The River Runs North is a music video and general crankiness blog ~ depending upon my mood.
I like to talk about (and watch) music performances, and I also enjoy being cranky.
I also like to comment on popular music, which sometimes leads to crankiness, but generally not.
A word of advice, first of all. Don't let your email go a week without checking it, because then you will find that you've got 50 new emails, and it's hell trying to weed through them all.
So, tonight I thought I would tackle the whole email project, and I found emails from a variety of sources, many of them music related; all trying to sell me something.
Broadjam - a FREE year's membership! If I want to submit any songs for their "opportunities", however, it'll cost me $20.00 per submission.
MusicSubmit - get 450 submissions when I order the "200 Package". The 200 package is only $69.95 (all major credit cards accepted!)
Join Taxi and learn how to write better songs! Only $299.95! Okay, been there, done that. Still paying off the $299.95.
ASCAP Inside Music - last day to enter the Sing-to-Win Contest (whatever that is). And get three months free of the Musician's Atlas. Oops, missed the deadline. Dang it. And that Musician's Atlas is a valuable keepsake.
I also learned that the new Music Publisher Registry is priceless (bet not). Don't know how much it really is, but what in the world would I do with that?
So, I thought I would just send a shout-out to all you music business entrepreneurs out there:
I HAVE NO MONEY.
More useful to me were the emails from Marlboro (sorry, non-smoking zealots), inviting me to enter daily to win a prize, or the New Belgium Beer (never even knew there was such a thing) contest to win a Schwinn (daily entry!)
My odds are better with Marlboro and New Belgium, and hey! Entry is free!
Look, I'm getting kind of tired of saying this, but I'll say it again:
YOU PAY ME.
That's how it's supposed to work. If my music is really worth as much as you claim it is, then PAY ME.
Or just leave me alone, and let me watch all the YouTube video links that my friends keep sending me, that aren't really very funny, but I have to watch them, so I can send my friends a nice "ha ha - cute!" reply.
Milestones are often tough, because they remind us of our own mortality.
Three milestones this week, and the week's not even over!
Let me start at the beginning and work my way backwards (if that makes any sense).
In the late seventies, I abandoned my one true love, country music, for reasons that I've documented in the past, and I won't bore you with now. I switched my radio dial over to the rock station, and I tuned my TV to MTV (when MTV was still actually broadcasting music!)
Sure, I'd been familiar with the Jackson Five. Didn't do a lot for me. But it seemed that one of the "Five" (the main one) had decided to set out on his own. And what a "set out" that proved to be!
I was a young mother, sitting at home, raising the babies, watching TV, cuz there really was no money to do anything except watch TV. I watched music videos, and saw one that really caught my attention:
So, I was a true admirer of Michael Jackson. Who wouldn't be? Sure, there was a bunch of weird stuff that came later, but as judgmental as I was at the time, I don't even want to rehash that now.
Working my way forward (by going backwards), I'm led to this:
I'd never been a "Charlie's Angels" fan. Who was, really? Sure, my nephew had the poster on his wall, and I spent a strange night visiting my sister and sleeping in my nephew's bed, with that stupid poster staring down at me, but that was really neither here nor there.
But Ann Rule? I could get on board with that. I was always a big Ann Rule fan, and therefore I'd read her book, "Small Sacrifices" and had been eternally haunted by it.
Well, when Farrah made the TV movie, and so eerily portrayed Diane Downs, I was spellbound. That's what I will remember Farrah for. That and the recent documentary, that I forced myself to watch, because it seem so exploitative. But I'm glad now that I did watch it, because I realized what a courageous and loving person Farrah was (Ryan O'Neal not withstanding).
Oh, and here's the poster (for those who care):
I'm old enough to remember when she was Farrah Fawcett-Majors. Farrah led a long, yet short life. Her passing makes me feel sad.
Pretty much, from the time that I started to form memories, I remember The Tonight Show.
Johnny Carson was a constant in my life. In the summers, when school was out, I'd stay up and watch The Tonight Show. Johnny was the best late-night TV host there will ever be.
But, you know, every genius needs his foil, and Ed McMahon was Johnny's foil.
Take a look at this:
Who can forget this?
And, of course, Carnac the Magnificent:
So, I guess, three decades. The sixties, seventies, and eighties. All wrapped up in one sad week. How damn often does that happen? Never?
I'm feeling melancholy tonight. It's hard enough to grieve for one person, but three? And I guess what I'm really grieving for is the times that are gone. I can't recapture these times, and I didn't even realize how poignant they were. At the time.
It's hard to have a Father's Day without a father.
If my dad was still alive, he'd be 85 years old. And he'd still be as exasperating and silly as he always was.
My dad was a character. There are no two ways about it. I'll never know anyone like him, because there just isn't anyone like him.
The stuff that makes me me, I got mostly from my dad.
One of my earliest memories of my dad is sitting and watching him shave. He had that old-fashioned straight razor, and he'd be looking in the mirror and singing one of the latest tunes he'd heard on the radio. "Catch A Falling Star" was a favorite. I sat there like a star-struck fan, just watching my dad shave.......and sing.
My dad was always singing......or whistling. He was a great whistler.
In my early years, my dad was a farmer. He worked really hard, from before sunup to after sundown. But he'd always drive the tractor into the yard at lunchtime, so I'd be waiting in the yard by the house; waiting for him to drive in. And I'd run out to meet him. He'd scoop me up in his arms and carry me to the kitchen.
My dad had six kids, but in so many ways, I think I am the one most like him.
My dad was the eternal optimist. Even in light of hard evidence to the contrary, he always believed that things would work out okay. Or he just figured that it wasn't worth worrying about. That's me.
He lived for small pleasures. He found endless humor in the absurd. Problem was, if he found something funny, he just wouldn't let it go. And it would leave the rest of us scratching our heads, because we didn't quite "get" what was so funny.
Remember that commercial about the Roach Motel? "Roaches check in, but they don't check out"? For some reason, he just found that to be hilarious. And he'd endlessly quote it. I could postulate that it was because, after many years of farming, my mom and dad went into business by buying a motel, so maybe that was the connection. But I still don't really get why that was so funny.
But we'd all laugh, just because it was funny that he was laughing about it. Humor in the absurd.
By no means was life a bowl of cherries for my dad. First of all, he worked really hard. There wasn't much money in the early days, and my folks got by on credit, until the harvest came in.
So, he really appreciated the small moments. Picnics in the backyard; a can of Grain Belt. A pack of Belairs in his pocket.
And then there was the inherited disease. Alcoholism. It kind of ran rampant in my dad's family, and my dad was not immune.
It didn't really get bad until the late sixties. Leaving the farm and going into business was perhaps a financial boon, but not an emotional one. Left to his own devices (and unfortunately running a bar as part of the motel complex), my dad didn't want to make his patrons feel lonely, so he'd pour himself a tall glass of whatever they were having.
As one can imagine, one thing led to another, and life got bad. Lots of drama; lots of heartache.
Finally, in 1976, my dad owned up. He knew what he had to do, and although he was sort of led, kicking and screaming, he entered treatment for the third time and got his life back.
After that, he read his twelve-step book every day. He became a sponsor. I have my dad's twelve-step book. It's one of the few things I have that belonged to him.
For the rest of his life, he never took another drink. And life was still good. He still laughed about stupid stuff. He still got tickled by things that the rest of us didn't get.
My mom and dad sold the business and retired at a relatively young age. My dad took up gardening (a flash to the farming years). He complained about the rabbits eating his lettuce.
He sat in his blue recliner with his stained coffee mug, and watched Johnny Carson, and smoked, smoked, smoked his Belairs.
He'd been in a car accident (with a Model T? or a Model A? One of those models) just before he'd gotten married. His hearing was permanently damaged, so we all dealt with his mishearing, misunderstanding stuff all through the years, but it got progressively worse as time went on. He wore hearing aids, but they didn't help a whole lot.
The thing was, if he misheard something, he'd just make up something else. He'd come up with the most absurd interpretations of what someone had said; one just knew that he was messing with us.
"Richard, do you want more coffee?"
"Toffee? You know I can't eat toffee!"
It was like Emily Latella, and just as calculated.
When Alzheimer's settled over him like a soft blanket, he'd still sit in his recliner late at night, but now he'd carry on conversations with his imaginary friend, long after my mom had gone to bed for the night.
We came to visit and stayed overnight in the spare bedroom, and as I lay in bed, I could hear him talking in the living room. I fell asleep that night to the sound of my dad's voice. It felt gentle; soothing. Just like I was a little girl again.
After my dad passed away, I sat in my rocking chair on the weekends and played Ray Price over and over. It made me happy, because I felt that Dad was there with me, and telling me, in his gentle, soothing voice; "It's all right".
Soft rain was falling When you said goodbye Thunder and lightening Filled my heart inside A love born in heaven Had suddenly died And the soft rain was teardrops For the angels all cried
Happy Father's Day to all you dads. And to all you daughters and sons.
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.....
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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.
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.
$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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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).
I am a songwriter and a singer, and a mean strummer of approximately four different guitar chords.
I am one third of an eclectic band of singer/songwriters, who have recorded some great songs, but haven't actually performed any of them in person.
Everyone in the band has their niche, and mine is managing our internet presence.
Thus, this blog began.
A word of advice, first of all. Don't let your email go a week without checking it, because then you will find that you've got 50 new emails, and it's hell trying to weed through them all.
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