Watermelon Wine

by Frye Gaillard

  Allen Reynolds thought it was vintage Emmylou. She always had such a feel for the music—for that tension between tradition and change, which helped give life to great country songs. The album won a Grammy and sold fairly well, but it was virtually ignored by country music radio. Reynolds was frustrated, but Harris tried to be philosophical.

  “I was bothered for a while,” she says. “But it’s a natural thing that happens in a long career. You compete with yourself and your own oldies. But I admit I don’t listen to country radio. Probably that’s wrong of me, but about ten years ago, there was an explosion of people like Steve Earle, Lyle Lovett and Nanci Griffith. Most of them got very little airplay on the country music stations. It seemed like a chance to broaden the music without watering it down, but the door was closed and I got cynical. There are new artists today like Lucinda Williams and Gillian Welch. A lot of great country music is being made, but not a lot of it is on the radio.”

  Emmylou’s solution was to keep on pushing, producing a string of critically acclaimed albums, including another Grammy winner, “Red Dirt Girl,” which showcased her splendid abilities as a writer. The album, again, was ignored by the radio, but not by the public, and it was not the only example of that phenomenon—the deliberate exclusion in the top 40 market of music that’s not only critically admired, but also popular, as measured by its sales. In 2002, the Soggy Bottom Boys’ bluegrassy revival of “Man of Constant Sorrow” wasn’t played on country radio, but it helped the soundtrack of O Brother, Where Art Thou?, a semi-popular movie, to sell in excess of 6.3 million copies.

  Industry experts will argue, of course, that the only reason people bought the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack was that the movie’s main purpose was to spotlight the music. Movie-goers—often urban and northern and well-educated—were a captive audience, at first forced and later pleased to hear Dobros, fiddles and high, lonesome voices. That may be true, but it also spotlights the massive disconnect between the music that people would like to hear and the music to which they are most often exposed.

  It’s not that top 40 is a total wasteland. But for the dinosaurs among us still looking for substance, it’s pretty much down to Alan Jackson and the Chicks—the Dixie Chicks, three good-looking women from the state of Texas who have an aura about them of cheerful feminism and saucy femininity. Their charisma and sex appeal are so strong that the radio stations have been compelled to play them, despite the fact that they are serious musicians with a penchant for songs that have something to say. Over the years, they have sung about the “Wide Open Spaces” that a young girl encounters when she sets out on her own to see the world, and they have sung about the longing for the person left behind. They have sung about physically abusive husbands, and later with the backing of Emmylou Harris, they have sung about the love of a newborn child.

  But if they embody the fading hope for the mainstream, even the Dixie Chicks probably know that the best country music now occurs outside it. You can find it today in the urgent twang of Buddy Miller, as he sings the old Jesse Winchester song about the dark underside of “A Showman’s Life,” or in the aching country-blues of Lucinda Williams, as she sings about a girl and the death of her brother and the memories of all the places she has been. Even more obscurely, you can still hear the best of the country tradition in the work of Si Kahn, a country-folk singer from North Carolina, who paints word pictures of life in the mills, or the cotton fields of the Mississippi Delta.

  On his latest CD, which is simply called Threads, Kahn sings in his high and throbbing tenor voice a song about veterans of the Korean War spending their Saturday nights at the Moose Lodge.

  Here’s to our country

  Here’s to our town

  Here’s to the days

  When we rode up and down

  And here’s to us now at the Moose Lodge

  (copyright by Joe Hill Music)

  It’s a beautiful ballad, patriotic to its core. But what you find in the course of these verses is a patriotism tinged with the traces of regret, of old men remembering the way it used to be, which is precisely the kind of subtlety of emotion that is nearly always layered in the greatest country songs. Now, of course, it has mostly disappeared from the dull and colorless flow of the mainstream, but for those of us raised on Hank and Waylon and Willie and Emmylou, you accept the glimmers of hope where you can.

  For me at least, one of them came not long ago on an October evening. There was an overflow crowd at the Bluebird Café, a listening room on the south side of Nashville, where the dark hills rise against the Tennessee sky, and the picker-poets gather on a Saturday night. The star of the show this time was Marshall Chapman, a shit-kicker singer from South Carolina who came to Nashville as a student at Vanderbilt, majored in French, then set out to become a country star. She never quite made it. But along the way, she established herself as one of the finest song-writers in the city, and she was appearing at the Bluebird with Matraca Berg, a country music diva with a heart and a brain, equally gifted as a singer and a writer. On this particular night, there was also an unexpected twist. The two songwriters were sharing the stage with a pair of good old girl Southern novelists, Lee Smith and Jill McCorkle, whose stories seemed to fit with a good country song.

  Even the audience was cluttered with the stars, songwriters Kim Carnes and Rodney Crowell, and a handful of authors passing through the city for the annual Southern Festival of Books. They cheered the stories interspersed with the songs, a rollicking interplay of comedy and poignance, but the mood turned serious near the end of the show when Marshall Chapman sang a signature song. “Good-bye Little Rock And Roller,” which would soon become the title of her songwriter’s memoir, told the story of a girl and her dreams and a life on the road in a rock ’n’ roll band. Every night was now or never, the road just seemed to go forever. But after a while, it came full circle, and the woman was married with a daughter of her own, and she could feel her hopes giving way to her child’s.

  And so it is that the great country songs can still be found, the honest heirs to the tradition of Jimmie Rodgers, Merle Haggard and Mickey Newbury. Today, you just have to look a little harder. The music business in the 21st century is only one part of the great dumbing down, the deliberate underestimation of the audience that seems to afflict every corner of the media, from newspaper publishers to the people in charge of the television news.

  But as a matter of faith and self-preservation, some of us simply have to assume the enemies of creativity are wrong. We have to assume that the people know quality if they are given a choice. Otherwise, how could Hank Williams have written those songs? How could Emmylou Harris have achieved the stature she’s achieved in her career? How could there ever have been a Johnny Cash?

  Listeners’ Guide

  By Peter Cooper with Frye Gaillard

  Chapter 1

  Roy Acuff—Though he’s unquestionably one of the most important figures in country music history, Acuff’s catalogue hasn’t been handled well in the CD age. Acuff may, for now, be best heard on the Columbia/Legacy disc The Essential Roy Acuff (1936–1949) or on King of Country Music, a more extensive and more expensive import set from Germany’s Bear Family Records.

  Jeannie Seely—A Grand Ole Opry star for decades, Seely LPs like I’ll Love You More can often be found at used record stores (The Great Escape in Nashville, for one). The best collection of hits available on CD is called Greatest Hits on Monument, and it contains signature material like 1967 Grammy winner “Don’t Touch Me.”

  Sam & Kirk McGee—Fire up the computer, access the Internet, head to dennismorgansongwriter.com, click on “Grand Avenue Records” and order a copy of Sam & Kirk McGee’s The Greats of Country Music, Vol. 1 if you want to hear “Back When the Wagon Was New” on CD. Or try etrecordshop.com (that’s the Ernest Tubb Record Shop’s online site) to find the McGee’s Old Time Songs & Guitar Tunes on disc.

  Skeeter Davis�
�The best place to start is probably RCA’s aptly titled The Essential Skeeter Davis.

  Chapter 2

  Hank Williams—40 Greatest Hits is a nice primer (though sound quality leaves much to be desired) and Original Singles Collection Plus is a multi-disc treat. But the real gold is found within Mercury Records’ The Complete Hank Williams boxed set, a beautifully packaged, endlessly entertaining collection that should be given to every American child upon birth. The set includes demo versions of now-classics and some electrifying live performances where audience reaction rivals the fervor that would later be stirred up by The Beatles.

  Waylon Jennings—Waylon said on occasion that 1975’s Dreaming My Dreams was his personal favorite, and who are we to argue? Dreaming includes gems including the lovely title cut, the self-penned “Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way,” Billy Ray Reynolds’ “High Time (You Quit Your Low Down Ways)” and co-producer Jack Clement’s “Let’s All Help The Cowboys (Sing the Blues).” Other phenomenal albums are Honky Tonk Heroes, Lonesome On’ry and Mean (which features Mickey Newbury’s “San Francisco Mabel Joy”) and Ladies Love Outlaws. For a hits overview, try Only Daddy That’ll Walk The Line: The RCA Years or a similar two-disc set from the RCA Country Legends series.

  Tompall Glaser—Some good collections are available of Glaser’s work with The Glaser Brothers, though his solo stuff is harder to find. Wanted: The Outlaws features Glaser, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson and Jessi Colter, and it has recently been reissued in an expanded, sonically-improved format. Otherwise, there’s a Bear Family import album called The Rogue that’s well worth checking out.

  Jimmie Rodgers—Bear Family’s 145-song ing Brakman is wondrous and budget-busting. Also good: each one of Rounder Records’ eight, chronologically-arranged Rodgers volumes and RCA’s The Essential Jimmie Rodgers.

  Chapter 3

  Hazel Dickens—Rounder Records’ It’s Hard To Tell The Singer From The Song is a thing of mournful beauty, and it’s not hard to find.

  Asa Martin—As of this writing, Martin’s material is quite difficult to acquire. An Internet search for Asa Martin or Dr. Ginger Blue may reap some rewards.

  Doc Watson—An artist whose late-life efforts have been as compelling as his decades-old recordings, it’s hard to find a clunker in Watson’s catalogue. 1964’s Treasures Untold is wonderful, and a collection called The Vanguard Years provides a helpful starting point.

  Merle Travis—Folk Songs of the Hills is a favorite of banjo legend Earl Scruggs, and Razor & Ties The Best of Merle Travis: Sweet Temptation is well put together.

  Billy Edd Wheeler—Most everything is out of print, though 1979’s Wild Mountain Flowers is a nice find for those who don’t mind doing a little digging. Judy Collins version of Wheeler’s “The Coming of the Roads” is a folk era gem, and it’s on one of her best song-sets: 1965’s Fifth Album.

  Sara Ogan Gunning—The Silver Dagger, released in 1976 on Rounder Records, is a superb recording that has fallen out-of-print.

  Bobby Bare—Bear Family’s All-American Boy trumps everything, but it’ll cost you. Budget-minded folks can start with the Razor & Tie collection, The Best of Bobby Bare or with the CD reissue (it’s on Audium Records) of 1967’s fascinating A Bird Called Yesterday, which some folks claim was country music’s first concept album. For a study in generations, listen to one of son Bobby Bare, Jr.’s full-on rock ’n’ roll recordings, such as Boo-Tay.

  Gordon Lightfoot—All of Lightfoot’s early-career, United Artists recordings offer a pleasing blend of pop accessibility and folk roots. EMI’s multi-disc The United Artists Collection offers the whole kit and caboodle.

  George Hamilton IV—The kindly Hamilton, an international ambassador for country music, has been ill-served by the CD age. Once again, Bear Family provides the best source with its George Hamilton: 1954–65 collection. Otherwise, search the used record racks for 1960s LPs like Steel Rail Blues, Folksy and The Gentle Sound of George Hamilton IV, and the 1970s release Forever Young, which features a title track written by Bob Dylan and a splendid rendition of the old Scottish folk ballad, “Wild Mountain Thyme.”

  Chapter 4

  Johnny Cash—Start with the prison records—At San Quentin and At Folsom Prison—and then just keep on buying. Cash’s is one of country music’s richest and most rewarding catalogues, and there is no one boxed set or hits collection that tells anything close to the whole story. Look for Rhino Records’ The Sun Years, and marvel at the creepily close-to-the-bone interplay between Cash’s big voice and Luther Perkins’ spare guitar work. Next, Columbia/Legacy’s The Essential Johnny Cash 1955–1983 (don’t confuse it with a later, smaller release called The Essential Johnny Cash) offers 75 songs and still falls short of encapsulating the man and his work. All of Cash’s recent work with producer Rick Rubin is worth hearing, especially the sparse American Recordings and the spooky, profound American IV: The Man Comes Around.

  Bob Dylan—Pretty much everything Dylan ever recorded is necessary listening, simply because he is Bob Dylan. The recordings that most reveal Nashville ties are (obviously) “Nashville Skyline” and “Blonde On Blonde,” though most of Dylan’s work is only a degree of separation away from the folk ballads of The Carter Family, the Americana mastery of Johnny Cash or the hillbilly influence of Hank Williams. Also, we should note that there are several bootleg CDs out there that feature his collaborations with Cash, both in the recording studio and on Cash’s syndicated television show. Those are, of course, illegal. But so is moonshine, and it also is a staple of many a happy home.

  Chapter 5

  Kris Kristofferson—Start with the early stuff, preferably with the fine reissue of 1970s Kristofferson album. That one starts with the raucous “Blame It On The Stones,” then hits on pieces of brilliance including “Sunday Morning Coming Down,” “For The Good Times,” “Help Me Make It Through The Night” and “To Beat The Devil.” There’s no suitable boxed set survey of Kristofferson’s career, but a wonderful album called Live at the Philharmonic (no, it’s not recorded with a symphony) hits a lot of the high points and throws in some guest-star surprises as well.

  Harlan Howard—Howard wrote like a master and sang like a writer, which is why there aren’t many of his solo albums out on the market. Try Koch’s reissue of All-Time Favorite Country Songwriter (from 1965), notable for his emotionally direct versions of hits “Too Many Rivers” and “Heartaches by the Number.”

  John Hartford—Again, no boxed set (somebody wake up!). Best to begin with the 1971 Aereo-Plain album, which serves as the genesis of so much modern music that calls itself “Newgrass” or “New acoustic.” The 1976 Mark Twang album is another gem.

  Mickey Newbury—Heaven Help The Child is excellent, and it includes “Cortelia Clark.” Frisco Mabel Joy is nearly unassailable, as well. Though available on disc, both sound better on clean, old vinyl.

  Joan Baez—Sporting “Outside the Nashville City Limits,” plus two Newbury songs, a Kristofferson song and a Jesse Winchester song, Baez’s Blessed Are album from 1971 offers much joyful noise.

  Earl Scruggs—Bear Family sells some near-perfect boxed sets of classic Flatt & Scruggs material, and Scruggs’ fusion of folk, bluegrass, rock and country influences can best be understood through purchase of some early ’70s recordings. A two-fer CD from Collectables (www.oldies.com) features Scruggs’ Dueling Banjos album and a compelling Earl Scruggs Revue concert called Live At Kansas State with The Earl Scruggs Revue. The CD copy of Earl Scruggs: His Family and Friends is difficult to come by, though vinyl copies may be found at used record stores. The Family and Friends album, by the way, was a pre-cursor to and an influence on the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Will the Circle Be Unbroken.

  Bill Anderson—Two collections from Varese Sarabande, Whispering Bill Anderson’s Greatest Hits and Greatest Hits, Vol. II, have informative liner notes and most of Anderson’s essential recordings. Look for lesser-known selections like �
��Three A.M.” and “The Corner of My Life,” and marvel at the short-lived disco country effort, “Double S.”

  Chapter 6

  Various artists—Warner Bros. Records’ From Where I Stand: The Black Experience in Country Music boxed set is a wonderful aural study.

  Ray Charles—A Rhino Records collection called Complete Country & Western Recordings 1959–1986 is aptly titled and extraordinarily satisfying.

  Tom T. Hall—Tom T. Hall has amassed one of the greatest catalogues of any singer-songwriter to walk the earth, and it’s shameful that the supposed corporate keepers of country music’s flame have allowed most of his albums to remain out-of-print. The Magnificent Music Machine, The Rhymer and Other Five and Dimers, I Wrote A Song About It and For the People in the Last Hard Town are reason enough to dust off the record player and head to the used vinyl store. CD listeners can take some solace in a nice little best-of set called Storyteller, Philosopher, Poet: Kudos to compiler Robert K. Oermann for including lesser-known gems “A Million Miles to the City” and “Mama Bake A Pie (Daddy Kill A Chicken).” Those wishing to delve deeper can search for two remarkable Bear Family two-fers, one of which holds the 100 Children and I Witness Life albums while the other compiles the Ballad of Forty Dollars and Homecoming song-sets.

  Charley Pride—Buddha’s Charley Pride: RCA Country Legends is no joke, and neither is the splendid Live at Panther Hall reissue (which is, admittedly, harder to find).