Best Country Albums - Part 2

Since my last post, I've thought about other "Best" albums and wondered if there were any from an era other than the nineteen eighties. I've determined that eras are rather unfair. After all, as I've noted before, country albums were once simply a collection of one or two hit tracks combined with cover songs. I don't know if producers were lazy or they suffered from "we've always done it this way" disease. Most likely it was because country fans bought singles and albums were an afterthought -- a  way to put a pretty cover (in the case of female artists) on the rack and convince shoppers to buy the ninety-eight-cent '45 of "I Don't Wanna Play House". I bought a lot of Greatest Hits albums way back when, because other LP's were disappointing. A few artists pushed back -- mostly artists from Bakersfield. Some Nashville acts, too, transcended the status quo. Not many.

I've thought about how I even knew that certain albums existed at the time, and I realize it was because of WHO radio and Mike Hoyer. Mike was the overnight DJ on WHO in Des Moines, Iowa; and around two a.m. he'd slap an album on his turntable and play it all the way through. Touring acts would also show up in Mike's studio and perform songs live. In the sixties, it was Mike Hoyer and Ralph Emery on WSM who were the keepers of the country flame. And Bill Mack on WBAP in Fort Worth. Those three. That's all. My radio signal rarely caught WSM and I'd lie awake until three a.m. to try to catch WBAP. WHO, though, always came through loud and clear. That's how I knew what was what with real country.

All that said, I've decided to isolate "best" albums by the times in which they were recorded.

The Sixties

Ten years in country music is a long-ass mile. A lot changed in the sixties. Are we talking 1961 and Jimmy Dean or 1969 and Conway and Loretta? The sixties should actually be divided into the almost fifties/early sixties and the Merle Haggard slash Dolly Parton era. Nevertheless, here are some albums that were most likely the "best" of that time.

Here's the only video I could find, but trust me, this album was a cornucopia of superb country (I mean "country") songs:

Burning Memories is definitely a "best". Ray Price's album is one of my very, very favorites. I'm guessing it was released in 1965, smack dab in the middle of the schizophrenic sounds that assaulted our tender ears. Ray's smooth tenor was a soothing balm. And yet it tore at our hearts. I can find no live performances of any of the awesome tracks from this album, but give this a listen:

There was a time when we cheered live albums. Why? Maybe because Nashville sucked the soul out of every song it deemed to record and live albums were real life.

This live album was real:

Merle did impersonations and Bonnie flubbed the lyrics to her song and Merle said, "that's all right".

Merle live:

In the fifties, Patsy Cline and Faron Young and some other country stars performed at Carnegie Hall. That was considered curious. Apparently New Yorkers were too snobbish to listen to country music. Most were and are. That concert was most likely viewed as a novelty; something for the sophisticates to giggle about the next day. I don't know that any live recording exists of that concert. I personally would have loved it -- but I'm from the Midwest, after all.

About ten years later Buck Owens took a chance and showed up at Carnegie Hall with his Buckaroos. It's impossible to understate the importance of Buck Owens to country music in the sixties. There were two competing factions -- the "Nashville Sound", watered down "listen to us -- we're really not country!" and Bakersfield. Bakersfield won. One could argue that if not for Buck Owens, there wouldn't have been a Merle Haggard. It's been posited that Buck stole his songs from unknown songwriters. I don't know the truth. Regardless, Buck Owens' claim to fame is that he created a "sound". Crunchy telecasters, drums not buried; not muffled. Drums keeping the beat as they should, for the two-stepping couples in the honky tonks. Heavy on the steel, thank you. Alcohol and tears go hand in hand, and nothing cries like a steel guitar.

Here is "the sound", from the Carnegie Hall album:

Before I finish out the best of the sixties, here is one album that I would consider a "best".

Lynn Anderson, before she scooted on over to Columbia Records, recorded on a little-known label called Chart. One could argue that the move to Columbia was the best thing that ever happened to Lynn. After all, that's the label on which she recorded Rose Garden. I would postulate that in the move Lynn lost her soul. In the sixties I wished I could sing like Lynn Anderson. She sang like an angel. Her new husband, Glenn Sutton, may have been chart-savvy, but he never brought out the best in Lynn's voice. 

This was her best:

Here is a sampling:

The Seventies

I seriously thought this was a sixties album. Well, it was on the cusp, released in 1970. Country duos began seriously with Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton. They set off a whole seventies trend -- Conway and Loretta, Mel Tillis and Sherry Bryce, Hank Williams, Jr. and Lois Johnson. Suddenly duets were hot.

This duet album was the best:

This album had so many good songs, it's difficult to pick just one. YouTube has made it easy for me, however. There are only a couple of videos available. Here is one:

Ronnie Milsap was a product of the seventies, and he was huge. I saw Ronnie in concert with a couple of other artists I don't remember. That's how he dominated. Take a great singer, add some great country songs, stir in some piano and a whole lot of soul, and you have Ronnie Milsap.

Gary Stewart entered the country scene like a tornado. Who was this guy, and where did he come from? Suddenly he was just there. New country artists were rare. Country music was a continuum. George Jones had "The Race Is On" and then he morphed to "A Good Year for the Roses". Faron Young could never do better than "Hello Walls" and then he found a new producer at Mercury Records and soared, with songs like "Wine Me Up". But they'd always been there. I only vaguely remember the first recording by Merle Haggard, but it seemed he'd always been around. In the seventies new artists, brand-spankin' new, just showed up. All I had available to me was my radio. There was no YouTube or Pandora. Country TV was Hee Haw, if we could stand it. No Nashville Now. No CMT. 

And suddenly there was this guy:

Gary Stewart's story is a sad one. I prefer to remember his music:

Things that should not be forgotten are. It took a guy from New Jersey to remind Nashville what country music was all about. I was so parched for good music in the seventies, it was a revelation to find someone good. Really good. Eddie Rabbitt, like Gary Stewart, died young. But damn! We should not forget either of them. And Eddie? Well, if you love a rainy night or you're driving your life away, thank him.

Rocky Mountain Music was far above anything any country artist released in that seventieth decade.

And there you have it -- the sixties and seventies "best", wrapped up in one lonely blog post.  

I liked seeing Eddie and Gary and Porter and Ray again. Old friends. 

I miss them.

Red Simpson

I was perusing the New York Times website the other day (yes, it's true!) and in the obituaries I saw the name Red Simpson. I thought, well, that's familiar. I vaguely remember seeing that name on lots of yellow and orange Capitol Records 45's back when I was young, stupid, and flush with life.

I didn't exactly know Red Simpson as an artist, but on those records, his name was etched in parentheses right underneath the song titles.

He was a writer. Nevermind the trucking songs, the CB radio tunes, which are a quaint snapshot of a decade most of us would rather forget.

Red Simpson wrote this song, and damn.

You know how much I love Dwight, but here is how I remember this song:

Red also co-wrote this next song with Buck Owens. I'm not going to diss on Buck, but he was known for pilfering tunes, so I'm guessing Red truly wrote this song. I used to hate it -- truly I did -- when Buck and his Buckaroos would show up on my TV screen, and Buck would do his shoulder-shrug. I thought, wow, what a half-assed song! But that might have been my love/hate relationship with Buck Owens. It wasn't exactly Red's fault.



Red was entwined with the Bakersfield Sound. Yes, that was actually a (C) capitalized thing -- Buck, and Merle Haggard (especially).

I figured he at least warranted a tiny bit of recognition -- for all the 45's I spun -- with his name on them.

The 1960's in Country Music ~ When Everything Changed

People may have selective (or rather, "limited") memories about the nineteen sixties in country music.

I was there.

Let me tell you about the 1960's in country music.

First of all, everything EXPLODED.   Sure, it started out quite sedate and unobtrusive.  But even at the beginning of the decade, something was different.  The most obvious difference was that Nashville no longer had a stranglehold on country music.  No, a town called Bakersfield was making itself known, whether Chet Atkins liked it or not.

Nobody (mostly) remembers Wynn Stewart, but I bet Merle remembers him, because, aside from Lefty Frizzell, Merle sounded like no one more than Wynn, who also wrote one of Merle's first hits, "(Sing Me A) Sad Song".

The top hits of 1960 were the somnambulistic, "He'll Have To Go",  by Jim Reeves, of whom I never understood the attraction; frankly;  Even as a five-year-old, I recognized that this song was sort of "icky"; and it disturbed me.  

On the more righteous side, Ferlin Husky had a hit with "Wings of a Dove"..  

And, in a continuation of the nasally-voiced singers of the 1950's, Hank Locklin had a hit with "Please Help Me, I'm Fallin'".

But, frankly, not too many people cared about Jim Reeves, or even Ferlin; and if they recognized Hank Locklin at all, it was only for a minute.

No, it was Bakersfield that the true music lovers latched onto.  And here is Wynn Stewart, starting it all off:





1961 dropped a couple of monstrous hits on us.   

Willie, in essence, sold this song to the highest bidder.  And luckily, Faron Young was the winner of the lottery.

Willie's song was great, but if not for Faron's my-eye-eyen'd , the song would have been rather pedestrian.  Clever, sure.  But not heart-tugging.  Faron did that.



Hank Cochran and Harlan Howard (bow down before them) wrote this next song for Patsy Cline.

I don't know what can be said about Patsy Cline that hasn't already been said.  I say, just watch and listen:



Sure, 1962 may have been the year that Hank Snow created a hit with a song that I, in a fit of utter boredom, memorized the words to:



But let's face it:  1962 was Patsy's year.  

This song, naturally, is at the top of my list of the Twenty Best Country Songs of All Time.  And here's Willie again.  I bet he didn't auction off this song, and if he did, he was a blithering idiot.





1963 was rather ripe with country hits.  There was Ring of Fire, of course; written by June Carter and Merle Travis.  There was Abilene, recorded by a guy who deigned to call himself George Hamilton IV (the first time I learned about Roman numerals).  

There was this, and I dare you to not include it on your top twenty list:



I've decided to throw out my predetermined format and post a bunch of 1963 songs, because, speaking of ripe, 1963 in country music is the essence of ripe.  

Here is Skeeter Davis:



I had absolutely no idea who Ned Miller was; never even saw a picture of him; but my dad loved this song.  I'm guessing Ned was a recluse, which is fine, and completely acceptable to me.  Even if he was in his basement, recording this song on a reel-to-reel tape recorder, that doesn't negate the fact that this was a huge hit in 1963; and mostly, it doesn't negate the fact that Dad loved it:



Dave Dudley had a hit with a song that he had absolutely no idea would become an alt-country lover's guilty pleasure, when re-recorded by Steve Earle in the eighties.  No, Dave was an innocent traveling musician when he did this:



I could go on (and on and on and on) about the year 1963 in country music. I have no idea why everything went BLAM! that year.  But it did.

Be that as it may, 1963, for me, is represented by Bobby Bare (and Mel Tillis) with this (and thank you, my good friend Alice, for teaching me how to play this intro on my guitar):



I'm plum exhausted, and exhilarated, from enumerating just the first four years of the sixties, so I think it's time to take a breather.

1964 will come later (and I'm thinking there will be a whole lot of Buck Owens and a bunch of Loretta Lynn; but who knows?  I may surprise myself.) 

Recalling the nineteen sixties in country music is exhilarating for me.

Maybe you had to be there.

 













 

 


 




 

My Dad Was Pretty Smart About Music

My husband subscribes to Uncut magazine.  The justification for pricing its magazine at $100 a year, apparently, is that the editors include a CD with each issue (still not worth $100; but maybe that's just me).

The latest issue had, slipped into its plastic wrapper, a CD titled, "The Music That Inspired Gram Parsons".

My husband said, "Hey, maybe you might want to listen to this".  (He's not a country music aficionado.)

I'll admit, here and now, that the only thing I know about Gram Parsons is that Emmylou Harris was his girlfriend.  I'm not some country music snob, but I never knew exactly why I needed to get to know G.P. since, it seems, he glommed his style from artists like Buck Owens, and The Byrds, and The Louvin Brothers; and I already knew about their music.

So, tonight, I'm playing the Uncut "Honky Tonk Heroes" CD, which essentially consists of songs I am well familiar with, but since I haven't heard them in ages, it's fun!

The Louvin Brothers, Faron Young, Carl and Pearl Butler, Ray Price, Buck Owens, et al.

The first cut on the CD is "Close Up The Honky Tonks", by Buck (and I will note, importantly, Don Rich; because without Don, that track would never have been so great.  Ever hear Buck sing harmony with himself?  He wasn't that much of a singer.  Don Rich made Buck Owens so much better than he ever would have been).

My dad had the album, Together Again/ My Heart Skips a Beat.  My mom and dad owned two country albums back in 1964.  That one, and Ray Price's Burning Memories.  Mom and Dad didn't have any disposable income back then,

Together Again/My Heart Skips a Beat is the quintessential country album.  One can't get much better than this.  And Burning Memories is pure country soul.

Two country albums.  As tight as their budget was, Mom and Dad still picked two of the very best.

Yup, I have good taste in music.  I inherited it from my dad.

And now, since I'm not about to become one of those crotchety old ladies, I'm going to search out some Gram Parsons.  See what the big deal was all about.

(This isn't exactly how the song went, originally; but you can't find Buck singing this song anywhere on the 'net, so here is my latter-day hero, Dwight):

Categorizing Music

Everybody will tell you....if you're trying to sell your music, you need to tell people what it is.

Because apparently, people will not click on that little ">" sign and listen to a 15-second preview.

I'm being needlessly sarcastic here, because I, too, kind of like to know what I'm getting into before I bother to check out someone's music.  Frankly, and no offense, if the description contains the words "hip" and "hop", I'm really not interested, for example.

But the whole "genre" discussion is very difficult for me.

Somebody on one of those songwriter message boards posted a link to some place where one can upload their music for (paid) download.  Yes, there are a million of these sites, and my problem with them is, the only people who seem to be aware of them are the songwriters/artists; not the general public.

I wasn't particularly interested; just curious.  So, I clicked on the link, and I saw the usual genres listed.  Here is the list:

1.  "Country" music
2.  Pop
3.  Rock
4.  Rhythm & Blues
5.  Blues (just plain, without the "rhythm")
6.  Hip Hop and Rap
7.  Kids music
8.  Modern folk (what is that?)
9.  Easy Listening
10. Electronic
11. Jazz
12. Latin & Calypso
13. Gospel
14. "Other"

If I was actually interested in utilizing this site's services, I wouldn't know which genre to choose!  I can easily rule out 9 of the 14.  And the other 5 are questionable.  I can't ever, ever choose "country", because you know what that is, nowadays.  It's something that assaults one's ears, so I am afraid to even click on anything that says it's "country".

An example of "country" (and I don't mean to pick on Carrie, but I'm not really up on the latest "country" stars):



Pop?  Well, no, because "pop" is something like Michael Jackson or someone, right?

Here's some pop.  I really, honestly, had never heard this song before, but she's in the entertainment rags a lot, so I picked on her.  But seriously, do you find much difference between this song by Katy Perry and the Carrie Underwood song?  I have pretty good ears, I think, and I can discern very little difference:

 

Rock?  Yes, my husband does rock, but again, rock, to him, is apparently different from the rock that is titled, "rock".  It does get confusing, and I think it's a generational issue.

Here is rock:



I don't know what modern folk is, but isn't "modern folk" an oxymoron?  Isn't the whole concept of folk music naturally regressive?  I don't know about you, but when I hear the term, "folk", I think of Peter, Paul and Mary singing, "Michael Row The Boat Ashore" (hallelujah).

Or:



Easy listening could fit the bill, because our music is, not to brag, easy to listen to.  But "easy listening", to me, conjures up something like this:



So, really, that just leaves "other".  And who's going to buy music labeled, "other"?  Nobody.

I tend to label, when I am forced to, our music as "Americana".  But a lot of sites, obviously, do not recognize Americana as a genre.  What is more Americana than two Minnesotans and one Hawaiian, doing their slice of life, or slice of emotions, music?

I really hate labels.  Labels force everyone into a box.  Labels prohibit people from experiencing a range of music.  They think, well, I like Fall Out Boy (yea, seriously, I had to do a Wikipedia search for adult contemporary to even find that name), so I want to hear ONLY songs that sound JUST LIKE THAT.

In my day (as the geezers are wont to say),  we heard everything on the radio.  Everything was played on the same channel.  We heard Dean Martin, and we heard Bobby Gentry, and we heard the Seekers, and we heard the Monkees.  And we made up our own minds.

I am glad (glad!) that I was exposed to a bunch of different music.  I know Frank Sinatra, and I know Count Basie.  I know Buck Owens, and I know the Four Tops.

Music, after all, is music.  One can dissect it, or one can enjoy it.

In everybody's focus on commerce, they forget the basic fact that music, from the first time someone hummed something, or somebody played three notes on a lute, is here to bring joy into our lives.

If music was just here to bore us, or to lull us to dreamland, we could read dull prose.  Something by Al Gore, for instance.

We should stop trying to put it all into neat little boxes, and just experience the joy of music.

And we, in the 1960's, or the 2010's, didn't invent music, you know.  People the world over have loved music since the beginning of time.  I hear that Stephen Foster was quite the dude.  Very prolific.  For example:



And I obviously missed it, but my parents knew good music, too.  



So, categorizations?  I will pass.  I might even like Fall Out Boy if I ever heard them on the radio.

I think I might, just for fun, tune my work radio to some new channel.  Because I would like to practice what I preach.  I bet I will find some stuff that I like, and I otherwise never would have known.

Making Life Simpler

Well, that's rather a misnomer, isn't it? Life is never simple.

I am of a mind, though, that life would be simpler without so much "stuff" to clutter it up.

I'm not certain, but the evidence tells me that, when I was in my twenties, I pretty much saved everything. That was brought home to me recently when my oldest son delivered about six or seven boxes of junk, once belonging to me, that he had been storing in his garage. Yes, junk.

I've been on a remodeling kick of late, so in conjunction with that, I needed to go through those boxes, to see if per chance there might be something I'd actually want.

Well, here's what was in those boxes of "treasures". About 50 picture frames of various sizes (I've always been a sucker for picture frames; don't ask me why); some random photos of people I couldn't pick out of a lineup if my life depended on it; a copy of Life Magazine, "The Year In Pictures, 1986"; three sizes of embroidery hoops, along with a couple packages of unfinished cross-stitch projects; a few of those cheesy CD's ~ you know, "The Best Of...", which were actually re-recordings of songs that you really loved in their original form, but you don't so much love the re-doing of them, twenty years after the fact. A copy of National Geographic from March, 1987; the cover story titled, "North Dakota ~ Tough Times on the Prairie". Guess we can't say that now, can we??

A microphone that I think was part of my reel-to-reel tape recorder, which I haven't a clue where that is, but I would kind of like to have that. A super-8 movie camera and projector. That's cool and all, but what I am really searching for are the actual super-8 films that I shot of my kids when they were little. A movie projector without movies is sort of worthless. I will find those movies; I think they're in the back of our closet somewhere. I'll be transferring those to DVD, just as soon as I can pinpoint their location; I'm thinking in two to three years, at the most.

An instamatic camera inside its very own faux-leather carrying case with the initials CJL pasted on the back of it. AND with a film still inside it! I'm giving that back to my son, and I hope he gets the film developed. That sort of mystery is just the kind of thing that I find ultimately cool.

Some sleeves of baseball cards, all from the Minnesota Twins, circa 1987 (their championship year). I'm sincerely hoping that these belong to my son, because I don't remember being dorky enough to collect baseball cards back then, even though I was sort of a Twins fanatic in those years.

Record albums. A whole lot of record albums. I thought my son had given me all of them awhile back. Apparently not.

That's the one thing that brought a lump to my throat. Why? Well, the thing is, when I was about 16 or 17 years old, I couldn't just buy a record album on my Visa card (cuz, you know, I didn't have one, and frankly, in 1971 - 1972, Visa cards didn't actually exist).

No, I had to save up my pennies to buy an album, and I was only making seventy-five cents an hour, so you do the math.

So, I pretty much wore out those albums. I'd study the covers. In fact, I drew facsimiles of some of them (I was into drawing back then; a hobby I abandoned shortly thereafter).

So, those albums, when I saw them again, brought back a ton of memories for me. They took me back to that room, that component stereo system that I saved and saved to buy. The fact that I couldn't really sing along with the songs on those albums without disturbing whoever might be lodging in the room next door. But I really, really wanted to sing along, so it was a conundrum.

It wasn't even so much the songs on those albums. It was the albums themselves.

So, I thought I would post some pictures of those albums. Just because. The flash sort of obscures some of the pictures, but I still like them. And these, by the way, are Part II. I got the first box of albums awhile back, and I think I will post pictures of those later.

These are some that hold a whole bunch of memories for me..

It seems from these photos that I was a huge Dolly Parton fan. Not necessarily. But it was the late sixties/early seventies, and you couldn't turn around without bumping into Porter and Dolly. Seriously. Porter by himself. Dolly on her own. Porter and Dolly, singing some of Dolly's scribbles. We were all sort of relieved, frankly, in 1973, when Conway and Loretta decided to get together, just for the variety, if nothing else.

It was basically Porter & Dolly, or the Statler Brothers. That was 1970 through 1972, in a nutshell.

I can't explain it, but seeing those album covers kind of stabs at my heart. I guess you had to be there.

So, simplifying my life involves purging superfluous stuff, and stuff that at one time meant something to me, but just doesn't anymore.

The things I have on display in my computer room now are, pictures of family, my dad's AA book and his watch, a letter from my mom, pictures of people and things that hold a special place in my heart, and some funny stuff ~ cartoons ~ because we need to remember that life, and we, are sort of ridiculous.

And what do we need, other than the people we love, and the music we love?

I think that's about it.

Red River Video - TRIPLE SERVICE

I originally did a video for this song, and hated it.

Triple Service was the second song I ever wrote, so it's got that traditional country thing going on, which is okay. What's wrong with that?

When I first began writing, I was heavily into capturing snapshots of my life, and Triple Service is a true story. You can read about it here.

I do also have something to say about being the Keeper of the Stories, but I'll save that for another post.

The first song I wrote was a tribute to my best friend from childhood, who passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. I had never even contemplated writing a song before I wrote that one, and though I had been urged by my husband, I was never inspired...until I got that phone call. Then it all came pouring out.

Anyway, I've talked about that before. My point now is, I think I AM the keeper of the stories, which is a valuable thing. If I don't do it, who will?

If you don't want to read the true story of Triple Service, in a nutshell, it was a place that could never exist today. Because that time is gone and will never return. We're all too jaded now.

It was a time of jukeboxes and three songs for a quarter, and small towns, where everybody knew everybody. And they all got together on a Saturday night to brush off the dust from the fields and kick back with their neighbors, have a beer, and listen to a three-piece country band.

My uncle Howard ran that place, with the help of my mom (Millie) and my aunt Barbara. And my cousins and I lived it, and endured the scorn of the nuns who ran the Catholic school that we attended by day.

I wouldn't trade that experience for anything. I was lucky.

So, being thoroughly dissatisfied with the original video I came up with for this song, I finally hit on the right theme, I think. "Everybody knows and everybody goes".

Here, thence (?) is Triple Service:

Essential Country Albums - The Classics

What are "essential" country albums?

"Essential" means different things to different people. If one is a music critic, the list will include the usual suspects ("Red Headed Stranger", "Will The Circle Be Unbroken", anything by Gram Parsons or Johnny Cash; you get my drift).

If one discovered "country music" in the 21st century, the list would be, well, sad. To generalize. Which I'm famous for doing.

In Part One, I kind of sifted through my music collection and made my choices by "feel". Which isn't actually a bad way to go, because what do we do, if not "feel" music?

And, in Part Deux, I'm going to continue along that path. I could intellectualize the whole thing, but what fun is that? Kind of takes the soul right out of the music, doesn't it, music critics?

In the late hour and in my zeal to create List Number One, I realize now that I made a really big gaffe.

And the big gaffe was this:

Down Every Road - Merle Haggard

This FOUR-DISC set is currently selling for only $35.97 on Amazon. That's only $8.99 per disc! A bargain, to be sure.

One could try to isolate the best of the best of Merle Haggard (another actual CD title) by choosing only one of Merle's albums, but why do that, when you can have basically his entire career, all in one inexpensively priced box set?

If a listener is starting out "new" to country music, this is THE place to start. In fact, it kind of starts and ends with this guy.

Highlights? Well, gee, this set contains ONE HUNDRED Haggard recordings, so let's see.....

We can start with the early days and "Sing Me A Song" or "(I'm a Lonesome) Fugitive" or the classic, "Sing Me Back Home".

We can move on to the middle years, with one of the all-time greatest country songs ever, "(Today) I Started Loving You Again", or "Mama Tried" or "Silver Wings" or "Workin' Man Blues" or "If We Make It Through December" or "Always Wanting You" or "Runnin' Kind", or one of my other personal favorites, "Everybody's Had The Blues".

We can move on to the third portion of the trifecta, with "Footlights" or "Misery and Gin" or "Big City", or the Townes Van Zandt song, "Pancho and Lefty".

You see? It's kinda hard to choose.

So, yes, I'm an idiot for leaving this off Part One. I guess, if you don't buy any of my other recommendations, buy this one, and I'll be thrilled for you.

Waylon Jennings - RCA Country Legends

While only a two-disc set, this is a bargain at any cost. And the cost happens to be $24.98 on Amazon (or $12.49 per disc, my calculator tells me).

The original Nashville Rebel, Waylon, from all I read, could be a bit of a hell-raiser and an overall less-than-nice dude. Doesn't matter. In 1967, Waylon hooked me with Love of the Common People (not included in this two-disc set).

What is included in this set are songs such as, "The Chokin' Kind", "Only Daddy That'll Walk The Line", the beautiful "Yours Love", the equally beautiful "Dreaming My Dreams (With You)", "Brown Eyed Handsome Man", "Rainy Day Woman", and "Good Hearted Woman" (and that's just disc one).

Disc two has the ever-overplayed "Luckenbach, Texas", "Wurlitzer Prize", "Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies...."......well, you know the rest; the lovely "Amanda", Waylon and Jessi's duet version of "Storms Never Last", and, the never to be forgotten, "Theme From The Dukes of Hazzard" (and if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: They keep a'showin' my hands, but not my face on TV.)

Seriously, Waylon ranks right up there in the pantheon. Which is kind of a cool word that one doesn't get to use much in everyday conversation. Yes, the pantheon of country music legends.

Don't leave this one off your shopping list.

Patsy Cline - The Definitive Collection

Yes, girls ALSO sing country music!

One can't really call Patsy Cline a "girl", though. It would be more accurate to call her a "dame".

And, well, wow! Since 1963, when Patsy perished in a tragic plane crash, girl singers have been trying to become "dames" like her, and unfortunately, (in my opinion, of course) only one came even slightly close. But they keep trying!

Beginning with the haunting, "Walkin' After Midnight", and continuing on to the soulful "Leavin' On Your Mind" and "I Fall To Pieces", to the unquestionably top twenty (or is it ten?) of all-time best country songs, written by Willie Nelson, "Crazy", this album will introduce novices to the only queen that country music really ever had.

Don't forget Patsy's version of Bob Wills' "Faded Love" (with that cry at the end) or Don Gibson's "Sweet Dreams".

It's sad that we lost Patsy so prematurely. If she were still alive today, she'd be recording "alternative country" albums, which we would have to find in the bargain bins of our independent records stores; and she wouldn't get any press, of course. But at least those who know would still have that voice.

Storms of Life - Randy Travis

$4.97? Really? For Randy Travis's seminal album? Who could afford NOT to buy it?

Released in 1986, this album was a revelation to those who cherished, but dearly missed, real country music.

Here was a guy who obviously loved country, and who had the pipes to pull it off. Not to mention some classic songs.

"On The Other Hand"? Classic.

How about one of my other top twenty country songs of all time, "1982"? That song alone is worth $4.97 in my book. If you care to read a fan's dissertation regarding the genius of "1982", just go here.

Can't say more. Randy Travis is the real deal.

The Essential Marty Robbins

Some people love him; some people don't get him. I am in the camp of "love him". If you want to read my take on Marty Robbins, click here.

I'll admit; I'm puzzled by those who don't get him, because it seems obvious to me. But tastes are tastes.

Maybe it's because he had such an expansive vocal range. Maybe people are used to the monotoned folks of today. I guess it's all conditioning, isn't it?

But if you think that Marty is irrelevant, check this out:



So, if a now, happenin' guy like Keith Urban can get on board with Marty Robbins' music, maybe you should, too.

Missing from Keith's performance is the classic, groundbreaking, Don't Worry. Groundbreaking? Yea. Marty inadvertently gave birth to the fuzz guitar LONG before the Beatles ever did it.

You be the judge:






The Essential Tammy Wynette

There are a lot of pretenders to Patsy Cline's throne. No one comes very close. Tammy Wynette comes the closest.

Donald Eugene Lytle (aka Johnny Paycheck) wrote Tammy's first hit song, "Apartment #9" (and I love that hatchmark for "number", don't you? Gives it sort of a cache all its own).

Tammy, of course, only went on to bigger and more hit-worthy songs from there. We won't really spend any time on "Stand By Your Man". It is what it is. It was good the first 200 times. After that, I was pretty much over it.

But don't forget "Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad" or "My Elusive Dreams" (with David Houston) or "I Don't Wanna Play House", or another of my top twenty of all time, "'Til I Can Make It On My Own".

Like Patsy, we lost Tammy too soon. Someone may come along one day like Patsy or Tammy. It could happen. I'm just not holding my breath.

Burning Memories - Ray Price

Chet Atkins (God rest his soul) takes a lot of heat, to this day, for the Countrypolitan sound that he made famous.

Sure, sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn't.

Here, it worked.

Maybe it took a class act to pull it off. Ray Price is a class act.

At the age of 83, Ray is still touring, and still sounds good! What the heck more can you ask of someone who's 83?

My mom really loved Ray Price; and I think my parents owned maybe two LP's in the early years. One was by Buck Owens. The other was "Burning Memories". Thus, I pretty much have this album memorized, track order and all. But aside from sentimental reasons, you should listen to this album, if for no other reason, than to hear "Here Comes My Baby Back Again", a song written by Dottie West, and done superbly here by Ray Price.

After my dad passed away, I sat in my room and listened to Ray sing "Soft Rain" over and over. "Soft rain was falling when you said goodbye". Actually, rather than being sad, this is a happy memory for me. I think my dad was there listening with me.

Put this CD on your player and sit back and reflect. Really, there are no clunkers here. Every track is a gem.

Buck Owens - Together Again/My Heart Skips A Beat

Okay, if I'm going to talk about "Burning Memories", I have to also talk about this album.

Where do you think Dwight Yoakam got his mojo? Well, it started here, with this album from 1964.

"Close Up The Honky Tonks" - sorry, but two-steppin' heart-breakin' country music just doesn't get any better than this.

And, of course, there's "Together Again", featuring the timeless steel guitar virtuosity of Tom Brumley.

A couple of relatively unknown tracks that I highly recommend on this album are "Over and Over" and "Getting Used To Losing You".

If you like your country real and raw, check out this album.

Faron Young - Golden Hits

I don't know about you, but I like my country with a shuffle beat and a couple of twin fiddles. Call me crazy.

Faron Young initially made his splash recording for Capitol Records. His early recording years produced songs such as, Alone With You and If You Ain't Lovin' (You Ain't Livin'), later covered by George Strait.

And, of course, there was Hello Walls.

But it was in his Mercury Records years that Faron, to me, really hit his stride.

Classic tracks, such as "Wine Me Up" and "Step Aside" co-mingled with Kris Kristofferson's "Your Time's Comin'". My sentimental favorite here is a song written by Tom T. Hall, called, "If I Ever Fall In Love (With A Honky Tonk Girl)".

And let's not forget, "It's Four In The Morning".

If you've forgotten, or don't even know Faron Young, you're forgetting the history of country music. Faron was relevant in the fifties, and he became even more relevant in the seventies. Faron was a contemporary (and friend) of Hank Williams, and he was a friend to songwriters throughout his many decades of recording.

Classic.

Martina McBride - Timeless

Surprise! An artist NOT from the fifties, sixties, seventies, or even the eighties!

Why did I include this?

Well, because it's TIMELESS.

Martina normally may be kind of boxed into recording songs that will get radio play, but obviously, her heart is with TRUE country music.

Seems to me that this is a real labor of love, because Martina includes many songs here that made my personal list of the twenty all-time best country songs. So, I guess she has good taste! Songs like, "Love's Gonna Live Here" and "'Til I Can Make It On My Own". And she even dusted off that seventies Lynn Anderson chestnut, "Rose Garden", and it actually sounds kinda cool!

My favorites on this album, however, are lesser-known (or more accurately, forgotten) hits, such as "Pick Me Up On Your Way Down" and "I Don't Hurt Anymore".

And she does a killer version of Buddy Holly's "True Love Ways".

If you think you might, sorta, like older country music, but you like it jazzed up a bit with a more modern sound, buy this! You'll get a crash course in country music history, and you will love it!

So, there you go. My list of essential CLASSIC country albums.

I think it's important to not forget. Most of these guys (and gals) are the reason there even IS something called country music (although it would be a stretch to even remotely connect the two now).

But at least we have it on record.

~~~

Essential Country Albums

I find ideas in the strangest places. I went to Amazon, with the sole purpose of leaving a book review, and then I thought, oh, why bother? I thought, what if the author reads it, and her feelings are hurt? What's the point?

Anyway, the page I was on had some discussions about country music, and you know how I like a good country music discussion. One of the questions was:

"What are the first 10 CD's that are a 'must own' for anyone just starting a country music collection?"

The author went on to say that some of the artists he likes are Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, and Waylon Jennings (a pertinent point to include, since country music to me could mean something completely different to someone else).

So, I started thinking about my favorite country music albums.

The problem with country albums, as opposed to rock, is that back in the day, albums were basically a means of promoting the hit single, and the rest of the tracks were afterthoughts (a lot of filler; usually a bunch of cover songs). Sadly.

So, overall, a new country listener would be well advised to go for the "greatest hits" packages.

As time went on, and country was dragged kicking and screaming into the 20th century, some of that began to change, happily.

Thence (thence?) I started to browse through my music collection, and surprisingly, I realized that ten albums is very limiting.

I've got way more than ten that fit the parameters of the author's question. But I'll stop with ten this time, and maybe do a Part Two later.

So, in no particular order, because I'm really too lazy to try to rank them, here's Part One:

The Carnegie Hall Concert - Buck Owens & The Buckaroos

Recorded live, back in the sixties, this album has the joy and the excitement that only a live recording can convey.

You'll hear the best versions of some of Buck's greatest hits, particularly because Don Rich is singing harmony, whereas, in the studio recordings, Buck tended to sing harmony with himself much of the time, and Don Rich adds a real vibrancy to the songs.

You'll get little snippets (medleys) of some of Buck's perhaps lesser-known songs, which will make you want to get the original recordings, just to hear these songs in their entirety. Songs such as, "Don't Let Her Know" and "Excuse Me (I Think I've Got a Heartache)".

Plus, you'll hear a kick-ass version of "Buckaroo".

Love In The Hot Afternoon - Gene Watson

This is the album that introduced us to the voice that is Gene Watson.

While it doesn't include "Farewell Party" (download this as an mp3), this is an album I listened to over and over when it was released in 1975.

I thought, hey, this new guy has quite a voice! And "Love In The Hot Afternoon" is (now) a classic country song. Back then, it was just....new and great.

A couple of my other favorite tracks from this album are, "For The First Time", "This Is My Year For Mexico", and "Where Love Begins".

Country Music - Marty Stuart

Released in 2003, this, to me, is Marty's greatest album. Many prefer "The Pilgrim", but for those who remember real country (see Buck Owens, above), this album is hard to beat.

Marty is a real country music historian, and songs such as, "Sundown In Nashville" remind us of songs we may never have heard, or like me, just plain forgot about.

Stellar tracks include, "Fool For Love", "Here I Am", the silly/endearing "By George", and, of course, "Farmer's Blues", with Merle Haggard. Not to mention, "A Satisfied Mind".

Trust me on this one. You won't go wrong buying this CD. And that mandolin will kill you.

Diamonds and Dirt - Rodney Crowell

This album got robbed of the CMA Album of the Year award in 1988, but what can I say, except this is a joyous album!

I played it over and over......and over and over.

From the opening track, "Crazy Baby", to the modern country classic, "I Couldn't Leave You If I Tried", to Wynn Stewart's "Above and Beyond", to the goofy "She's Crazy For Leavin'", to "It's Such a Small World", with Rosanne Cash, it's essentially good song, good song, good song. No filler here!


Elite Hotel - Emmylou Harris

Another album from 1975. 1975 must have been a pretty good year!

This was my first consciousness of Emmylou Harris. And she was in rare form here. From "'Til I Gain Control Again", written by bandmate Rodney Crowell (see above), to the classics, "Together Again" and "Sweet Dreams", to the jaunty opening track, "Amarillo", to the last track, "Wheels", written by Emmy's mentor Gram Parsons, along with Chris Hillman, this is a classic from start to finish.

This album established Emmylou as the standard bearer of true country music, so it's a no-brainer, really.

Emmy's signature album.

Savin' The Honky Tonk - Mark Chesnutt

A 2004 release that said, hey country music, remember me? Remember country music? In case you forgot, this is what country music sounds like.

Oh, just some steel guitar, some fiddles. Some two-steppin' music. Somebody who's been sadly overlooked, but who, in years to come, will be regarded as somebody who "saved" country music for those who needed savin'.

From the opening track, "Somebody Save The Honky Tonk", to Kevin Fowler's "The Lord Loves The Drinkin' Man" (Kevin did a great recording of his song, but it took Mark to get it to mainstream radio).

Let me just say, "The Lord Loves The Drinkin' Man" is the quintessential country song. I think I heard it a grand total of ONE time on terrestrial radio, in between tracks by Tim McGruff, the crime dog, and Faith Hope Charity, his crime-fighting sidekick.

Lucky for me that I caught this song the ONE TIME it was played, or I never would have found this delicious album.

Easy Come, Easy Go - George Strait
Let me just say, I own ALL of George Strait's albums, so it was hard to pick a favorite. But this release from 1993 has all the elements I look for in a good COUNTRY release.

Number one, it's got not one, but two, songs written by the genius, Jim Lauderdale ~ "Stay Out Of My Arms" and "I Wasn't Fooling Around".

Plus, it's got the old Wayne Kemp (originally recorded by Faron Young) song, "That's Where My Baby Feels At Home".

And, for good measure, it's got a rousing rendition of the George Jones chestnut, "Love Bug".

I like this one because it's one of the most "country" of the country albums that George ever released.

I give it a 95. It's got a good beat; I can dance to it (for you American Bandstand fans).

Highway 101: Greatest Hits

If, for some unknown reason, you are not familiar with Highway 101, then it's time to GET familiar with them!

Where do I begin? With "Somewhere Tonight", written by Rodney Crowell (see above)? With "Whiskey, If You Were A Woman"? With "Cry Cry Cry"? With "Honky Tonk Heart"?

Roll the dice. You can't come up a loser with any of these choices.

Paulette Carlson is the "Stevie Nicks" of country music, with the added benefit that she's COUNTRY. I'll always be a Paulette Carlson fan. Throw in Cactus Moser, Curtis Stone, and Blackjack Daniels, and you've got a combination that can't be equaled in today's market ~ and I'll match Paulette up against Jennifer Nettles any day.

This Time - Dwight Yoakam

Much like George Strait, I own ALL of Dwight Yoakam's albums. Thus, it was difficult to choose the essential Dwight.

I chose this one simply for the fact that it includes two of Dwight's best songs EVER: "Ain't That Lonely Yet" and "A Thousand Miles From Nowhere".

Not to mention the never-to-be-ignored, "Fast As You".

You can pretty much choose any Dwight CD. You can't go wrong with any of them. This one just happens to be one of my favorites.

More Great Dirt: The Best of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Volume 2

Yes, they did Springsteen's"Cadillac Ranch". But they also did "I've Been Lookin'" by the Dirt's own Jeff Hanna, and "Workin' Man (Nowhere To Go)", and another Hanna song, "Down That Road Tonight". Not to mention, of course, the ubiquitous "Fishin' In The Dark", a song that, let me just say, is impossible to dance to.

Chockfull of hits and timeless songs, the Dirt round out my Part One list of essential country albums.


Did I forget anyone? Of course I did.

That's why there's gotta be a Part Two.

~~~