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Merle Haggard: Okie From Bakersfield
April 7, 2016

The only thing that I miss lately in all music is somebody that will put out a melody that you can whistle. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything happening like that. —Merle Haggard

charles il etbetter - merle haggard: okie from bakersfield

Merle Haggard’s music touched lives in ways that will effect generations, even if they never knew him

I’m not sure there’s anyone who was raised in or around Oklahoma during the 1960s and 70s that doesn’t have a Merle Haggard story. Even if they never actually saw the man in person, his music affected Oklahoma and the people who live there even now. Never mind that he wasn’t actually born there. His song Okie From Muskogee gave both the town and the state a reputation it still tries desperately to hold onto, even though Haggard himself shifted and became more liberal over time. His songs struck a nerve with people who struggled to find jobs, to work the land, to stay out of jail, or to stay sober. That was Oklahoma then, and in many ways is Oklahoma now. As news of his death spread across the Internet yesterday, the stories began to appear. I saved mine until today.

I met Haggard twice, neither time with a camera available. The first time was when I was 13, a scrawny, shy little kid with glasses. We were in Tulsa for one reason or another and as we came out of a restaurant there he was, standing on the sidewalk with what I assume were some of his band members. Mother recognized him and whispered to Poppa, “That’s Merle Haggard!” She was trying to be discreet, but that never was one of Mother’s better traits. The song man heard her and walked over to say hi.

Haggard was still young then. I remember the dark, curly hair sticking out from under his black hat. His smile was big and friendly. When he shook my hand, though, his skin felt rough and dry, like someone much older, someone who was used to doing hard labor. I also picked up on a distinct aroma, one which I wouldn’t be able to identify for a few more years. Yeah, never mind what the song says, Merle was about as big a pot smoker as Willie, he just didn’t make as big a deal about it.

Merle had a distinct sound, one of those you could recognize the instant the record started playing. He didn’t go in for the studio string section that was popular in Nashville. He kept his music real, guitar-centered, a touch of banjo, with a little bit of steel thrown in at just the right place. He didn’t need to do any vocal tricks, he just sang a song with a good melody, one you could whistle if you wanted. He told stories that resonated not only in Oklahoma but all across the country. Whether it was the 60s or 2010, he had a connection with how people felt and a unique way of putting that into song.

The man never shied away from being honest about his opinions or his politics. While conservatives loved him in the 70s, he didn’t feel any loyalty to a party and his views shifted more to the left as he grew older. In a 2010 interview with Patrick Doyle for Rolling Stone, Haggard made a statement that caught his more conservative fans by surprise.

t’s really almost criminal what they do with our President. There seems to be no shame or anything. They call him all kinds of names all day long, saying he’s doing certain things that he’s not. It’s just a big old political game that I don’t want to be part of. There are people spending their lives putting him down. I’m sure some of it’s true and some of it’s not. I was very surprised to find the man very humble and he had a nice handshake. His wife was very cordial to the guests and especially me. They made a special effort to make me feel welcome. It was not at all the way the media described him to be.

He also became a more outspoken of the legalization of marijuana. In a different interview that same year, Haggard said:

Well, I’m kinda like George Carlin. I think that there ought to be a time where everybody should have all the drugs they want and there’d be nobody in charge, sort of like… now! 

The second time I met Merle was back in 2001, outside a club just North of Atlanta called Cowboys. I was on my way home and recognized Waylon Jenning’s vehicle parked next to the tour bus. Waylon hadn’t been doing well and I was rather surprised to see him out, so I pulled into the parking lot and as I got out of the car Waylon and Merle stepped out of the bus. Haggard’s hair was grayer, of course, but his eyes still sparkled, his smile just as broad, and his handshake just as real. He was in the middle of touring and had just stopped by for a moment to see Waylon, an old friend. Regrettably, I was on a tight schedule and couldn’t stay to listen to them swap stories.

Country music today is barely a shadow of what it was back when Haggard was consistently at the top of the charts. Music has changed, the industry has changed, and the world is a very different place. Still, he never stopped. Haggard’s songs remained real, relatable, and as country as the red clay of Oklahoma, which is saying something for a boy raised in a boxcar in Bakersfield.

Farewell, Merle. Thanks for all the music.

https://youtu.be/n4AgZST_TG8

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Music  /  PotD
A Little Bit Country
March 26, 2016
charles i. letbetter - a little bit country

I write some country music. There’s a song called ‘I Hope You Dance.’ Incredible. I was going to write that poem; somebody beat me to it. —Maya Angelou

 

charles i. letbetter 0 a little bit country

Listening to country music means being in a certain emotional place and giving your ears fair warning.

Patsy Cline. Little Jimmy Dickens. Charlie Pride. Conway Twitty. Hank Williams, Sr.

I’m listening to some country music as we make final preparations for my youngest son to visit later today. We’re excited. This is the first time in eleven years that any of my boys have been able to come to Indianapolis. So, we’ve made sure that my schedule is clear, that there are chips and soft drinks readily available for snacking, and that the refrigerator is well stocked. We’re looking forward to a lot of fun. There’s just one thing I’ve not yet warned Kat about: he listens to country music.

I’ll admit, the country/rock fence isn’t one I mind straddling. I was born at a wonderful time for music, back when radio was alive with some truly great sounds. I cut my teeth on the Beatles, learned to ride my bike with Peter, Paul, and Mary coming through the kitchen window, and learned to drive with the Doobie Brothers blasting from the stereo in the car. When our parents were gone, or not exactly paying attention, my brother and I were playing KISS, AC/DC, The Rolling Stones, and Three Dog Night on the console stereo in the back room. The music with which we grew up was nothing short of fantastic, which is why many of those songs are still alive and those bands are touring, even though their members pop blood pressure meds and swig Geritol instead of the more nefarious contents of the past.

At the same time, though, we were raised on a good balance of classic country music. Some of my favorite memories are sitting at the tiny little breakfast table in Towanda, Kansas and listening to Hank Williams, Roy Acuff, and Flatt & Scruggs on KFDI, 1070 AM, out of Wichita. Mother would sing along as she was cooking bacon or gently frying eggs sunny side up. We might listen to Foreigner or Boston in the afternoon, but the mornings belonged to Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Dolly Parton, and The Oak Ridge Boys.

So yeah, I can enjoy a touch of country music as long as I am mentally prepared for it. One has to be in a special emotional place to listen to country music. The sad ballads common to artist such as Bobby Goldsboro and George Jones can kill even the happiest buzz. If you’re too depressed, a bit of Bill Monroe might just make a person suicidal. One also has to warn their ears that they are about to be assaulted. If you are accustomed to hearing pure, clear, well-trained vocal tones, a bit of Ricky Skaggs or Ronnie Milsap might come as a bit of a shock. If one listens to country all the time, it’s no big deal, your ears are desensitized. For the rest of us though, the sound requires a moment of auditory adjustment no matter how much we like it.

Which brings us to my biggest concern for the week. While I don’t have any problem with any of the artists I’ve mentioned, and will make everyone in the room observe a moment of silence when Allison Krauss goes “Down To The River To Pray,” my dear son listens to contemporary country. This could be a problem. I prefer classic country. Blake Shelton is about the newest artist I can handle, and that’s pretty much only because I still remember that boy when he was playing county fairs in Oklahoma. I tried listening to Luke Bryan’s latest song a while ago and had to turn it off after four bars. What if he wants to listen to that Zac Brown Band or Dustin Lynch? I can deal with some Rascal Flatts, but I’m not so sure about Brantley Gilbert or Maddie & Tae.

I understand, music never stays the same. Our parents didn’t understand any of the music we listened to, which was probably a good thing. My parents could go to a different room when we were playing REO Speedwagon or Jefferson Starship. The house here is smaller, though. There’s no place to escape. I want my son to feel comfortable and at home, but if he asks to listen to Maren Morris I’m not sure how I’m going to respond (is that actually a clap track at the beginning of that song?).

Fortunately, there’s so much more to my son than his music choices. We’re going to have a great week with him and I’m sure you’ll see me mention my favorite G-man more than once this week. I’m looking forward to showing him around Indianapolis and having a good time. We’ll eat Long’s Donuts and drink coffee at Lino’s and I might even introduce him to Mug & Bun. I wouldn’t even mind if he were to meet an attractive and friendly female friend while he’s here.

The music, though … maybe we’ll just leave the radio on NPR this week.

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Music
Steven Tyler: Where Country & Rock Collide
January 24, 2016
charles i. letbetter - Steven Tyler: Country and Rock Collide

The things that come to those that wait may be the things left by those that got there first.— Steven Tyler

 

charles i. letbetter - steven tyler: country & rock collide

Rock and Country music have been getting closer to the same sound for over 30 years

Steven Tyler is an iconic image in the music world. Sometimes referred to as “everyone’s favorite grandmother” because of the striped hair and plethora of flowing scarves, the former Aerosmith frontman presents a character unlike any other in any music genre. I mean, come on, who else would be wandering around New York City in the middle of a blizzard with his daughter, and then take over a CNN live report? The dude may look like a lady from time to time, but he is so totally unique both in sight and in sound as to be instantly recognizable even if he were to try his hand at opera.

While the Met stage may not be currently within his sites, though, Steven Tyler has set his eyes firmly upon the country music market. He announced last year that his next album would be country, but his first single from that album, Love Is Your Name, failed to generate a tremendous amount of excitement. Perhaps the sound was too smooth. Perhaps country fans just weren’t interested. Whatever the reason, response was more of a bored yawn than what typically accompanies the rocker’s new releases.

If at first you don’t succeed, drop a second single, which is exactly what Tyler did this past week. The new single, Red, White & You, certainly sounds more country with a clear taste of fiddle and banjo in the band, but this is still Steven Tyler’s voice. He even starts the song with his signature whoop. So, while the lyrics go on about the Fourth of July and Tom Petty and all those other themes that seem standard in a contemporary country song, the sound one hears still resembles that which we’ve associated with Aerosmith and rock and roll for the past 40 years.

Country music fans are going to be divided, as they have been for quite a while. Traditional country fans more closely identify with what the Grammy’s categorize as “American Roots” music, that acoustic-driven, old-school, nasal-toned, boot-and-stetson-wearing sound of Willie, Waylon, and the boys. There’s is the sound defined by Hank Williams, Sr., Little Jimmy Dickens, and Roy Acuff. Yet, even there we’ve seen some crossover. One of the artists nominated for this year’s Grammy for best American Roots song is none other than the Eagles’ Don Henley singing with country legend Merle Haggard.

Contemporary country has been courting rock music for a while. Think back to Garth Brooks and the controversy his rock-driven sound created some thirty-plus years ago. This week’s Billboard country chart includes artists such as Luke Bryan, Sam Hunt, and LoCash whose heavily produced songs don’t sound all that different from 80s and early 90s rock. Even artists once considered staunchly country, such as Carrie Underwood and Taylor Swift, have more of a pop sound now than anything that might have once been considered anywhere close to old-fashioned country.

Obviously, music genres don’t stay the same forever; they change and evolve just like everything else on the planet. If Steven Tyler wants to call his new album country music, why stop him? After all, Aerosmith fans have grown older; we don’t rock as hard as we did in the 70s and 80s. Country music may be more our speed. At the same time, however, there’s a lot of tradition in country music that could be lost if the genre continues to merge so closely with rock that one has difficulty telling the difference.

I’m not the one to make the final call. I’ll put the link below and let you listen for yourself. Just remember that when one blends Country and Rock, what you get is a Crock, as in: full of …

 

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