songs can make one feel happy in a way. A pouring out of emotion is cathartic. "Hey, at least I don't have it as bad that singer does!"
I admit that my musical knowledge is antiquated. Apparently that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Granted, Beyonce's rendition of Jolene is awful, but people seem to forget that Dolly Parton's original is no gem, either. I hated the track when it was released in 1973; thus, it was played constantly on radio. All the worst ones are. Don't get me wrong; the original lyrics are fine, but that melody! Not only banal, but depressing. (Don't tell me, well, it's a depressing message. A good song isn't just lyrics. That would be a poem.) Dolly is a decent enough songwriter, but melody is not her strong suit (see: Coat of Many Colors; To Daddy)
I've seen a lot of commentary this week about Beyonce's version. She took the only adequate component of the song, the lyrics, and changed them completely! And need I say that those changes reek? A commentator I admire said it best. "Now the song doesn't mean anything." I agree that it presents no message other than, "I'm gonna whup your ass". Okie-dokie. And really, no one can convey that message quite like Toby Keith. It's not even a contest.
I suppose what annoys me about the commentary, though it really shouldn't, is that these people are suddenly country music experts. I don't doubt that they've heard the original version of Jolene. It's probably the only country song they've ever heard, yet each of them is quick to pronounce their "fondness" for country music. "I like Brad Paisley," said one. I'm surprised no one said, "I shore could use me some of that Hank Williams." It's okay, guys; everyone is not required to like it.
I freely admit that I'm not a fan of current R&B, or whatever it is that Beyonce does. I'm also not a fan of her voice. It seems to me that she used to at least stretch her vocal cords a bit, but on this album she's singing in a dreary alto.
And why is there any debate over whether Cowboy Carter is a country album? The answer is: It is not a country album. Plain and simple. It's not. There can't possibly be any argument over that. And by the way, why is it so important for her fans to try to label it one? Big George Strait fans or something? Honestly.
What's almost worse are the songwriters/original artists who've praised her cover versions. Sincerity seems lost nowadays. Dolly and Paul McCartney certainly have good musical taste. They can't possibly think these lifeless dirges are "awesome". Was she really tired when she recorded them?
I suppose, like Taylor Swift, Beyonce is a pop culture star; mediocre but with a ton of flash. Flash is what matters. Beyonce's new album has zero impact on my life, so people can call it whatever makes them happy.
Rarely does the Country Music Hall of Fame announcement pass by without my comment. I've been a bit distracted by other projects, but that doesn't mean I didn't notice. Truly, though, last week's announcement was neither surprising nor particularly interesting.
As you no doubt know, three individuals (or duos, groups) are inducted into the HOF each year, based on the following categories:
Modern Era ~ an artist is eligible twenty years after they first achieved national prominence.
Veteran Era ~ an artist is eligible forty years after they first achieved national prominence.
The third is a rotating category, consisting of either a recording and/or touring musician, a songwriter, or a "non-performer" (generally a music executive). Since a songwriter was inducted in 2023 (Bob McDill), this year was a musician's turn.
The problems with these arcane rules are obvious. First of all, the "electors" are completely anonymous. This naturally leads to suspicion about campaigning. And campaigning absolutely happens. It's widely known that Keith Whitley was chosen a few years back because his widow, Lorrie Morgan, campaigned hard for him to be elected.
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame does things differently. It creates a list of nominees based on "historians'" recommendations. Again, we don't know who these people are and what exactly qualifies them as historians. Shoot, I could be a historian ~ you don't know that I'm not. Then the winners are voted on by "an international body of some 500 rock experts". However, fans are now also able to vote for up to seven artists from this list. This comprises the "fans' ballot", although it's unknown how much weight those votes are given.
Generally, anywhere from six to a dozen artists are inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame each year, compared to three (one a non-artist) for the Country Music Hall of Fame.
Three. Know how much of a backlog this creates?
The CMHOF claims that this keeps the process "exclusive". Oh, it does. It excludes an artist who has died (and there have been many) from celebrating their eventual induction. It's shameful. Jerry Lee Lewis was lucky, I guess. He was finally inducted at the age of eighty-eight and died only a few months later. I'm dubious that any of the rock and roll inductees refused their award because it wasn't "exclusive". Yet, despite numerous calls for the process to be revised, the cabal remains recalcitrant. It seems that they are the ones who want to remain exclusive.
All that said, my quibble with the 2024 inductees is not with who was elected, but with who wasn't.
Modern Era
An artist is not eligible for election within one year of his or her death. As it happened, Toby Keith was voted in before his untimely death in February. No one can say he's not deserving. He scored a total of twenty number one hits and several top tens. Pretty good career.
Though his music mostly wasn't to my taste, millions upon millions of fans loved him. And, as I wrote before, he was by all accounts a good man.
Which other artists were eligible? Dwight Yoakam, Clint Black, Travis Tritt, Shania Twain, Martina McBride, Tracy Lawrence, Kenny Chesney, Tim McGraw, Lorrie Morgan, Steve Wariner, Trisha Yearwood, among many others.
Clearly, the one overlooked (again) is Dwight Yoakam. I don't know any artists that the others on the list may have influenced, but there is no denying that Dwight influenced a bunch. He is uniquely Dwight. The open secret about the HOF, however, is that it is very Nashville-centric. It's a wonder that Merle Haggard and Buck Owens got in. My prediction is that Yoakam will never be elected, unless the process is radically changed. The cabal simply doesn't want him.
Veteran Era
I like John Anderson; love a couple of his hits. When he was still being played on radio, no one had to hear a song and wonder, "Who's singing that?" Anderson's voice is unmistakable. That said, he only had five number ones. It wasn't so much the quantity, but their ubiquitousness. Who in God's name hasn't heard "Swingin'"? I bought exactly one John Anderson album, just as I purchased one Toby Keith album. That shouldn't be confused with dislike.
The veteran era category is the one most backlogged ~ criminally backlogged. Many, many deserving artists will never be inducted. This era encompasses decades, from the nineteen forties and forward. And let's face it; artists get forgotten.
The list is far too long to enumerate, but here are a few of the eligible artists:
Johnny Paycheck, Johnny Horton, Eddie Rabbitt, Larry Gatlin and The Gatlin Brothers, Lynn Anderson, Gene Watson, Rosanne Cash, Johnny Rodriguez, Gary Stewart, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.
As I said, artists (and apparently history) can be forgotten. From the late sixties to the mid-seventies, there were three female artists who dominated country: Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn, and Lynn Anderson. Look it up. I don't know why Lynn has been overlooked (not saying it's because she began her career in California. Not not saying it's because of this.) Nevertheless, it's tragic that the HOF has swatted her away.
Like Dwight, I don't believe that Lynn Anderson will ever be elected. I can't put my finger on exactly why. I was semi-kidding about the California bit. It certainly can't be that toward the end of her chart-making days, she had veered into pop-country. Plenty of other artists with similar repertoires have made it in. Perhaps if some current star scores a hit with a remake of Rose Garden, similar to how Luke Combs resuscitated Tracy Chapman's legacy, the HOF deciders' memories would be jogged.
(They really need to come up with a better moniker.)
When I hear the name James Burton, I think, "Oh, the Elvis guy." Sure, he was a member of Rick(y) Nelson's, Emmylou Harris's, and John Denver's bands, but other than Emmylou, the others aren't (weren't) exactly bastions of country music.
Hmm, who's that fat off-key singer behind him?
I like this one better:
Again, what will it take to get Don Rich into the hall of fame? As Saving Country Music wrote: "There was arguably never a side player more important to a superstar than Don Rich was to Buck Owens."
Face it, Buck Owens wasn't exactly a powerhouse. He had goofy mannerisms and he claimed credit for songs he didn't write. Still, he was huge, and in large part that was due to Don Rich. Not only a virtuoso guitarist, but an accomplished fiddler, and a harmony singer beyond measure. Does the cabal hold Rich's home base of Bakersfield against him? Hmmm...
Another musician will not be eligible until 2027. I hate to say it, but the inductee won't be Don Rich.
I suppose these announcements hold some modicum of interest. I do at least know who the artists are, as opposed to today. But seriously, hall of fame, you guys need to get your act together.
There was a time when having a strong, distinctive voice made a singer a star. It took more than that, of course. Emotion. A powerful singer made you feel the song. That was Eric Carmen.
Obviously, thousands upon thousands of hit songs have been written on guitar, but Eric was a classically-trained pianist, and there's something more melodic about songs composed on piano. Too, Eric taught himself guitar, and the guitar's dominance is evident in his band's, The Raspberries, million-selling 1972 hit:
2004
1972
But really, Eric Carmen's legacy rests largely on the decade of the eighties. Self-styling himself solely as a songwriter, sorry, but the following songs would not have impacted us the way they did without Eric's soaring tenor.
Not iconic, but still a nice top ten hit:
Though sung by Ann Wilson and Mike Reno in the movie Footloose, this, too, was written by Carmen:
Not a perfect comparison, but Eric Carmen's music was operatic much like Roy Orbison's. There is no disputing his killer songwriting skills, and there is no denying his uniquely superb voice.
Rest in peace, Eric Carmen. Thank you for those eighties memories.
There's much to be said for being a good man. By all accounts Toby Keith was a good man. Imagine an entertainer still being married to his first spouse! Imagine doing eleven overseas USO tours.
It seemed like Toby Keith was always around. His 1993 debut single, "Should've Been A Cowboy", shot straight to number one. All told, he scored 20 number ones and several top tens.
For me, who considers the nineties the best decade in country music, Toby didn't resonate strongly. I thought several of his hits were "fine" and I even purchased his first CD. I preferred his more introspective tracks, like "Wish I Didn't Know Now", and found his bombastic tunes, well....funny. (There's something to be said for funny.) And c'mon, "put a boot in your ass" has gotta evoke a chuckle. I realize "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" was supposed to be serious, but that line...
I SO admire Toby for taking on those bitter wenches previously known as The Dixie Chicks. And he definitely could push their buttons. Androgynous Natalie Maines even wore a "FUTK" t-shirt to an awards show. I bet that really made Toby sob into his pillow.
And the tall tale about Toby and Kris Kristofferson's little spat has since been debunked. Kristofferson is a master songwriter, but if this incident had actually occurred, sorry, I would be on Keith's side.
He also got knocked for playing at Trump's inaugural, as if that was the mortalist of mortal sins. Good on Toby! I bet he reveled in the criticism.
One thing Toby possessed was an ear for catchphrases. "How Do You Like Me Now", "I Wanna Talk About Me", "Who's Your Daddy?"
“I write about life, and I sing about life, and I don’t over-analyze things,” Keith told The Associated Press in 2001.
While there were many artists I would place above him, the fact remains that he was an original and most importantly, a decent guy.
I saw this on X a while back and found it sweet. (His Uber driver had a karaoke machine in his car.):
Toby is going to be sorely missed. Rest in peace, Toby Keith.
