Forgotten Music

I have worked in radio since 1976, but the vast majority of my career has been in country music.

I find it interesting some of the questions people ask me when they learn of my profession. I’ve addressed them in previous columns, but one I didn’t get to has always struck me as curious.

Do you even like country music?

It’s not a weird question, and I have worked in formats before where the music was not my favorite, but I really enjoy the process of communicating and creating a show that people like to spend time with.

My first job was playing country music, and I’m from Alabama, so that’s not unusual at all. And yes, I have always enjoyed country music and I still do today.

And let me be clear, I have no preconceptions or judgements as to what is country music and what isn’t. I have enjoyed all of it, and the thing I love about this format is how varied it is.

History is interesting to me. I still hear from people who say they don’t like country music because of the “twang”. I’m totally good with twang.

I bought a Jimmie Rodgers anthology; he was the first big star of the genre, and it sounds strange to modern ears. But in my opinion, he defined what country music was for an entire generation and made it popular all across the nation. It’s even more interesting to me that Jimmie battled illness all his life, and knew he would die young, and boy did he pack a lot into his short life, dying at just 35.

The most influential guitarist for the format was not a young hotshot with a sneer or a grizzled blues veteran. It was a middle-aged mother named Maybelle Carter. She used her thumb to play the bass strings and plucked the melody with her fingers. Standard stuff today, but revolutionary when she was one of the format’s stars from the 1920s through the 1950s. And she ended up being Johnny Cash’s mother-in-law.

I grew up with the music of the '60s, with Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn. But I go down rabbit holes of the stars we have forgotten about today. Wendell Mobley has written some of Kenny Chesney’s biggest hits, and Rascal Flatts, too. But I found out he played guitar for Jack Greene, and we had a fun conversation.. Jack Greene, according to my father, the ugliest man to ever have a voice that pretty. Go listen to Statue Of A Fool or There Goes My Everything. Jack was from the part of country music that valued crooning, or in my words, people who could really sing. Jim Reeves was in that category, as were Ray Price, Ray Charles, and Jim Ed Brown.

As a history buff, I got to share with Wendell how Jack Greene was the drummer for the legendary Bob Wills. Bob liked to drink and had a temper, a bad combo, and he kicked Jack off the bus in the middle of nowhere when Jack asked when they were going to get paid. Wendell said, Well, that explains why he was always so hard on our drummer.

I am obsessed with Marty Robbins. He was a crooner too, but his voice was different than the sultry tones of Jim Reeves or Ray Price. It was beautiful, but still had an edge to it. The song that got me into country music was Jimmy Dean’s Big Bad John, but if I had to pick a favorite song of all time, it would be hard for me not to choose El Paso by Marty Robbins.

There are certain songs no one will ever have a hit with again, because it has been sung. No one will ever have a hit with Walking After Midnight, cause Patsy has sung it. Friends In Low Places. Amarillo By Morning. Whoever’s In New England. All the same. And no one has even tried to sing El Paso, because Marty Robbins sang all of it, and it can’t be sung no more, damn it.

I am also fascinated that, like Jimmie Rodgers, Marty knew he was not long for this world. He had always battled a bad heart, but that didn’t stop him from racing NASCAR, starring in movies, and playing at the White House. Johnny Cash called him the best country music singer ever. He did wring 22 more years of life out of his ride than Jimmie Rodgers did, dying on the operating table after having his third heart attack at the age of 57.

The 70s in country music are often viewed with disdain because the sound had started to lean toward a pop music flavor. I am not one of those who look down on it, and I loved a lot of songs from the 70s.

You may remember My Maria from Brooks and Dunn, but the original was from a guy named B.W. Stevenson, and it was awesome. Ronnie Milsap thrived in the 70s, and I remember we always looked forward to his records at the radio station, because they consistently came in a different color, while everyone else just issued black vinyl. Ronnie Milsap was the man in the 70s, and had a string of #1s on both the pop and country charts.

Jim Stafford was a big star in the 70s; his song Spiders And Snakes led to him having his own TV show. He married the very enigmatic Bobbie Gentry. She is worth a column all on her own. Her song Ode To Billie Joe was a monster hit, and you may not know this, but Reba McEntire’s version of Fancy is a remake. Bobbie Gentry wrote it and recorded it. She also created the shows you see in Vegas now; that was her idea. She made a lot of money from that acumen alone. Bobbie was an amazing businesswoman. She owned the Phoenix Suns basketball team till 1987. To be honest, she probably still is. She and Stafford had a son together, and her last public appearance was at the Academy of Country Music Awards in 1982. She disappeared after that, no interviews, no shows, no nothing. Just walked away. How cool is that?

Kenny Rogers was arguably the biggest star in music in the late 70s to early 80s. My first exposure was with his group, The First Edition, and their hit “I Just Dropped In To See What Condition My Condition Was In” and then heard the Mel Tillis remake of “Ruby Don’t Take Your Love To Town”, which honestly is better than Mel’s version. Rogers made it feel desperate and sad. He went on to amazing success as a solo artist, selling over 100 million records. But mention him to someone under 30 and chances are you’ll get a blank stare.

I guess the takeaway is that fame is fleeting.

A pastor once proclaimed in a sermon that in 100 years, 99% of us will be forgotten. Think about that, heck, think about your great-great-great grandparents. They were alive probably 100 years ago. Now you Ancestry.com junkies may know their life stories, but the majority of us don’t. I barely know the names of my grandparents. My defense is that they had died before I was born. But still.

And my great-grandparents? Get real. Could have been Skippy and Tiffany for all I know.

Bunches of acts from the 70s have faded into history. Ronnie McDowell was known for his Elvis sound. Dave and Sugar, country music’s answer to Tony Orlando and Dawn. Janie Fricke, a backup singer who made it to the front microphone. Lacy J. Dalton brought a raspy blues feel to the party. Johnny Rodriguez rode his Thumb To Mexico. He could sing, and was so handsome that even in the segregated South I grew up in, women of all races would call him dreamy.

People have forgotten that both Olivia Newton-John and John Denver started in country music. Pop stars like Jerry Lee Lewis and Brenda Lee ended up in the format.

Donna Fargo was the Happiest Girl In The Whole USA. Kris Kristofferson proved you didn’t really have to carry a tune as long as the lyrics were brilliant. Canadian Anne Murray had a pitch-perfect voice reminiscent of Karen Carpenter, and that’s a huge compliment.

The biggest star of the 70s was Barbara Mandrell. It’s hard to overstate that. Sleeping Single In A Double Bed, and If Loving You Was Wrong I Don’t Want To Be Right were two of her biggest hits of the decade. Country When Country Wasn’t Cool didn’t hit till 1981. She had a huge variety show on TV. Barbara actually opened for Patsy Cline. I may have to write a column just on her alone.

Every decade has songs that I still enjoy today. The ‘50s were the heart of twang, carrying over to the ‘60s with crooning starting to emerge. The pop sound burst out in the ‘70s. The least talked about era is the ‘80s, so I feel a column coming on that era too!

There’s your answer. Yes, I love country music. All kinds. Don’t even get me started on bluegrass, cause there’s a deep passion for it in my heart. How about you? Do you have a forgotten star that you still love, though no one else recalls them? Share it with me, and you may inspire another column. I’ll happily give you credit!