Revisitations

During these, the dog days of summer

If the dog days are at the end of summer, what kind of days are at the beginning?

During these, the cat days of summer, when my songwriting inspiration is at a low ebb, I've been thinking about revisiting some of my older songs.

Sure, I've said in the past that songs are "either there or they're not". And I'm not arguing with myself (or am I?) I do argue with myself quite frequently, but that's, thankfully, only in my head, and not out loud. If I argued with myself out loud, that would be grounds for involuntary confinement, and I, frankly, get enough involuntary confinement 40 hours a week.

So, I've digressed once again.

What I started to say was, yes, I have said that songs are either there or they're not, but by revisiting old songs, I'm talking about finished songs. Ones that I did think were "there" when I wrote them.

Normally, I shudder at the thought of going back to a song that's finished. First of all, the inspiration that was there then, is really not here now. It's like, okay, let's say, typing a long email to a friend (I was going to say writing a letter, but HA! Who does that anymore?) And getting interrupted in the middle of typing, and for whatever reason, not being able to get back to it for a week (of course, you have saved a draft, because you are not a moron).

You were really on a roll there; shooting the breeze about all the quirky things that happened to you on your recent vacation. You started to share a really funny anecdote about the mix-up with your hotel reservations, and all the hilarity that ensued, and then.....oh oh......power outage! (Luckily, your email provider saved a draft of the email, because Yahoo is not a moron).

So, after a week of ditching spoiled food from your refrigerator, and washing two tons of dirty laundry, you finally get back to that email you started.

And you read what you wrote, and awkwardly add, "...and then we got our room, and we went in and put our bags down, and it was fine".

You kind of lost your mojo there, eh?

Well, that's how the human mind works. We have short attention spans, and even shorter creative attention spans. I've walked through the door of my workplace in the morning, thinking, I've got to remember to do _______. Oh, I'd better write that down as soon as I get to my desk, because I know me; I'll forget to do it. Well, whaddaya know? I forget to even write it down! And that's after walking approximately 20 steps from the door to my desk. Our minds are crammed with so much "stuff", it's like our brain cells are having a pillow fight.

And it's even worse when those brain cells get interrupted. Something that seemed so engrossing at the time, now, we're thinking, eh. Really? I actually found this interesting?

Thus, returning to a song I wrote in October of 2010 just doesn't have the cache that's required to pique my interest.

That said (and here I go, arguing with myself again), it's better than wasting my time trying to find six more lines to go with the already written six lines of my latest song that will probably actually never be a song, because it's so woefully uninspired that my cat took one look at the lyrics on my screen and promptly fell into a deep snooze (and Bob is preternaturally fascinated by anything having to do with computers, especially printers spewing out mysterious paper sheets).

The reason the Summer of '67 (the October-written song) sprang to mind is, (a) I like the sentiment....a lot; and (b) it's all true, and it happened to me!; and (c) well, I wrote the words in a way that really show the story (you know that old axiom; "show, not tell". I really hate old axioms, because they're boring and repetitious).

I remember the night that I wrote it. I was feeling pretty sentimental about my best childhood friend, Alice. I think I had just written another song about her (yea, I've written at least five songs about her, I believe). And I got to thinking about the times we'd shared, especially in the summer, when we were really just kids (which basically encompasses the whole time I spent with Alice, because we did grow up together, before our lives diverged).

Anyone who's lost someone knows that there's a big hole in your heart, but more than that, especially if that person is someone you grew up with, anytime you think about experiences, funny or poignant or anything, really, that suddenly leaps into your mind, and you wanna say, "Remember the time...?", and that person is no longer even in this world, it's like your memories don't quite mean as much, because nobody is here who understands, who relates to, or can even fathom what you're babbling about. And I think it's even more difficult if those memories are from the time you were growing up, because studies will tell you (invent your own link here to some relevant scientific study), those experiences are the most vivid of any you will ever have in your life, and they are the ones that shape you, to a large extent, as a person.

I find, though, in light of the fact that I don't have anyone to share those memories with, that if I write them in the form of a song, they kind of become universal. They become real; not just to me, you know?

The problem I always had with "Summer of '67" was that it was, for all intents and purposes, really a narrative. I tried to come up with a chorus, to break things up, but it seemed forced and not true to the story. That always bugged me.

Maybe it is what it is. A guy named Kristofferson wrote some songs that were really just (and I don't mean "just") narratives. For example, okay, this one does have a chorus, but it's really similar to the verses. There's not much differentiation (and yet, I really like this song. Chalk it up to the fact that Faron Young, to me, was one of the best country singers of all time, plus I am a Kristofferson believer).



And, of course, this one:



I guess if you can write lines like those in Sunday Morning Comin' Down, then choruses be damned (and yes, I know there is a chorus in this song. It's just that it doesn't really, in actuality, create a whole lot of diversity within the song itself). My song isn't anywhere near this one, and in fact, if anyone was to say it was, their body would spontaneously burst into flames, and they would be committed to the same institution in which I have been incarcerated (and fare warning, I do snore).

Thus, I do need a decent chorus.

Why bother? Well, I like the song, and it has meaning for me. Nobody in the world is going to care, because of the two people in the world who would, I'm the only one left. So, I care.

I'm only sharing the link to demonstrate that the song isn't finished. It needs work.

If you weren't there, you couldn't even know. I, however, want to know. And I want to write a song that's worthy of me knowing.

Songs That Just Never Go Away

I was sitting in the dentist chair yesterday afternoon, and those places are always tuned to the most innocuous radio stations, since sitting in the dentist chair is stressful enough; one does not need to be subjected to aggravating music, besides.

So, they've got the oldies station blaring away, which I like. And the hygienest's got that cavitron buzzing, and I'm just thinking, will this be over soon?

When what, pray tell, comes on the radio, but this:



Watching Van's discomfort while lip-synching this song is much like the discomfort I feel whenever I hear this song.

Granted, this was a good song at one time. But you know what they say about familiarity breeding contempt? Well, there you go.

It's funny how with some songs, one could hear them a million times and still enjoy them. Other songs just don't wear that well.

By way of contrast, I could hear this (awkwardly lip-synched) song over and over and over, and I would still get a little thrill every time:



So, what is it? The melody? I say yes. Some melodies are "decent"; some are timeless.

This proves my oft-repeated opinion that melodies are what counts.

Because, frankly, the subject manner of both "Brown-Eyed Girl" and "Don't Worry, Baby" are basically the same. Just little bits of fluff.

Thus, my little songwriting lesson of the day, because there really should be a point to this post, other than just posting videos of songs that I'm really sick of (although that does make me feel better).

So, seeing as how I'm old, and I remember stuff from back in the gramophone days (seriously, I don't), these are some of the songs that, in my opinion, just got overplayed ad nauseum on the radio, back when people used to listen to the radio. And if I hear these songs today, after lo these many years, I'm still sick to death of them.



In this particular performance, the tempo is sped up from that on the record, which is a good thing, because the song gets over sooner.

Even "moderned up", while the performance is nice, the song is still sickening. Sorry, Joe South.



Remember this? 1968? Most played to death song of the year. I like Tom T. Hall; he wrote a lot of good songs, but....



Okay, yea, Johnny Cash is a legend and all that. I'll grant you that, but this song isn't even that good! And it's so repetitive. If you overlook the fact that you're viewing a performance by one of country music's icons, you will admit that this song is just tiresome:



Even as a non-songwriter in 1972, I realized how bad these lyrics were. And I was sort of offended by the inanity. But the radio station just kept playing it!



Let's see if I've got this right: "Skippity doo-dah, thank you, Lord, for makin' him for me"......"I'll fix your lunch if you fix mine".....

No offense, Donna Fargo. I understand you're a really nice person. But back then, I was cleaning motel rooms for spending money, carrying my portable radio with me, and I had to keep hearing this whole skippity doo-dah nonsense, and it made me irate. It was bad enough just cleaning those rooms. I was seventeen, it was hot, and I just wanted to be lying out by the pool, and not getting up at 7:00 a.m. every day in June to clean toilets.

Fast forward to the eighties (all decades should be well represented). I was searching for this video, and I found some comments to the effect of, "thanks so much for the memories". Well, yea, I have memories of this song, too. Memories of every freakin' time I got in the car to drive somewhere, I had to be subjected to this song. "Uh-huh":



I've mentioned this song before, but it just has to be included here. Back in the sixties (I'm told), there was a big counter-culture drug thing going on. And it makes sense when one listens to this song. I'm imagining Hoyt Axton scribbling these lines on a napkin, and somebody saying, "that's heavy, man", when in reality, it's obviously complete nonsense.

Unfortunately for us (the listeners), and fortunately for Hoyt Axton, this song achieved heavy rotation on the rock stations. But anytime I hear the words, "Jeremiah was a bullfrog", I just have to punch that button to change the channel.



So, there you have it. Some of my least favorite, albeit, overplayed songs of the millennium.

I didn't include my all-time least favorite song, because, thankfully, it hasn't really been overplayed. But readers of my blog know what that is.

I would be interested in knowing what your most overplayed song is. Feel free to leave me a comment and let me know.

Just To Prove My Point About Critics

If you go back and read the two posts before this one, I listed a gaggle of what I consider to be "essential" country albums.

Well, it seems that good old EW decided to follow my lead! Hey, I love Entertainment Weekly, so I'm just happy that they decided to do a list at all.

25 Country Albums You Need To Hear (Even If You Hate Country Music)

EW is heavy on the more modern albums, but I was pleasantly surprised by some of their choices.

But remember when I wrote this?

"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).

Well, here you go......highlights from their list.....


Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison

Critics love this album. But, I don't know. I guess if you were actually around in 1968, it may have long ago lost its cache.

I like Johnny Cash. But, to critics, he holds some kind of "original outlaw" status.

I'm not all that concerned with image. I just like good music.

I didn't include this on my essential albums list, and I still stand by that. I will say, however, that anyone just learning to play guitar should just sit and strum/pick along with "Folsom Prison Blues". You'll sound like a virtuoso to yourself in no time.

Home - Dixie Chicks

Well, "Fly" was far superior.

Critics like this album because this was released around the time that the DC just started becoming "political".

Props to "Traveling Soldier". Buy the mp3 single; skip the album.

Unless you really feel like contributing to their "cause". Whatever that may be.



Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc., Etc.

No quibbles here. This was Dwight's first album, and it's got
a couple of Dwight classics.

I, however, would recommend one of the greatest hits packages or one of a number of other superior offerings.

Pick any one of them. You can't really go wrong.





Loretta Lynn - Van Lear Rose

The reason critics like this one is because Jack White produced it.

I bought it. I played it one time.

Pretty picture, though, huh?







Willie Nelson - Red Headed Stranger

The reason critics like Willie Nelson is that he plays and records with pretty much everyone in the world. I have a shoebox sitting here that Willie will be recording his next album with. Looking forward to it!

This album does have "Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain", so that's a plus. It's a stark recording. I just like a little more instrumentation on the songs I listen to. I do like Willie, though. Just kinda wish he was a little more discerning about who/what he records with. But that's Willie.

Buck Owens - Carnegie Hall Concert

Already mentioned it. In fact, it was the first album I listed.

Nice of EW to follow my lead, though.










(EW then listed a bunch of modern-day stuff that you can or cannot buy. Whatever. It's your dollar.)

Gram Parsons - The Complete Reprise Sessions

I'm not overly knowledgeable about Gram Parsons. I basically know him as Emmylou's mentor.

That said, I appreciate his love and respect for older country music.

The reason that critics flock to his music is that he died young. Much like Jim Morrison.

Guys that write EW articles aren't exactly sitting back, grooving to classic country music. But I do give them credit for trying to appear relevant!


Dolly Parton - Coat of Many Colors

Weird thing about me and Dolly: I like Dolly; I just don't like like like Dolly.

It's hard to explain. While I definitely appreciate her enormous talent, and while I really loved her duets with Porter, I can't actually sit and listen to a whole album of Dolly at one sitting. I guess a little Dolly goes a long way for me.

Why do critics choose one of her albums? Because she crossed over. She recorded with Kenny Rogers, with that godawful, yet catchy! Barry Gibb song, Islands In The Stream. She starred in Nine To Five. You just know the critics aren't cranking up the far superior, Tomorrow Is Forever.

Emmylou Harris - Elite Hotel

Yea, I beat 'em to it again. But compliments from me on their good taste!

I already said that this is Emmylou's finest album. If you don't own it, you really should.







Robbie Fulks - Georgia Hard

Robbie Fulks = Alt Country.

Alt Country = Country That Used To Be Country, But Is Now Too COUNTRY To Be Called Country.

Is that clear? Cuz it seems kind of nonsensical, but that's just the way it is.

I don't actually own this album, but I own a bunch of Robbie Fulks CD's. I think I might have to get this one.

Critics like Robbie Fulks because he's "alt". I like him because he likes country music. And he's unique.

Listen to Tears Only Run One Way. That sounds like country to me. Do you think maybe Rodney Crowell was influenced by Robbie? I think that's a pretty safe bet.



Hank Williams - Gold

The only reason I didn't include Hank Williams on my lists is because it seems like kind of a no-brainer.

I mean, isn't it just assumed that Hank Williams would be included among the essential country albums?

Just listen to this, and it tells you all you really need to know about country music.


Hag: The Best of Merle Haggard

Okay, if you want to do Merle Haggard on the cheap.

I still say, buy Down Every Road. It's a tremendous bargain. Especially for the successor to Hank's throne.








Shania Twain - Come On Over

Agreed. This is Shania's best album.

When this album was released in 1997, we music fans were supposed to feel stupid for liking it. Poppycock.

This albums stands up. I don't care if you think it's poppy schlock or really, what you think of it. It's good.

I got up, like a drunken fool, with my best friend, at another friend's wedding dance, and sang this song. I had morning-after regret, but you know, it's a really good song! Recorded with Bryan White, I think it's actually the perfect wedding song!


Steve Earle - Guitar Town

It's not that I meant to exclude this album. I just sort of forgot.

Step inside any honky tonk in the nineties, and you would hear the driving strains of Guitar Town, not to mention Hillbilly Highway. All that's missing here is Copperhead Road.

Sadly, Steve Earle pretty much had one great album. He's recorded a lot of them, but I guess one shouldn't peak too soon. It kind of makes everything else you do sound like second best.

Guitar Town has some of the most clever and catchy lines ever written in a country song. It makes songwriters strive to capture that fairy dust. Alas, it's not easy.


Vince Gill - These Days

Okay, I'll admit it. I don't own this album. I know that's it's purported to be Vince's best, and a four-disc set, to boot.

Is this worth purchasing? Let me know.

What track should I listen to from this set, to make me want to buy it?

I'm a Vince Gill fan; don't get me wrong. I just sort of stopped listening to country a few (okay, five) years before this album was released, so I missed it.

I have no doubt, however, that it's as great as all the critics say it is.


Almost Blue - Elvis Costello

Why do critics like it? Well, it's a rock star doing country music.

It's sort of, you know, like how the critics latched on to country music when Keith Richards recorded a country album. It's the unexpected.

Critics don't really give a hoot about country music until one of their icons tells them that country music is cool. Then they'll listen. I'm waiting for Springsteen to record his country album. Oh, and it's coming. Trust me.

I have this album. I'm not one of those Costello worshipers. But I do appreciate what he did here. And if Elvis can get folks (like critics) to listen to country, then God bless Elvis Costello.


Raising Sand - Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

This is one of my favorite albums ever!

I didn't exclude it from my list on purpose. I just didn't know that it was a country album!

Killing The Blues is one of my favorite songs from this LP (LP - how much does that date me?)

And, of course, Gone Gone Gone.

Why do critics like this? Well, a critic would have to be a real dunce not to like Alison Krauss. But aside from that, well, it's Robert Plant, after all. Led Zeppelin?

The juxtaposition between Robert Plant doing Robert Plant-like stuff, and Robert Plant doing T Bone Burnett stuff just boggles the critics' minds.

T Bone really deserves the credit here. Sure, if you, as a producer, have two stellar voices to work with, it might seem easy. But it's the production that really cinches the deal.

After all, before he even imagined pairing Alison and Plant, he hooked us with this song, ably lip-synched by George Clooney in the Coen (Minnesota!) Brothers movie, O Brother, Where Art Thou?

So, yes, I skipped a bunch of EW's recommendations. I really had no comments to make on some of them, since I couldn't really tell you if they're good, not so good, terrible, or pathetic. (I will say, for the record, however, that I do consider Big & Rich to fall into the "pathetic" column.)

My EW grade? Cuz, you know, if you read Entertainment Weekly, the critics love to give a grade to everything they review.

Actually: B+

Nice effort, for someone who is (I assume) playing catch up with country music. Whoever you are, writer, you've done an admirable job.

Those remedial courses are working out nicely!

~~~

CMA Awards - Welcome To The Eighties! - 1980

Here we go! We've made it to the eighties! I'm excited! Can't you tell from all the exclamation points!!

I'm just excited to have made it all the way through the seventies, and now on to a new decade! I'm predicting BIG THINGS for the eighties! A whole regime change, if you will. I sure hope that's true.

Realistically, however, progress came slowly back then to the world of country music. Country wasn't quick to just shove people aside (like they do now). Good grief, when you look at the country music world of today, good old George Strait must be the most stubborn man alive, cuz try as they might, they just can't push him off the cliff.

So, in 1980, we've got some holdovers from previous years.

The INSTRUMENTAL GROUP OF THE YEAR was the Charlie Daniels Band. Here's a 1980'ish song:



I think this song was inspired by Ronald Reagan's election. I could be wrong. But Charlie's a big conservative supporter, so I think I'm right.

The INSTRUMENTALIST OF THE YEAR was (again!) Roy Clark. And the VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR were the Statler Brothers. Ahhh, the more things change, the more they stay the same. It might have been a new decade, but it was still the same old Roy and Harold, Don, Phil, and Lew.

As you know if you've read any of my 1970's CMA posts, my video options for the Statler Brothers are kind of running dry. But here's one I found that begins with a song by Johnny Cash, with the Statlers singing backup. Then the boys step out front to do "Bed Of Roses".



And, as you heard, Johnny really loves Scandinavia!

VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR was a bit of a surprise. Of course, this category had long been dominated by male/female pairings, but 1980 brought something different. A male/male pairing: Moe Bandy and Joe Stampley. Yes, that's right.

This video is of supremely bad quality, but, believe me, it's the best that I could find:



Alas, but a moment in time. A snapshot, if you will. But it still marked a most unusual win; one that could only happen in the year that was; 1980. Two "good old boys", never to be heard from again, but here they were. And they still have that oddly-shaped statuette on their mantles, even to this day.

The ALBUM OF THE YEAR was also sort of an anomaly. It was a soundtrack, with a bunch of Hollywood types, singing the songs of Lorett-y Lynn and Patsy Cline, among others. A soundtrack from, as I recall, the biggest movie of 1980, "Coal Miner's Daughter".

I used to have HBO. And if you know HBO like I know HBO, you know that they repeat movies endlessly and relentlessly. So, back in the day, I think I saw the movie, "Coal Miner's Daughter", approximately 192 times. I can, to this day, quote lines from that movie. I also had a huge crush on Tommy Lee Jones. Course, Tommy's old now (who isn't?), but back then, he was a hunk.

Here (in case you've forgotten) are some scenes from "Coal Miner's Daughter" ("Put the backdrop back on the bed, darlin'.")





FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR was a pleasant surprise: Emmylou Harris.

Emmylou got me into country albums. From Elite Hotel to Luxury Liner to Quarter Moon In A Ten Cent Town, Emmylou's albums were great! And she had a bunch of future legends in her band - like Vince Gill and Rodney Crowell.



You know we always leave Entertainer of the Year 'til last, so let's have a grouping of awards, shall we? Ol' Possum Jones got his act together around this time, and I'm sure we can agree that it paid off big time for him! Some say that this is the best country song of all time. I disagree, but I still think it's a good one, and look what came of it:

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR - George Jones

SINGLE OF THE YEAR - He Stopped Loving Her Today

SONG OF THE YEAR - written by Bobby Braddock and Curly Putman



ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR

Barbara Mandrell
Yes, Barbara won! Another opportunity to get up on stage and give a long......long acceptance speech! As we shall see in future retrospectives, Barbara climbed up on the Ryman stage many, many times to accept many, many awards. And she gave many, many long, rambling acceptance speeches. Sometimes they even ran out of time for the rest of the awards! (okay, I made up that part).
Don't get me wrong. I like Barbara Mandrell. But she did really become full of herself......really quickly. It got to the point, when I was watching the CMA's, when her name would be announced, I would mutter, "oh, for pete's sake", and then wander into the kitchen to make a snack, and when I came back, she was still talking.
But kudos anyway, Barbara, on the first (okay, second) of your many, many awards. Here's a song that I always liked:


HALL OF FAME

Connie B. Gay
Connie B. Gay was a guy - don't let the name fool you. Odd name for a guy, but it maybe stood for Constantine? Mr. Gay was a music executive, and in fact, one of the first people to use the term "country music", as opposed to "hillbilly".
I vote for going back to calling it "hillbilly music". That would clear out some of the riff-raff. Cuz no self-respecting Carrie or Taylor or Tim or Kenny would stoop to calling themselves hillbillies. So, that'd only leave the ones who didn't mind (the good ones).

But, back to Connie B. Gay. He was part of the music scene in Washington, D.C. And he discovered and represented hillbillies - I mean "country artists" such as Jimmy Dean.

Here's a rare find. A clip from the Jimmy Dean Show, with Jimmy stepping in for Don Rich, and singing with Buck Owens and his Buckaroos.


Mr. Gay was also the founding president of the Country Music Association, so I guess if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't even be writing all these dang posts! Thanks, Mr. Gay!

THE SONS OF THE PIONEERS
I think the Sons of the Pioneers are cool. Can't you just picture the cowboys out on the range, rounding up those doggies, yodeling away to their heart's content; something like this:


You'll notice our entertainer of the year is right in there; right in the mix; talking, talking, talking; but finally there's another tune from the Sons, featuring Roy Rogers.

JOHNNY CASH
Well, I notice Johnny got in there rather quickly! Took the Country Music Association a bit longer to recognize some earlier pioneers - Faron Young, for example. In fact, that took until the year 2000! But let's not quibble. Johnny deserved to be in the Hall of Fame, and here's a medley of some of his songs (including one of my favorites, "I Still Miss Someone"):




So, there you go. A new decade. A fresh start. One classic country song. One classic movie. A novelty act named duo of the year. A long-winded entertainer. There's a little here for everyone!

I think this is going to be an interesting decade!

The CMA Awards - 1970 - At Last! - Something I Can Get Behind!

The 1970 CMA awards, I believe, marked a turning point in country music.

Why? Well, I got nothin' against Johnny Cash, and he's held up by many as the ultimate bright shiny symbol of country music, but let's face it, he's no Merle Haggard.

Let's just start this thing off right, shall we? With the:

SINGLE OF THE YEAR

ALBUM OF THE YEAR

Merle Haggard - Okie From Muscogee



Now, it took me almost 40 years to realize that this song was meant to be ironic. Maybe it was the delivery. He certainly presented it with a straight face. How were we supposed to know? I wasn't totally on board with the sentiments that Merle expressed here, although, speaking of irony, I am more on board with them now. Even though he, apparently, had the last laugh.

And, you know, I don't even really give a damn if he was making fun of us, or if he meant what he said at the time.

Yes, I know (now) that Merle is more a liberal than a conservative. But, you know, one can overlook the shortcomings of loved ones, and I love Merle Haggard.

You see, Merle and I go back a long time. Of course, Merle doesn't know this, and he probably wouldn't care. But, aside from Buck Owens, who was of another time, a time of my parents, Merle is the one person who made me love country music. The one who's allowed me to stick with it; to acknowledge that maybe all music doesn't suck. The one who has shown me that one can write about stuff that means something, and prevailing winds be damned, we're gonna write it anyway, because it's honest.

So, if Merle was just playing with us, and making us think one way, when he was leaning the opposite way, well, it's the one transgression in music that I will forgive. Cuz all I have to do is click on "Silver Wings" or "Sing Me Back Home", and all that political stuff goes out the window.

I guess it's the way that some people feel about Dylan. Merle is my Dylan. Merle is country music's Dylan.

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Merle Haggard

Along with "Okie From Muscogee", Merle had some major hits leading up to the 1970 award season, including "Workin' Man Blues" and "Mama's Hungry Eyes", both recorded in 1969. Alas, couldn't find 'em on YouTube. So, let's go with this one, recorded in 1968, which is a sentimental favorite of mine.



You gotta feel bad for Merle, stuck on the fake front porch, in front of the lace-curtained window, singing about how he got life without parole. Now, I don't know what prison this is, but it's pretty nice! Each inmate has their own little cottage! If this is prison, sign me up! I don't know what they're bitchin' about. "Mama" probably drops by every week or so, to cook up some fried chicken and mashed potatoes. That's better than I eat! Better than my bowl of corn flakes and dry toast.

So, we've actually learned something here. Prison's not so bad. Thanks, Merle.

SONG OF THE YEAR

Sunday Morning Coming Down - recorded by Johnny Cash, written by Kris Kristofferson



I like this version a lot. Kris'll be the first to admit that he's not the world's best singer, but he was in pretty good form here. He even handled the harmony parts quite nicely. It's always a treat, I think, to hear the writer sing his own songs, plus this version has a little more "get up and go" than the original recording. I think the original kind of dragged a bit, in comparison.

I wonder if Kris is still writing songs. Of course, he'd have to release them himself, considering that they don't have bridges and all the bells and whistles (which is basically, what you hear on recordings lately - a bunch of bells, a bunch of whistles). And, you know, his songs just wouldn't cut it nowadays. Too simple. They say too much. And they're not "ME-centric". I hate to break it to Kris, but that's the way the old ball bounces.

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Tammy Wynette (again)

Obviously, from perusing the pages upon pages of videos that fans have posted of Tammy, she is held in very high esteem. One note, though.....she did record other songs besides "Stand By Your Man". I mean, c'mon. I wonder if Tammy's up in heaven, wondering, "Is this the only song they remember me for? You know, I did have others. I think I'll just go back down there and set the record straight."

So, I couldn't find embeddable videos of any songs that helped Tammy win this award (again) in 1970, such as "Singing My Song" or "I'll See Him Through". So, since I've posted a bunch of Tammy videos already, I'm going to go with a recording from 1966, "Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad" (If you keep winning, Tammy, I'm afraid I'm going to run out of choices.)



VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR

Porter Wagoner & Dolly Parton

1970 was the first year that the CMA decided that two people do not make a "group", and therefore, they created the vocal duo category. A spin-off, shall we say. Porter & Dolly were previously the vocal "group" of the year, so now, in 1970, they have been downsized.

This single was released in 1969, so again, this probably put them over the top for the 1970 awards season:


Nice performance, on the old Porter Wagoner Show, or, as his guitar strap indicates, the "Goner" Show. I wonder if anyone looked back at the tape later and said, "Hey Porter, you might want to adjust that strap. Do you really want people referring to you as a 'goner'?" I do also wish that Porter & Dolly had coordinated their outfits better beforehand. Porter's green and yellow kind of clash with Dolly's powder blue. But that's sort of nitpicky, I guess.

VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR

Tompall & The Glaser Brothers
I don't blame you if you don't remember these guys. They definitely had their time, and that time was the early seventies. But they actually were around a lot earlier than that; apparently starting in the 1950's. As brothers do, these three guys had great harmonies. I don't think they had a lot of chart success, however. I do remember a recording they did of the Bob Wills song, "Faded Love", and I liked their version. "Tompall" is an unusual name, though, don't you think? I wonder if his parents quibbled over what to name their firstborn. "Tom!", Daddy said. "No, I like Paul!", Mama retorted. It was only after a 19-hour labor that Mom & Dad finally came to a consensus. And thus, "Tompall" came into the world.

Tompall, you may recall, was featured on the hit "Outlaws" album, along with Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings. The fact is, none of the three even knew that this album had been created. The producer slapped a bunch of tunes on an album and released it as "Wanted: The Outlaws". I bet Tompall didn't even know that he was an outlaw. But he reaped the benefits of the album's unexpected success.

Here's the only representation I could find of the group, and this is not a 1970 performance, but rather from 1985. And sadly, there's a fake Jim Glaser singing here, and I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this, but I have no idea what that might be.



INSTRUMENTALIST OF THE YEAR

Jerry Reed

Here's a "guitar duet", you might say, featuring Chet Atkins and Jerry Reed. I guess Chet is passing the torch (or the guitar pick), since Chet had owned this award in years prior.

I think they were both really good musicians. I say "I think", because what do I know? It all sounds really good to me, but I'm certainly no guitar connoisseur. I can barely hold a pick without dropping it inside the guitar hole (is that the technical term?) and then I have to hold the guitar upside-down and shake it to get the pick out, because I only own one pick.

So, take it from me, these guys are WAY better guitar players than me. God rest your soul, Jerry Reed.......and Chet.



INSTRUMENTAL GROUP OF THE YEAR

Danny Davis and the Nashville Brass

As you know from my previous post, there are no videos available for Danny and his Brass, but I liked them, and there were a bunch of guys in this group, so they had to split the earnings several ways, which kept them relatively poor over the years, except for Danny, I'm sure, who got a bigger share of the pot.

COMEDIAN OF THE YEAR

Roy Clark

Thankfully, 1970 was the last year that this award was given out. And really, by then (after only four years), they were scraping to come up with a winner (not to mention five nominees).

I just don't think of Roy Clark as a "comedian". Great guitar player, yes. Decent "Hee Haw" co-host, okay. Had a nice recording called, "The Tips Of My Fingers", agreed. But I don't really know how he qualifies as a comedian.

But, you know, I could just be missing something. I know he made a lot of weird facial contortions when he was performing, so maybe that's it.

I was just thinking - what if you won an award for comedian of the year, and you were never trying to be funny? How embarrassing that would be! "What do you mean, comedian of the year?" And you'd slink up to the podium and say something serious, and everybody would be rolling in the aisles. I think ol' Roy probably just rolled with it....and that's how his career as a comedian began......



ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR

Merle Haggard

No surprise here, after the year that Merle had. And, fyi, I saw Merle Haggard in concert back in 1968, and yes, he deserved to be named Entertainer of the Year for 1970, and for a whole bunch of other years.

Strangely (ha!), Merle only had that one year in which he grabbed a whole bunch of awards. You'd think his career stopped in 1970 or something. Nothing could be further from the truth. But all things are cyclical, I guess. So, the CMA moved on to someone else.

And he didn't even get into the hall of fame until 1994. I don't know if there's a waiting period or what. They could have just slapped him in there in 1970, but I guess they wanted to give others a chance.

This is a nice video performance. Merle didn't actually release this single until 1970, but I've done a bunch of Merle videos, so I had to change things up a bit. So, even though he won the entertainer of the year award technically prior to releasing this song, I'm sure the CMA voters knew that he was going to come up with another great one, so they were ahead of the curve, let's say.



HALL OF FAME INDUCTEES

The Carter Family

There were a couple of true pioneers inducted into the hall of fame in 1970, the Carter Family, certainly fitting that bill. Hard to think that this is where country music originated, since it's nothing like this anymore (obviously), but without Ralph Peer traveling around the country to document the original American music of the day in 1927, maybe there would be no country music at all.

The original group consisted of A.P., Sara, and Maybelle. I can't find any early videos of the original Carter Family, but here is one with Maybelle and daughters Helen and Anita. (Note that June is not included here. Truth be told, June was by far the worst singer in the family, but that's really neither here nor there.)



Bill Monroe

Bill Monroe was the father of bluegrass music. I don't know exactly how that works. How do you invent a new genre of music? There's not too much precedence for that. Could that happen now? I really don't think so. What could be different enough from the established forms of music to be considered something new? So, that's quite an accomplishment. That'd be something to put on your resume: "I invented a new style of music". "Hey, you're hired then!"

Admittedly, before I knew anything about Bill Monroe, other than his name, I imagined his singing voice to sound quite different from how it actually sounded. I was taken aback by his high tenor. Now, of course, it seems natural. But one generally doesn't expect a guy to sing like that.



So, 1970 was a watershed year for country music.

I don't know exactly how it was a watershed year, but I like using the word "watershed".

Oh, wait. I know. It's when electric guitar-dominated music came to the fore. Because prior to 1970, it was that "string" thing that good old Chet advocated. And so, in 1970, country music got real.

If only that were to last. Country fans had to suffer through a bunch of crummy stuff in years to come, before the music "swung back" to what it was supposed to be. That was just before it finally took the fatal plunge into Crap Land.

So, it's nice to look back, isn't it?

You may be asking, how long can I keep going with this year-by-year recap? I don't know yet. I haven't gotten disillusioned yet, although I know that disillusionment is on the horizon. The seventies are upon us, and the seventies were brutal.

But we'll keep on keeping on........for now.