Country Music Blog: 2007 December

There’s not much going on in country music this week, so I’m living in the past – flipping through a stack of stories I wrote this year for CMT.com. No wonder I am ready for a long winter’s nap.

I take it for granted sometimes, but I confess that it’s pretty neat to visit with musicians I admire, like Dierks Bentley and Trisha Yearwood. You have to be smart to make it in this business, so if you come at them with the right questions, country singers almost always rise to the occasion. I also enjoyed chatting on the phone with Patty Griffin, Merle Haggard and Emmylou Harris – who wouldn’t?

Awards shows get to be kind of routine (and dull) for music reporters, but sometimes an artist will deliver a great performance that you can’t get out of your head. That happened to me at the Americana Honors, when Buddy Miller sang this new song by his wife Julie. Months later, I am still obsessed with this song, which doesn’t even have a name. Nevertheless, it’s stuck in my head, and I’m OK with that.

So, where have I been? First was Keith Urban in Chicago. Then SXSW in Austin and the ACMs in Las Vegas. I saw Brad Paisley check Chattanooga for "Ticks." On a trip to Virginia Beach, I reviewed Alan Jackson/Brooks & Dunn, along with an Alison Krauss/Tony Rice concert in North Carolina that same weekend. Bonnaroo was a trip, so to speak. Wynonna sang in Atlanta, Sugarland in South Carolina and Garth Brooks in Kansas City. I also kicked back in some cool bars, including Station Inn, Mean Eyed Cat, Gruene Hall, Carol’s Pub and the Longbranch Saloon. After running in my first Hood to Coast relay, I spent nearly two weeks in Oregon on vacation, checking out the breweries. So beautiful. Can’t wait to get back there.

On the personal side, I conquered my first official marathon (26.2 miles) this year in Louisville, Ky., as well as the 100-mile 3-State-3-Mountain Challenge bike ride and the Chattanooga Waterfront Triathlon. With fitness on the brain almost all year long, I inevitably found myself asking artists about staying in shape. To read those stories, and many others, visit our new CMT Lifestyles Blog.

May 2008 be your best year ever!

My father always says, “Home is where you hang your hat.” Though my hat now hangs in Nashville, I still feel as though my real home is a small town in Illinois. Yes, that same small town that I couldn’t wait to someday leave is now the place that I’ve come to appreciate and miss. I have no regrets of moving to Nashville and luckily even with the over half a million people who also hang their hats here, it somehow still feels inviting. But I have to say, I am thankful for my small town upbringing and way of life. It’s made me who I am.
 
I suppose the same is for Alan Jackson, who once hung his cowboy hat in the small town of Newnan, Ga. Inspired by his father and small town roots, Jackson wrote his current single about a “Small Town Southern Man,” his family and their beliefs. Like so many of his previous singles -- “Little Bitty,” “Where I Come From,” “Drive (For Daddy Gene),” just to name a few -- Jackson poetically highlights his Southern upbringing through song.

"Like his daddy, years wore out his body
Made it hard just to walk and stand
You can break the back
But you can’t break the spirit
Of a small town Southern man"

His latest video takes place in an old dance hall in Williamsport, Tenn. Different generations are portrayed throughout the scenes dancing along as Jackson provides the one-of-a-kind entertainment. (Notice how he sheds his mustache early in the video to look more like the 40s era.). Jackson’s true talent keeps him grounded in a constantly changing country music scene. This delightful yet simple video, matched with his rich voice and graceful lyrics, will relate to the millions of small town Southern men and women like you and me. For those of us who have at some point hung our hats in a small town, we tip them to you, Alan.

I just finished this fantastic book called The Year of Living Biblically. The author, A.J. Jacobs, goes on an absurd quest to follow the Bible literally for an entire year. So it makes me wonder if I, a devout country music fan, could ever take the lyrics literally for a year. With 2008 about to begin, this may be the best time to start. While Jacobs attempts, with non-stop hilarity, to do things like play a ten-string harp, stone Sabbath violators, avoid impure women and stop reading the Amazon.com reviews about his first book, the laws set forth by Nashville would be much easier to obey. How hard could it be to live by the gospel according to, say, Brad Paisley? That’s much more palatable than doing things because the Old Testament told you so.

Since I don’t have a book deal, my experiment needn’t be so controlled. Yes, I’d drink sweet tea like Billy Currington, but I wouldn’t sell turnip greens. Following Paisley’s advice, I’d have to trade in my minivan for a pick-up truck, then get a little mud on the tires. I would do so in the official uniform of country music: bikini top, miniskirt and cowboy boots. (I’d draw the line at those Trace Adkins-inspired badonkadonk short-shorts.) Then, taking a cue from Alan Jackson’s “Everything I Love,” I’d drink more Jack Daniels. This would make it easier to cheat on my husband, which I’d do by following the lyrics of Miranda Lambert’s “Guilty in Here.” If he cheated on me, however, and gave me that Collin Raye song-and-dance about “that’s my story and I’m sticking to it,” I’d get to see how Carrie Underwood felt, by taking a Louisville Slugger to some little homewrecker’s SUV. Should my marriage survive all that carousing, and boys start coming around to date my daughters, I’d either remind my husband that he himself was just a hayseed plowboy (as Trisha Yearwood sang) or tell the young man (as Rodney Atkins does) that we’d be at home, cleaning our gun.

I know there are different levels of interpretation of country music, much like the Bible. Not everything’s meant to be taken literally. But when you explore the relevance of the lyrics, it’s hard to argue with hunting, fishing, frying chickens and putting an extra five in the plate at church. Who’s with me?

One CD from 2007 that refuses to give up its place in my player is an album that is impossible to categorize. I find that’s often, these days, more and more of a good sign. In this case, it’s by a singer who’s never been locked into any one musical box, which I am also finding a good thing. The voice in question belongs to Kim Richey and Chinese Boxes is her first new studio release in some five years.

It’s always a delight seeing her sing live and also talking with her. She stopped in earlier this year at CMT to film Unplugged at Studio 330 so I got a chance to catch up on things. She’s been spending a lot of time in London, and you can hear that on the new CD. For one thing, it was produced by Giles Martin, the son of Beatles producer George Martin, but also a musical force in his own right, with works by Kate Bush and, especially, the classical singer Hayley Westenra. The younger Martin has also co-produced, with his father, the Beatles’ Love project.

With Chinese Boxes, Martin and Richey achieved a pure-sounding sort of timeless, classic pop sound that evokes the purity of the Beatles’ mid-to-late career work. Richey writes with collaborators who match her musical vision, such as Mindy Smith and Joan Osborne. The title song, written by Richey with Swan Dive's Bill DeMain, is a charming allegory comparing a relationship to the intricate, nesting Chinese boxes. “Drift,” written by Richey and Smith, is an ethereal love song. But go and listen to some of Richey herself. I recommend you begin with her CMT Unplugged at Studio 330 session.

As we cruise into 2008, nearly every media outlet is offering a list -- sometimes lots of lists -- of the best and worst that the past year brought us.

The very first thing that 2007 brought, at least on CMT, was the New Year’s Day debut of Tim McGraw’s video, "Last Dollar (Fly Away)." The song’s genesis actually dates back five years to New Year’s Eve 2002, and since the change of the calendar is generally a time of reflection and taking stock, the history of “Last Dollar” is particularly worth revisiting.

Big Kenny Alphin, of Big & Rich, wrote it. As the story goes, he was in debt way over his ears, thanks to a solo recording career that hadn’t had the commercial success he’d anticipated. He was $140,000 in debt and had all of $200 in his pockets when he hit the blackjack tables in Las Vegas, hoping for some luck. He got it, but in a less-than-obvious manner. Big Kenny lost nearly all of his money, left the dealer a $20 tip and ended up with just one George Washington in his wallet.

Where’s the luck? Well, if nothing else, Big Kenny is an optimist. With that single dollar to his name, he laughed in the face of financial danger, saw his situation as one of freedom from possession and penned a reminder that when things are down-in-the-depths bad, they can only get better. It’s a perspective that’s been written about before by everyone from Bob Dylan (“Like a Rolling Stone”), John Lennon (“Imagine”) and the Atlanta Rhythm Section’s J.R. Cobb (author of Wynonna’s “Rock Bottom”).

For Big Kenny, that viewpoint has played out quite well. Big & Rich, with its unconventional blending of hard rock, funk, rap and mainstream country, became an unlikely success. He’s reaped some nice financial rewards in the process and shown an admirable sense of responsibility by giving back some of those earnings through his efforts in Darfur.

Ultimately, as you evaluate 2007 and peer into 2008, the lessons of “Last Dollar (Fly Away)” are excellent things to keep in mind. No matter what the last year brought, the next one could be entirely different. Whether your last 12 months were a huge success, a total disaster or something in between, tomorrow is indeed another day.

Nashville is sparkling this Christmas season as it always does. The Nutcracker is shimmering at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center, the Rockettes are kicking high in their Santa costumes at Opryland and every suburban street is a canyon of colored lights. But it was an event of less wattage I’ll remember when I think back on this particular holiday.

On a chilly, overcast evening a week ago, I drove to a bar near downtown Nashville to do my part for a charity whose name and goals I have since forgotten. Tara La’Dell, a singer from Georgia by way of New York, was going to provide the entertainment, backed by the justly celebrated pianist and producer John Hobbs. When I got there, the bar was still packed by a boisterous after-work crowd, and La’Dell was still making last-minute stage adjustments. I grabbed a beer, found a table and waited for the show to start.

Finally, La’Dell came on stage and announced that she would be performing a program of Christmas songs. This was not news that delighted me, nor, apparently, did it please several people at the bar who settled their tabs and shuffled out. I had heard La’Dell sing before and knew she could deliver the goods. But after being besieged incessantly by piped-in carols at every mall I had slogged through, I certainly wasn’t in the mood to hear more of them.

I shouldn’t have worried. Nodding to Hobbs, La’Dell leaned back against a tall stool and let her seasonal enthusiasms pour out as though she were expressing them for the first time. Out came “White Christmas” and “O, Little Town of Bethlehem,” “Silent Night” and “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” And out spiraled the memories of pressing my ear to the radio in our remote farm house in West Virginia and hearing those same tunes, of linking the songs to uncles and cousins still fighting in World War II and wondering if they’d ever be home for another Christmas. The guys at the bar, seated with their backs to the stage, gradually turned to face the glorious music. A waitress who’d been buzzing about stopped at a table to listen intently as La’Dell journeyed on through “Sleigh Ride,” “Jingle Bells” and “Jingle Bell Rock.”

Before I knew it an hour had passed and La’Dell was bowing and beaming to the crowd’s applause. Looking past the bar and through the barely translucent front door, I could imagine snow was falling and that I was young again. And so I did.

All year long, I listen to every CD that comes my way – so you don’t have to! Anyway, here’s a list of songs I couldn’t get enough of in 2007, and the reasons why.

1. “Missing You,” Alison Krauss & John Waite – Something about the way he sings the line “You don’t know how desperate I’ve become...”

2. “The Story,” Brandi Carlile – You know that part where she kind of screams? I love that.

3. “Hard Edges,” Chris Knight – A little girl’s dreams of becoming a dancer come true, sort of.

4. “Talking in Your Sleep,” Crystal Gayle – I was late to find this classic. Even when he’s asleep, he can’t say the right thing.

5. “In a Perfect World,” Gene Watson – With so many things going wrong for him, you’ll feel better about your own life.

6. “Falling Slowly,” Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova – My favorite song from my favorite scene in my favorite movie, Once.

7. “Love is a Battlefield,” Jann Arden – I was always too busy finger-snapping on Pat Benatar’s version to realize what a heavy, intense lyric this has.

8. “Pistol Packin’ Mama,” John Prine & Mac Wiseman – Cracks me up every time, and I get a kick out of whoever’s wailing in the background.

9. “Right Moves,” Josh Ritter – I was giving a friend a ride home one night and she said, “Who is this? I like it!” Me too. A great groove.

10. “Your Next Lover,” Lori McKenna – “She puts her pocketbook down and smiles at you” … and you know this isn’t going to turn out well.

11. “Let the Music Get Down in Your Soul,” Marc Broussard – It’s a remake but advice like this never goes out of style.

12. “The Calling,” Mary Chapin Carpenter – Some things you just don’t have control over. It’s OK to embrace those things.

13. “People Change,” Nick Lowe – He’s right, of course, but only a randy chap like Nick can tell a story like this.

14. “Someone Somewhere Tonight”, Pam Tillis – She’s still got it. A fine reminder that the great circle of life goes on.

15. “Heavenly Day,” Patty Griffin – An upbeat love song about her dog!

16. “Because of You,” Reba McEntire and Kelly Clarkson – My friend cries every time she hears this because it reminds her of her dad.

17. “Follow the Lights,” Ryan Adams & the Cardinals – Such words of encouragement are always welcome.

18. “Fallen,” Storyhill – They sing, “This year the winter will not break me,” and I always think, “Me neither, I hope.”

19. “If You Leave Me Now,” Suzy Bogguss – With her pristine voice, this Chicago oldie sounds like a whole new song.

20. “Don’t Ask Me to Be Friends” (bonus track), Teddy Thompson – If you really don’t want to be friends after a breakup, please don’t pretend otherwise.

21. “This is Me You’re Talking To,” Trisha Yearwood – It’s inevitable that you’ll run into old flames in Nashville. What can I say? This song gets it just right.

Keith Urban. He’s a Grammy-nominated, multiple award-winning, mega-superstar. He’s achieved more success and won more accolades than most can imagine. No, it doesn’t seem like many of us would have much in common with Keith Urban. However, we’re wrong. He has something in common with “Everybody.”

This video exposes that common ground between someone that seems larger than life to someone like you and me. I too have had to ask for help in time of need or worry. When I first moved to Nashville, I called home about three times a day. Loneliness had set in and I needed a soft place to fall. I relied on my family's sturdy support to remind me that I would be all right and that tomorrow would be easier. I sure don’t know where I’d be today without their comfort to lean upon.

Like Urban sings, “Just when it feels you’re on a dead-end road/There’s always somewhere left to turn.” He’s right -- there’s always hope. Sometimes we just have to eat our pride and ask for help without being ashamed. I suppose now is the best time of any to have this hopeful holiday spirit. May we all be able to thank that person who has helped us this year and to someday return the favor if we haven’t already. Because really, “You don’t have to find your own way out. You’ve got a voice, let it be heard.”

Most of us don’t have a platinum plaque hanging on the wall, a celebrity spouse to accompany us on extravagant vacations, millions of dollars to spend at our pleasure, but “Everybody” has had to ask for help at some point in our life. Yes, even Keith Urban, who’s had his bought with addiction more than once. But look at him now. Whether self-inflicted or unfortunate circumstances, we’ve all hit that point where we can’t do it alone.

Ok, so I am so exhausted right now. It’s Thursday, the night of the finals and I am still a little shaken from last night. What an incredible night for me and my choir. I am a competitive person, but I just have never felt this way. I cannot believe that we beat out Michael Bolton’s choir last night. I was shocked and relieved. I honestly can barely remember anything after they announced that we are staying. I just had knots inside my stomach. Right after Maria said that we were safe, I turned around to congratulate the choir, and then I looked over at my mom and she was crying. I was thinking she just looked so proud of me and I feel the same way about my choir. They are awesome.

Today, it feels like a ghost town around here. Usually backstage, in the dressing rooms and everything, people are walking around talking, cutting up. But, today it just feels like a funeral. It’s amazing how intense everything got in such a short period. I know I have been talking big. But I am really nervous about tonight. I can’t believe that I have made it this far. Patti LaBelle’s choir is just so good and Nick Lachey really has pulled out all the stops. It’s going to be a weird night. I just hope that my choir can relax and have a good time. I mean, this has been one great experience. Thanks for voting, guys. Hopefully it will pay off tonight.

See photos from Clash of the Choirs.

Don’t let Clay Walker fool you. He’s not empathetic. He’s just horny.

Back when I first heard the song “Fall,” I thought he’d finally found the one thing that every woman wanted to hear. Then I saw the video -- and completely changed my mind.

To a woman, the lyrics sound like they’re coming from a man who gets it. A guy who understands how selfless a girl’s life can be. Like when he sings “Even though I know you’ve had a bad day, doin’ this and doin’ that, always puttin’ yourself last.” By that, I thought he meant, “Hey baby, you’re so good to everybody else, let me do something for you. Can I get you a latte? Want me to help the kids with homework and you can take a bath? Let me do a grocery run and make dinner.”

Unfortunately, what he meant was, “Can I get in your pants?”

The story in the video comes down to this: Walker making the moves on some unsuspecting woman. He’s stroking her hair, pulling her shirt off her shoulders, kissing her neck. He’s saying he’ll be there for her, and she can fall into his arms, but what he’s doing is trying to turn her vulnerability into getting himself laid. After a long day of what Walker calls “a whole lotta give and not enough take,” I think I can speak for every woman when I say: This is not our fantasy. A man’s, yes. But not ours. Foreplay by a mountain stream is not the answer when you’re overworked and underappreciated.

I’m not saying sex doesn’t sell. A lusty song deserves a lusty video, like Dierks Bentley’s “Come a Little Closer.” He sings about wanting it, then he acts it out. But Walker has tried to disguise taking care of his own needs with a song about taking care of hers. Sex like that doesn’t fix a thing. It’s really just one more thing on our to-do list.