I had a friend and co-worker, Lynnette, who was in love with Clay Walker. I wasn't in love with him (shoot, I didn't even know him!) but I heard a song on my car radio in 1993 as I was pulling into a parking spot at West Acres Mall in Fargo (yea, memory is inexplicable) and I thought I knew the singer, but I actually didn't. (Remember the days when you'd hear a new song on the radio and you'd try to pinpoint the artist, and then it turned out it was someone brand-new? Clay Walker was brand-new.)
I stopped before I turned off the ignition and listened:
There was an exhilaration in his voice that was mesmerizing. I can understand why Lynnette loved him.
Clay's recordings were eternally optimistic and that was refreshing.
This one is a bit different, and I like it almost as much as I like "What's It To You":
Shall we date ourselves?
Clay Walker is still going strong, as evidenced by the news on his site.
I like that we don't just go away; that we keep going. That latest twenty-year-old can't erase us. I was older than Clay when I first him on my car radio and I'm still here.
I'm not impressionistic like Clay Walker was in his heyday, but I like to be reminded that brightness still exists.
I'm beginning to get a bit pissed off about nineties country artists being ignored. It may have begun with Ken Burns' "Country Music" series, which completely overlooked the most iconic artists of a decade when country music was at its best (see: George Strait). For me, country was represented by artists like Tracy Lawrence, Mark Chesnutt, Clint Black, Diamond Rio, Dwight Yoakam, Patty Loveless, Collin Raye, Randy Travis, Travis Tritt, Clay Walker, Restless Heart, Earl Thomas Conley, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Foster and Lloyd, Ricky Van Shelton, Trisha Yearwood, et al.
The nineties was when country and our hearts soared. Even the sad songs made one at least feel alive. I don't know what country's like now; and frankly, from everything I've read, I don't care to know. Country for me was laid to rest somewhere around 1999. I'm told, though, that it's a pallid imitation of the genre formerly known as country.
So for the uninitiated, I'm bringing the nineties back. Mark Chesnutt warranted his own singular post, but let's not overlook the others. In posts to come, I will introduce novices to actual country music and remind those of us in the know of artists who may have slipped our minds.
I'm a big booster of Tracy Lawrence, as described here.
In case you've forgotten or never knew, watch these:
Yep, I'm bringing nineties country back. Stay tuned.
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.
I was bored today, and there was nothing good on TV. I'd already checked out the On Demand movies, and the choices were slim. I watched American Graffiti last weekend, and I made the mistake of watching Bewitched last weekend also. That was the most boring movie I've ever seen. I fell asleep during part of it. Don't ever watch it or rent it, or God forbid, buy it. So today, all I was left with was Night Of The Living Dead, and I really wasn't in the mood.
So, I went back to my computer, but I turned on GAC in the background. The first song I heard was something that Rascal Flatts was YELLING. Something about wanting a girl to take him somewhere, but geez, with all that yelling, I would have just pushed him out of the car.
Then there was some nondescript noise that I didn't really pay attention to.
And then there was a guy singing to his wife, I guess, about (basically) it's okay to stop taking care of everyone else and take care of herself once in awhile....or some sappy sentiment like that. I was thinking, gee, that sounds like Clay Walker. I used to like Clay Walker. He was big in the '90's, but kind of dropped out of sight for a few years. So, I turned around and looked at the screen, and sure enough, it was Clay Walker. He should be ashamed of himself. He used to sing some good songs. But I guess, if he's trying to rebuild his career, he has to do the kind of songs that are popular nowadays......sad and lame as they are.
Then they interjected an older song by Faith Hill, "Mississippi Girl". You know, the one where she was trying to convince everyone that, even though she went to Hollywood and made a movie, and even though she sings songs that even Celine Dion wouldn't stoop to, that, c'mon, she's still country.
As if fans who listen to country radio even care. Those people are used to country-pap (I mean "pop") songs, so they don't care.
Then they played something by, I think, Blake Shelton, that wasn't half bad. It was a clever, funny song. The hook is, "the more I drink, the more I drink". Hold on....gotta look up who wrote that song.....well, can't find any info. The sites I found intimate that Blake himself wrote the song, but I can't be sure.
But anyway, after that, there was a Kenny Chesney song about "shift work", although that's not what it sounded like he said, but maybe that was intentional. I wasn't paying real close attention, but it seemed to me that he was showing empathy for people who do "shi(f)t" work, but then they showed him on the beach, drinking those concoctions that have little umbrellas, so I don't know if he was empathizing or making fun of people who have to work for a living.
Then I FINALLY heard the most COUNTRY song of my little experiment. Ironic, really.
