Showing posts with label marty robbins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marty robbins. Show all posts

Thursday, June 15, 2017

People Who Don't Like Country Music...


My husband, no country music fan, remarked the other day that the reason early-to-mid-sixties rock was so good was because of the harmonies. "That's when producers were still in charge," he said. His unspoken conclusion was that the rock artists of the late sixties weren't overly concerned with production. It's true. There were exceptions, but the late sixties were an anarchic time; artists were naive in their "let it all hang out" mindset toward music. Unlike now, which is essentially an anarchic time, too, but artists are now willing to bend a knee in worship of dollars and "likes". Perhaps that's why I find modern music tiresome -- it's so blatantly manipulative. I'll gladly take the naive badly produced song. At least it was honest.

But as my husband uttered the word, "harmonies", I thought, exactly! That's country music!

If the Everly Brothers had begun their career only a few years later than they did, they would have been country artists. Because country music is (or was) all about harmony.


There is an innate reason why humans are drawn to harmony. I'm not a scientist, so I don't know the reason for that. Maybe the answer is found in nature -- the way the flutter of the wind through the trees mingles with a bird's trills; and we feel alive and soft, cradled inside the earth's hands.

We're drawn to harmony and yearn to sing along. Even if we do it badly, it doesn't matter because it feels so good, so natural.

When I was sixteen or so, I'd recently purchased my first "real" reel-to-reel tape recorder, and I impressed myself with my wondrous ability to sing three-part harmony to this song, by bouncing tracks (the recording itself only featured two-part harmonies, but I said, let's go all out!):



In the early sixties, country music featured not only two-part, but three-part harmonies, where I no doubt got the idea for my "Silver Wings" rendition.

For example:


The absolute master of harmonies was Ray Price. Ray had his Cherokee Cowboys, of which a guy named Roger Miller was once a part. As an added bonus, Roger wrote this song and added his half-step to Ray's vocals:


And don't forget Buck Owens and Don Rich. In the early sixties, country music basically drizzled down to Buck Owens. The Grand Ol' Opry kept doing its thing, but nobody could compete with Bakersfield, and Nashville keenly knew it. If it wasn't for Don Rich, well...


There is no question what my favorite harmony song from the late sixties was. I know I recently featured this video in another post, but bear with me -- I can't find an original performance video of Mel Tillis doing:


From the Everlys to Porter and Dolly to Restless Heart to Brad and Dolly to Waylon and Willie, to Naomi and Wynonna, up to Vince and Patty, harmony is what country music is known for:



My visceral reaction to harmony singing, when it's good, is that it stabs me in the heart.

Everybody needs that little stab sometimes. That's how we know we're alive.








Saturday, June 10, 2017

"It's So Corny"


From the age of thirteen, when I took the deep dive into country music; which, honestly, I never would have done if not for my new best friend, I faced the quizzical, derisive expressions of anyone who ever asked me what kind of music I listened to -- if I chose to respond honestly. The truth was, I was kind of embarrassed, too. If I replied "country", the other person would say, "You mean like 'Folsom Prison Blues'?" Okay, yea, "Folsom Prison Blues", because that's the only country song the other person had ever heard of. Truthfully, I never liked that song. More truthfully, I never liked Johnny Cash, except for "I Still Miss Someone" and "Ring Of Fire". But the general (ignorant) wisdom was that anyone who listened to country music must love the brum brubb-a brum brum of Johnny Cash and his three-piece band. Because country fans were steeped in corn.

Or they'd say, "I really like that song, 'By The Time I Get To Phoenix'." Okay. That's another track on my mental list of songs I never, ever wanted to hear again. That was not country music.

If I'd taken the time to tick off the list of artists I listened to, nobody would have known who they were, so I instead let people think I was a die-hard Johnny Cash fan. Nobody'd ever heard of Merle Haggard, Faron Young, Tammy Wynette, Lynn Anderson, Mel Tillis, Dolly Parton, Ray Price, Charley Pride, or Marty Robbins.

The truth, though I never shared it with anyone, was that I had excellent taste in country music. I understood it was an acquired taste -- shoot, even I had to acquire a taste for it. On first listen, yes, it was corny. The thing about country, though, was that it wasn't the crossover hits that defined it. The crossover hits were watered down to appeal to a wide audience. Thus, they weren't real country. The crossovers were an amalgam of treacly strings combined with a southern accent. The worst of two worlds.

Being a country fan was like being a rock fan in the sixties. You didn't want to claim songs like "Yummy Yummy Yummy" or "I'm Henry VIII, I Am", but they were part of your posse, so if you liked "Strawberry Fields", you were thus tarnished with the stench of "Young Girl" by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap. It came with the territory. It didn't matter how much you protested, if you were a rock fan, you liked "Honey" by Bobby Goldsboro. If you were a country fan...well...you liked "Honey" by Bobby Goldsboro (trust me, nobody ever anywhere liked that song).

I included a pic of Loretta Lynn in this post for a reason. She was (is) a really talented artist and certainly knew how to write hits, but her songs were the epitome of corn. And in them she always wanted to start a fight with someone. Loretta Lynn was another of the country stars, like Johnny Cash, that I didn't bond with.

When I was about eight years old, I went with my parents to see Loretta Lynn at Panther Hall in Fort Worth, Texas. It was an odd scene -- folks had to bring their own booze in with them -- the hall only served "mix" (7-UP or whatever other accompaniment one wanted with their cocktail). Dinner was served at long tables with white tablecloths. Patrons shared a table with approximately thirty strangers. The waiters came by to take our orders -- I probably ordered a hot dog or fish sticks -- if they were on the menu. I remember the waiter asking me what kind of dressing I wanted on my salad and I replied, "none". He asked, "No salad?" and I said, "No, no dressing.". Yes, I ate bare lettuce mingled with carrot slivers and radish slices. I was a pathologically picky eater.

Be that as it may, we saw Loretta Lynn and her band perform, I guess in between the garlic bread and the baked potato. Someone in our party (which consisted of my parents and my sister and brother-in-law) went up and got Loretta's autograph. They brought the signed photo back to the table and I remarked, "It looks like it says 'Buffalo Lynn'." Henceforth, Loretta would always be known as Buffalo Lynn to me.

Later I would discover "Blue Kentucky Girl" and wonder why Loretta never sang more songs like that; songs that were plaintive and not pugilistic.

The pugilistic side was what country fans had to try to (or try not to) explain to rubes who scratched their heads when we admitted that we listened to country music.

So, let's rip off the Band-Aid:


I wonder whatever happened to old Henson Cargill:



I really can't convey the number of times this next song was played on the radio. Somewhere in the dark recesses of the stratosphere, there is a little satellite bouncing around, streaming this track. And little aliens are exclaiming, "If I have to hear this song one more time, I'm going to slit the sinewed tendons that attach my arm to my hand".


I give Bobby Goldsboro a lot of (deserved) grief for his 1968 hit, but really, is it any worse than this?


Okay, I know you've been waiting:



Here are the songs I was actually listening to:










But really, no one would get it.

Friday, April 5, 2013

The Nineteen Fifties in Country Music Were Ripe With Promise



It's not as if I'm so conceited as to think that music was invented in the nineteen sixties.  Sure, that's maybe when my musical education began, but I am vaguely aware that music actually existed before I was born.  Not good music (ha)....I'm being facetious.  I know there was good music in the fifties.  And I have the Ray Price albums to prove it.

But there's most likely a lot about the fifties that I don't know, so, since a person I work with is so enamored of it, I wanted to at least give it a shot.

My retrospective of the '40's was excruciating.  I have much higher hopes for the ten years hence.

1950 found us still HANKering for Hank Williams.  I'm sorry that no music videos exist of Hank.  I, as much as you, hate staring at a static picture while listening to a song.  The person who slapped this up on YouTube maybe could have put a smidgeon of effort into the project; I'm just sayin'.

Nevertheless, here is Why Don't You Love Me Like You Used To Do:

     

An artist I know very little about is Lefty Frizzell.  I do know that he was most likely Merle Haggard's favorite singer, since Merle started out his career sounding just like Lefty, until someone pulled him aside and said, "Uh, you might want to just sing like yourself".  Merle was always adept at impressions, though.  He started off sounding a lot like Lefty; a lot like Wynn Stewart, somewhat like Bob Wills.  

I do not know why Merle Haggard always factors into every music post I make ~ I'm thinking I might as well just shoot for the stars and write a damn book about Merle Haggard.

But, Merle aside, 1951 found Lefty Frizzell hitting the top of the charts with this song:



1952 finally found a woman topping the charts!

Kitty Wells always struck me as being a reluctant star.  It was almost as if she was embarrassed to be up on the stage, when she had clothes to wash and dinner to fix at home.

That's always been the conundrum.  I'm no feminist, but I understand that women, as well as men, can have artistic leanings, and while the men have no compunction about expressing their artistic side, women feel the need to apologize for theirs.  I'm guessing that in 1952, it was almost shameful for someone like Kitty to have a career, although no doubt, her husband Johnnie didn't mind depositing the royalty checks.

Irrespective of Kitty's reluctance, this song sort of started it all for women in country music:



Webb Pierce was huge in the nineteen fifties.  I admit that I don't know why.  He had an odd voice; nasally.  But there is no denying that he was the king of kings in Nashville.  He even had a guitar-shaped swimming pool.  My theory is that he had a lot of dirt on a lot of people; and thus he ruled the Nashville culture with an iron fist.  Songwriters quivered in his doorway and practically pleaded on hands and knees for Webb to record their songs.  He got the pick of the litter; song-wise.  Probably like George Strait; except George can sing.

In 1953, Webb Pierce had a monstrous hit with this song, which anyone with a rudimentary acquaintance with an acoustic guitar can replicate, because the chord progression is so simple, my dog could play it.





Speaking of nasally voices, another big star of the 1950's was Hank Snow.  

I mainly remember Hank Snow because of the song, "I've Been Everywhere", which has a bunch of town names that one has to sing really fast, because, well, it's a fast song.  

As a challenge to myself once, I memorized the lyrics to that song, because I was young, and I didn't have hardly anything clogging up my brain at the time.  It's not as if that knowledge was ever any use to me.  It never came up in a trivia contest or anything.  Nowadays, I can barely remember my own phone number.  

But it wasn't "I've Been Everywhere" that had country fans singing along (as if) in 1954.  It was this song:



You may not think it's a good song, but you should hear Martina McBride sing it

Not to belabor this, but I have never been able to figure out if it's "I don't hurt anymore", or "It don't hurt anymore".  Wikipedia says it's "I", but then, why do they sing "it"?  Grammatically, of course, it should be "I", but since when did good grammar factor into country music?

In the year of my birth, 1955, we were once again entertained by Eddy Arnold, who definitely put the "western" in country and western with this song about doggies, which Clint Eastwood and John Wayne informed me were not actual doggies, but rather cows.



There were tons of great songs in 1956, such as Why Baby Why, I Walk the Line, Singin' the Blues; as well as Blue Suede Shoes and Heartbreak Hotel, which were not technically country songs, but rather, rockabilly.   Distinctions used to matter then.

I, however, feel that it's high time we feature some Ray Price.  My mom wasn't a real savvy music connoisseur, but she loved Ray Price.  She, in fact, had a giant crush on him; while my dad just appreciated his music.  I, too, appreciate Ray Price's music; especially from the time before he went all countrypolitan on us; when he just sang stone country songs.

Like this one:



1957 was another banner year for country music.  Again, like 1956, there are loads of hits from which to choose; like A White Sport CoatGone ("since you've gone..."), My Shoes Keep Walkin' Back to You.

But I've chosen this song, which could perhaps also be called rockabilly, but to me, is more of a rock 'n roll/country hybrid.

Why did I choose this one?  Silly ~ I always have to get a book plug in somewhere.  I wrote a bit about this song in my book, Rich Farmers; but even more than that, I have placed this song on my list of the 20 Best Country Songs of All Time; and that's a tough list to crack.

Here are the Everly Brothers:



I feel kind of (not really) bad featuring Ray Price again, but I can't let this song go unposted.  In 1958, Ray had a monster hit with a song written by Bill Anderson (the young'ns will recognize Bill by the song, "Whiskey Lullaby")

It was a tough choice, though.  1958 was swimming with great songs:  Great Balls of Fire (yes, technically, rockabilly again, but dang!  That song will get you up off your chair and dancing!  Alone With You (Faron Young ~ love Faron Young); All I Have to Do is Dream

Pick Me Up on Your Way Down by Charlie Walker (again, give a listen to Martina, if you think this song isn't quite your style.)  

This is such a great song, though; I could not, in good conscience, ignore it.

Once again, Ray Price:



By 1959, the winds of change were blowing.  Soon, Buck Owens and his Buckaroos would light a fire with a telecaster; Tammy Wynette would tear our hearts out with a crying steel and a voice like a wrenching sob.  Loretta would get all feisty about the man who did her wrong.

Kris would have one more beer for dessert.  Bobby (and Mel) would go to sleep in Detroit City.  Tom T. would gossip about the PTA.  Lynn would refuse to promise us a rose garden.

Merle.

Yet, before the decade turned, a four-minute, thirty-eight second song would tell us a tale about a young man who fell in love with a girl named Felina; and about one little kiss.

Here is Marty Robbins:




While the 1940's were essentially a bust for me, country music-wise; the fifties were ripe with promise.  Granted, I never heard these songs (or don't remember hearing them) until a few years down the road; but I can thank artists like Martina for bringing some of them back.  And I can thank my "best of" albums for introducing the songs to me a couple (or ten) years later.

The nineteen fifties in country music were not throwaway years.  Nay, they were classic years; if  for no other artists than Ray Price, Marty Robbins, and the Everly Brothers.

Oh, but the winds of change; they were a'blowin'.......

  



































Friday, May 4, 2012

Back To Work ~ 1979 ~ And Music

When my youngest son was 6 months old, I knew the jig was up, and that I would have to go back to work.

It had been a nice sabbatical, if you call toddler/infant duty a sabbatical, but I enjoyed it.  I would have been happy to stay home awhile longer.  Alas, the checkbook spoke to me and told me otherwise, so off to find a job I scurried.

There was one of those signs along the street in front of our complex, advertising, "Future Site of LaBelle's".  And as we drove past it, I announced, "That's where I'm going to work.".  The pluses were that it was approximately 3 blocks from my home, and well, that's about it.  But I decided that I was going to get a job there.

Did you ever apply for a job for which you had no qualifications whatsoever, but you took what little experience you did have and twisted it into something that looked faintly like what the job required?  Well, who hasn't?  I had run a cash register at my mom and dad's business, so there you go.  Cash register experience.  Voila.

I don't know if anybody even remembers LaBelle's Catalog Showroom.  It apparently became defunct sometime in the mid-1980's.  But for awhile there, it was the thing.  It was a forerunner, I guess, of those warehouse stores, but on a much more pitiful scale.

There would be one of each object displayed on the shelves, and people would take one of those little stubby pencils and an order form and write down the item number, hand it to somebody, and the warehouse guys (who were just standing around with nothing much to do) would get right on it.

I worked in the "Will Call" department, which apparently meant that I would "call" people when their order came meandering up on the conveyer belt.  Another qualification I had for the job, now that I think about it, was a good speaking voice.  Because once the item finally trudged through those leather hanging strips, out to the front of the store, I would grab the little microphone off its wall mounting and announce, "Gary Pompandreaus, your order is ready at register three.  Gary Pompandreaus, register three please."

(Now that I think about it, I'm not so sure that everybody loved having everybody else in the store know that they were there, so that they'd all come running up to the cash register, clamoring, "What'd you get?", but that's how LaBelle's rolled.)

And the whole "register three" bit was sort of unnecessary.  There were generally two of us working the registers, and therefore, it didn't exactly matter which register somebody strolled up to.  We'd ring 'em up, regardless.  I wasn't going to be an ass and say to them, "No, I said register three!", and make them move one slot over.  Although, in hindsight, it would have been fun to grab that mic again and scold people publicly for their malfeasance.

I liked the job.  Sure, it got crazy at Christmas time, but that actually was much more interesting than standing around on a Wednesday night, ringing up a purchase every 20 minutes or so.  That could get boring and uncomfortable, seeing as how we had to wear high heels.  So more customers meant less time thinking about how much our feet hurt.

I even liked working the "returns" register.  Of course, times were different then.  Everybody (mostly) was polite, and we had a generous return policy.  It made me feel good to make customers happy, by just handing them their money back.  It's not like that now, is it?  They want you to bring three forms of ID, the original receipt, and heaven forbid if you've (gasp!) opened the package!  And then they begrudgingly hand you a slip of paper as "store credit".  But customer service is not exactly geared toward the "customer" anymore, is it?  They shouldn't even label the counter "Customer Service".  They should call it the, "What the hell do you want?  You're bothering me!" counter.

At the time I worked at LaBelle's, the cabbage patch doll craze was in full swing.  People were nuts about those dolls.  I sort of felt out of the loop, being a mother of boys.  And sadly, had I wanted one of those grotesque, large-headed babies, I could have had my pick.  I could have perused the shelves, picked out whichever cabbage baby was the least ugly, and had it set aside for me.  Too bad I wasn't working at LaBelle's when Transformers were popular.  I would have saved TONS of money.

Sadly, for me, retail didn't pay worth crap.  So, I didn't stay at LaBelle's long.  And apparently, LaBelle's didn't stay at LaBelle's long, either.  They folded up just a few years after I had moved on.  Their marketing concept was quaint, but they couldn't compete with the WalMarts, et al.  And really, when you think about it, would you like to stand around waiting for your item to come trudging up a conveyer belt, when you could much more quickly grab your crock pot from a WalMart shelf, and stand in line for 20 minutes, waiting to pay for it?

I don't even know if LaBelle's was a national chain.  I'm thinking it probably wasn't.  But for those of you who remember the store, here is one of their Christmas commercials (and really, cameras were dang expensive then!  I had me one of those SLR's, albeit a Minolta; not a Canon ~ purchased at LaBelle's with my employee discount ~ and I have lost all memory of the usurious amount I paid for that thing!  Now, we have digital crappy cameras, that you have to hold two feet from your face in order to focus on whatever object you're trying to snap, and you have little control, and generally, one lens, and you have to pull out your "memory card" and take it to a store and pick out your pics and have them print out, and most of them are throwaways, but dang!  Aren't those cameras cheap now!)

But 1979 wasn't just about getting back out into the working world.  There was also (country) music.

I have mostly foggy memories of many times of my life, but the music brings it all back.  That's what I love about music.

I will say, though, that nobody thought that 1979 country music was worth preserving on video, apparently, because most of it is just not there to share.  Maybe 1979 was a throwaway year?   I didn't think so.

But here is some of what I could find:

Don Williams ~ Tulsa Time



A haggard-looking Waylon Jennings ~ Amanda




Mel Tillis ~ Coca-Cola Cowboy




Charlie Daniels Band ~ The Devil Went Down To Georgia



T.G. Sheppard ~ Last Cheater's Waltz (sorry for the bad video quality)




Marty Robbins ~ All-Around Cowboy



Emmylou Harris ~ Blue Kentucky Girl (shhh, yes, you and I know that this was a Loretta Lynn song)



Oak Ridge Boys ~ Come On In



Hank Williams, Jr. ~ Family Tradition

(Hank, Jr. was always great at referring to himself in the third person ~ "Ol' Hank".  He couldn't quite pull it off like Jerry Lee did, though.  I once got up and walked out of a Hank Williams, Jr. concert.  Seriously, the only time I ever walked out of a concert.  In hindsight, if I had it to do over again, I wouldn't have walked out, but I would have stayed and been really bored.)




The Statler Brothers ~ How To Be a Country Star



Just give me some Jerry Lee Lewis any day (and he can call himself "Ol' Jerry Lee" as much as he wants, Hank.) ~ Rockin' My Life Away



Texas (When I Die) ~ Tanya Tucker



These videos, such as they are, remind me of how seminal 1979 really was in country music.  And those are just the videos I could find.  I couldn't find Eddie Rabbitt, nor Kenny Rogers, nor Anne Murray, among others.

I never before really put two and two together ~ my re-entry into the working life and my immersion in country radio.  But, you know, I had more important things on my mind then.

Two boys,

And not buying cabbage patch dolls.






















Friday, April 6, 2012

Yet More Great Country Artists from the Seventies ~ Faron Young


I don't know how I talked my dad into driving 100 miles to the State Fair to see Faron Young in concert.

At the age of fifteen or sixteen, I was barely even talking to my parents.  I was a sullen teenager with a giant chip on my shoulder.  I don't clearly remember those years, but I do remember being perpetually mad at my mom and dad for something they did, or something they didn't do, or just because.  They needn't have taken it personally, though.  I was mad at everything, including myself. 

Teenaged girls are the worst.  Maybe it's all those hormones.  I have sons.  My sons were nothing compared to me at the same age.  I don't know how my parents refrained from killing me.  I remember a lot of slamming doors (by me).  That was always a favorite.  Those hollow wooden doors would make just the right "crack!", with a delicious echo.  They were the punctuation on a sentence that I never uttered.

It's not that my parents did anything to me.  They just were.  They were perfectly fine people.  Although unreasonable.  At least my mom.  At least to me.  Then. 

But I must have managed to utter a sentence, at least, to my dad, which most likely contained the words, "please, please!" in it, because, you see, Faron Young, at one time, was my very favorite singer.

I don't even know why my dad agreed to the whole scheme, because, while he was a music lover, he never expressed any particular love of Faron Young's music, nor did my mom.  My mom and dad liked whatever they heard on the radio.  They weren't buying records in those days.  They listened to the radio in the car.

I, however, had my component stereo system, purchased at JC Penney, with my own earnings.  I don't think it was cheap, either.  I think it cost about $100.00.  Bear in mind, I was fifteen-ish, and this was the early 1970's.  $100.00 was a lot of moolah to me.

My "sound system" had those detachable speakers, that I could separate within the room space, for maximum sound quality.  It had a turntable.  It had AM/FM radio.  I also had a reel-to-reel tape recorder that I'd bought earlier for, I'll say, about $40.00, so I was constantly recording stuff off the radio, too.

I listened to WHO from Des Moines, Iowa, with Mike Hoyer, "from coast to coast, border to border, and then some".  I sometimes listened to Ralph Emery on WSM out of Nashville, when I could actually get the signal.  I listened to Bill Mack out of Fort Worth, Texas.  WBAP.

And I heard a lot of songs I liked by Faron Young.

Faron had a storied history in the music business.  He started out in the 1950's, on Capitol Records.  He was best friends with Hank Williams.  Faron's stories are legendary in Nashville.

Willie talked him into "Hello Walls" one night at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge.  Faron thought it was corny.  He kidded Willie about "hello lamp, hello table", etc.  Willie and Faron, though, laughed all the way to the bank.  "Hello Walls" is likely the song that Faron will be remembered by.

By the late sixties, early seventies, Faron had moved on to Mercury Records.  He had a new producer, the renowned Jerry Kennedy.  And he had a bunch of great songs.

Do you know a bar band that hasn't done this song?



This song was written by Jeannie Seely:



Faron had been in a car accident shortly before he recorded this next song.  (Don't ask ~ okay, yea, there was drinking involved ~ there was always drinking involved with Faron Young).  He ended up with a lacerated tongue, and still had to go into the studio to record the song.  He joked about it later ~ saying that he sang the song like Sylvester the Cat.  And on the record, one can definitely hear him singing, "Thhep attthide".  But it's still great, regardleth:



There was a bit of Dean Martin in Faron.  And yet, his voice is unmistakably country.  I think a country voice is an intangible, but you know it when you hear it.  Faron was from Shreveport, Louisiana, after all.  It was hard to not sound country.   I don't think it was an affectation, and if it was, then everybody was copying Faron, considering he'd been around for a long while, but he sang his words much like Marty Robbins.  "To-noight" for "Tonight".  "Toime" for "time".



Faron also recorded a song by a young, unknown songwriter, named Kris Kristofferson.  Kris was sweeping floors, and writing songs, and getting nowhere.  People think Johnny Cash launched Kris's career.  I beg to differ:



Nobody, except Faron Young geeks, will remember "(I've Got) Precious Memories".  I, of course, am raising my hand, because, after all, that was the title of the album, and yes, I have it.  Some, however, may remember, "I Just Came To Get My Baby", mostly because George Strait covered it.  Yes, George Strait covered Faron Young.



I was not surprised to find that there is no performance video of my very, absolute favorite, Faron Young recording.   No, it wasn't a number one song.  It was a number four.  Maybe, I guess, other people didn't love it like I did, so that's why there is no YouTube performance video.

I remember the first time I heard the single.  Ralph Emery played it.  I swooned over it.  I just wanted to hear it again.  But, alas, this was AM radio.  It would come around again when it came around again.

Tom T. Hall wrote the song.  Tom ("no chorus") T. Hall.  For not writing a chorus, I think this was a damn good song.  Or, at least, it was, after Faron got hold of it:



Alas, my trip to the State Fair and to the Faron Young concert was sort of a letdown.

Faron, you see, was a drinker.  And I think (I'm conjecturing) that he was kind of bored.  So, his live performances were silly; a joke that nobody was in on.  He couldn't seem to get through a song without breaking out in the giggles.  That's all well and good, if you're Marty Robbins. I saw Marty Robbins in concert, and while he was semi-silly, he made sure to include the audience in the joke.  Faron didn't. 

So, I went home in the back seat of the car, sort of embarrassed that I'd cajoled my dad into driving all those miles; knowing that he and my mom were thinking, well, this was time well wasted.

I went back to my Faron records and to WSM radio, and to Bill Mack, and to Mike Hoyer.

I never held it against Faron.  I just chalked the whole concert up to a (slightly seamy) slice of life.

And, later, my dad became somewhat enamored of this song, which, aside from "Hello Walls", became Faron's biggest hit.  And, to be honest, I don't like it that much.  I can't tell you why (as the Eagles said).  Maybe I just like the "twin fiddles Faron"; not the "cheesy strings Faron".

But here is "Four In The Mornin'":



I'm not, however, going to just leave it here.

As I said, Faron started out in the nineteen fifties.  And he had some great records, even if I obviously heard them as oldies.

This is one that he re-recorded, thankfully, in the seventies, because I would have known nothing about it, if he hadn't.



If you're ever looking for a great country karaoke song, you could not go wrong with this next song.  Connie Smith recorded it, and that's good enough for me.  And it's a good song!



Much as my dad liked, "Four In The Mornin'", if we're going to nominate one song as Faron Young's best (or at least, "best known"), we have to choose this one, written by Willie:



Faron Young's life ended wrongfully.  He killed himself with a shotgun.  I understand he was in ill health.  But I also understand how the music industry tossed aside the legends, unless their name was Johnny Cash.

The Country Music Hall of Fame, in its benevolence, elected Faron to the Hall of Fame after he died.  Would that they had had the foresight to elect him while he was still around to accept.

I was visiting my mom during the CMA Awards that year.  We had the TV on, and my mom said to me, "I bet that makes you feel good, that Faron Young's been inducted into the Hall of Fame".  She actually remembered that the geeky teenager, the belligerent one, had once worshiped Faron Young.  My dad was, well, not gone, but his being was gone.  But my mom remembered.

I mumbled something about, "yes, he was a great artist", but I was mourning, and I couldn't bring myself to share that.

How could I put into words what Faron's music meant to me? 

Even now, today, when I watch these videos, I'm transformed.  It's a combination of a bunch of things.  My dad, driving those hundred miles, in his white Ford LTD, just to satisfy a geeky teenager's longing to see her idol.  A selfless act, for a daughter who was self-absorbed, self-centered; self-indulgent.

My dad, and Faron, somehow, are intertwined in my memory.

I leave the topic of the great artists of the nineteen seventies here.  I have no more to say about that.






















Saturday, June 6, 2009

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.

~~~

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The CMA Awards - What's New In 1982!

I don't like to prejudice you right off the bat, but welcome to one of the most boring awards years ever!

Yes, 1982. I think people were feeling kind of apathetic. "Oh, just pick someone. We don't really care."

And, in scanning the news events of the year, it appears that nothing really happened.

Even in pop culture, things looked bleak. The most popular TV shows were horrid - empty calories, to be sure: Dynasty, Dallas, Falcon Crest, The Love Boat, Magnum, PI, The A Team:



Popular music? Ish. Here are some of the hit songs: Ebony and Ivory, Abracadabra (I wanna reach out and grab ya), I Can't Go For That (oh no - no can do!), I Love Rock and Roll (which is basically the title repeated over and over).

The movies were atrocious. If it hadn't been for E.T., I think everyone would have just stayed home and watched The Love Boat.

So, that kind of tells you what's coming, in the world of the CMA awards.

To start things off, CHET ATKINS was named INSTRUMENTALIST OF THE YEAR for the thousandth time. Again, who doesn't love Chet Atkins? But I'm thinkin' there were some other guys around, playing instruments, too.

The VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR once again were DAVID FRIZZELL and SHELLY WEST. As I mentioned in my 1981 post, there are no videos available of David and Shelly performing. Now, seeing as how one can find pretty much anything they could ever dream of on YouTube, I just have this nagging suspicion that there's some kind of legal stuff involved with the "no videos" situation.

But, two can play at that game.

If we can't have David and Shelly, then let's go with the relatives. First, here's Mom:



Despite the hair, this is still one of the best country songs ever (and Dottie wrote it).

And now - David's brother:



Wow, one of Merle Haggard's heroes - can you tell? I never realized just HOW similar their voices are. Hearing this (and not seeing it), I would be hard-pressed to tell if it was Lefty or Merle.

So, the lack of David/Shelly videos actually opened up an opportunity for me to post some superior performances. Ha ha! I win again!

The INSTRUMENTAL GROUP OF THE YEAR and VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR were once again ALABAMA. The introduction to this video states 1983, but this song was released in 1982 - I looked it up. With introductions by two of my all-time faves, Tammy Wynette and Ray Stevens, here's Mountain Music:



Some great fiddling by Jeff Cook!

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR was awarded to someone new this time - JANIE FRICKE.

An interesting fact about Janie is that she began her career as a background singer in Nashville. During that period, she recorded an uncredited vocal part for a single released by Johnny Duncan, "Stranger" (written by Kris Kristofferson). Nobody knew who the female singer was, and there was a bunch of speculation about who it could be. (Hers was, to me, the best part of the recording). This event led to Janie's solo recording career. Again, there is no video of this song, but here's a nice picture of a radio to look at while you listen to it:



And here's the actual Janie, in person:



It's relatively easy to wrap up three categories at once; those being SINGLE OF THE YEAR, ALBUM OF THE YEAR, and SONG OF THE YEAR.

Ya gotta love Willie. He's just a likeable guy. Watching him perform, you just feel relaxed (as is Willie from......well, you know).

So, Willie scored big at the 1982 awards, as did writers Wayne Carson, Johnny Christopher, and Mark James, with:

ALWAYS ON MY MIND - Single of the Year, Song of the Year, Album of the Year

(How many writers does it take to write a hit song? Insert your own punch line here.)



Kind of an interesting development in 1982 was that the person who won the HORIZON AWARD (for best newcomer) also won the MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR award. I guess his career was on a fast track!

Well, this guy has had quite a career, and to think it all started with the Horizon Award. Ricky is a bluegrass artist at heart, but he managed to co-mingle bluegrass and country and shake up country music a bit.

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR - RICKY SKAGGS

(This is one of them new-fangled "music videos". Sorry I couldn't find any older live performances by Ricky, so this'll have to do.)



That leads us, of course, to the big event of the evening, ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR.

I'll just say right now, I blew it by posting their "better" song already above, but since I want to stay chronologically correct, here's a song that was released in 1981, just in time for the 1982 awards.

Don't worry - they had A BUNCH of other songs, and won A BUNCH of other awards in years to come, so there'll be more opportunities to watch:

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR - ALABAMA


COUNTRY MUSIC HALL OF FAME

There were three inductees in 1982. I think the CMA figured they'd better start playing catch-up, and fast.

Roy Horton

This whole CMA blogging thing has given me an education in the roots of country music, since I am unfamiliar with some of these names. For example, Roy Horton.

Roy started his career around 1939, as a bass player. He backed up a guy called Red River Dave (not to be confused with my Red River Dave).

In the 1940's he became a promoter with Peer-Southern Music, and helped to promote the careers of artists such as Jimmie Rodgers, The Carter Family, Bill Monroe, among many others.

Here's some rare (and very cool) footage of Jimmy Rodgers (another of Merle's heroes, by the way), singing, "Waiting For A Train" :



Lefty Frizzell

I swear, I had no idea when I posted a video of Lefty above, that he was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1982. Weird coincidence!

Lefty recorded many, many classic songs. For some reason, he's not well remembered, except by the likes of Merle Haggard. And I'm not sure why.

He obviously had a huge influence on other artists (notice in this video how George Jones apparently picked up a few style pointers).

I'm thoroughly enjoying watching videos of Lefty, and while this one is of really poor quality (from an early, early Porter Wagoner Show performance), it's still a lot of fun to see:



Here's one more:



Lefty died at the very young age of 47 in 1975, after a hard-lived life. That happens a lot to true artists. The ones who make it "to December" (like Merle), I think are basically just lucky.

Marty Robbins

Well, gee. I wrote a whole long blog post about Marty Robbins awhile back, because you can't write about Marty in a couple of sentences. If you want to read my post about Marty, click here (and then scroll up, because for whatever reason, the links always land you at the bottom of the post! It's aggravating.)

So, all I can really say is that when I watch videos of Marty, I realize once again what we lost when Marty passed away. He was only 57.

Marty was also a hero of Merle's, so somehow these posts tend to develop a continuity all their own.

Here's Marty, as only Marty can be:



So, there you go; 1982. If it hadn't been for the Hall of Fame inductees, it would have been a relatively boring year.

But we always manage to find something fun, and this time was no exception.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Blast From The Past - Top Country Hits of 1978 - 30 Years Ago!

I had some good luck with the top hits from 50 years ago, so let's see if my luck continues.

I am not a huge fan of the seventies, music-wise, or I guess, culture-wise in general. But I'm hoping that the music will not disappoint.

So, let's take a look at some of the top hits from 1978.

As always, we like to start things off on a high note, so here is:

DON WILLIAMS - TULSA TIME


Don Williams may be the "Perry Como" of country music. You know, that old SCTV skit, with Perry Como so laid back that he's lying on the stage singing into his microphone.

But talent is as talent does, or some other mangled cliche. If you're as good a singer as Don Williams, I guess you don't need to jump around the stage. You just have to sing.

And now for something completely different:

JOHNNY PAYCHECK - TAKE THIS JOB AND SHOVE IT


Here's Johnny, in all his orange sartorial splendor, singing the timeless song that has inspired millions of people to repeat the song title on a daily basis.

To me, the title is actually better than the song itself. I'm not knocking Johnny Paycheck, because I am a fan. It's just that Johnny had better songs than this one.

And you'd think he could have afforded to replace that missing tooth. But maybe not.

WAYLON JENNINGS (MINUS WILLIE) - MAMAS, DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE COWBOYS


What a treat it is to see Waylon again.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find a video of Waylon and Willie together doing this number, but this video is quite good! The sound quality is excellent.

I'm currently reading the biography of Willie, and I highly recommend it. I'm only about halfway through right now, and I'll be slapping up a review of it, once I'm finished, but, of course, Waylon is featured prominently in the book.

But to be honest, if we're talking "outlaws", Johnny Paycheck's got them all beat to hell. Just search the net for his prison record. I'm just sayin'.

Speaking of Willie, here is:

WILLIE NELSON - BLUE SKIES


I'm an admirer of Willie's singing style, but I'll admit, it had to grow on me. I used to HATE his voice. It's not a "country" voice. Let's just call it "country jazz". How's that?

And this is not a quibble at all, but have you noticed that the songs that were hits for Willie were almost exclusively remakes of old songs? I mean, you know, Willie actually wrote some pretty decent songs all on his own.

Not to leave out the women, here's:

BARBARA MANDRELL - SLEEPIN' SINGLE IN A DOUBLE BED


I can't tell you how much I HATE this song. This song represents everything that was wrong with 1970's country music.

Don't get me wrong. I actually LIKE Barbara. But not THIS song. Good lord, no.

I'm sorry it cuts off before it's done. Or AM I??

Now back to real country music. This isn't my favorite song by this duo, but it's still far superior to SSIADB (the Mandrell song).

THE KENDALLS - SWEET DESIRE


As much as I like Jeannie Kendall, I still can't quite reconcile her unusual wardrobe choices. She dresses worse than Johnny Paycheck!

But I like this song, and it, in some ways, captures that bluegrass sound that Jeannie does so well.

I like this next song. It's infinitely better than SSIADB. I'm just surprised it hit it big on the country charts. I mean, in 1978. Of course, it would (might?) hit it big on the country charts now. I wonder, though. Maybe it's too good.

BONNIE TYLER - IT'S A HEARTACHE


And I always wondered what Bonnie looked like! Maybe I knew at one time, but I forgot.

Bonnie must be the only example of a singer who had vocal problems that actually helped her career.

Here's one of my favorites. Because he has style. And attitude.

JERRY LEE LEWIS - MIDDLE AGED CRAZY


Oh, one of the greats of country music is coming up next. I've said it before, but it bears repeating. As far as entertainers are concerned, he's pretty tough to beat:

MARTY ROBBINS - RETURN TO ME


Here we get an added bonus, "Beyond The Reef".

I could watch Marty all day. Notice how he has the crowd in the palm of his hand.

Someday, I'm going to just post a bunch of Marty videos, and sit back and enjoy.

Well, dang. The only decent video I could find of this song is not embeddable. So, here's a link. This is (easily) one of the best songs from 1978, so I just couldn't leave it out.

JOHN CONLEE - ROSE-COLORED GLASSES
Rose-Colored Glasses

Here's a singer who's cool in any decade. This song has a special meaning to me, because I have a recording of my best friend, Alice, singing this song. Alice is singing with the house band in heaven now.

EMMYLOU HARRIS - TO DADDY


Again, we have Willie. Craggy Willie. Doing a song written by Johnny Bush. No offense, Willie. I really do usually prefer your versions of songs, but I like Johnny Bush's version better. And Johnny wrote it. You kind of absconded with it, and now people think you wrote it.

It's a matter of taste, really. But to be perfectly honest, if I hadn't heard Johnny's version of the song, I'd kind of think the song sucked. No offense.

WILLIE NELSON - WHISKEY RIVER



I'll just end this reminiscince of 1978 with one of the hottest acts of that year:

THE OAK RIDGE BOYS - YOU'RE THE ONE


You might not recognize William Lee Golden without his long, flowing beard, but that's really him!

Duane Allen, of course, looks like your everyday boy next door, while Richard Sterban is trying to come across as a sex symbol (no offense, Richard, but it just looks really cheesy, especially with that slapping tambourine). Not to neglect Joe Bonsall and his afro.

So, there you have it. 1978. Not all bad; some good; some really good.

1978 wasn't the best year ever for country music. There were a lot of forgettable songs.

1978, for me personally, was a stellar year. Matt was born in December of 1978. So, who am I to quibble about that year?

What do I remember about the year, music-wise? I remember Emmylou, and I remember the Oak Ridge Boys. I remember that there were some really bad singles released in 1978, among them, songs by Crystal Gayle (who, let's face it, was really reaching by that time) and by Charley Pride (whose days on the charts were numbered).

I remember that Waylon had become an "outlaw".

The rest is really a blur.

Wikipedia lists a lot of songs that were hits. A lot of them, frankly, I couldn't identify if a gun was held to my head. And I was listening to country radio then.

Just goes to show you that songs are like quicksilver. Catch 'em while you can.