Hey, Remember This Damn (Good) Country Band?...A Return Trip To Whiskeytown

When I posted my slightly reworked version of Ryan Adams' best solo record Gold in *check notes* December 2024?! it was supposed to be only the startingpoint of a larger Adams project, with phase two being a look back on his years as Whiskeytown's band leader. I started on that comp, then got stuck and then...well...other things took precedence, and Whiskeytown were on the backburner. Until now. But now Whiskeytown is, uh, in town, and here to stay. Like many Alt Country/Americana acts I liked (see Hazeldine or Casal, Neal) Whiwkeytown never quite made it outside of a small cult circle. But they were one of the best and most memorable alt country groups when they were on, and a real big pain in the ass when they weren't. 

On one of their very first punblished songs, off their debut EP Angels, Adams and Whiskeytown delivered their credo and origin story: "So I started this dzmn country band...'cause punk rock was too hard to sing". A nice bit of self-mythologizing, and not entirely truthful as a reason, as ex-punk Adams fell under the spell of the greats like Hank Williams and, of course, Gram Parsons. And of course Adams always liked to piss off people for no particular reason, other than to amuse himself, so a couple of years later he declared that he hated country music. Adams always was behaving like an asshole, with the whole 'Me Too' accusations and subsequent vanishing from the public spotlight in 2019 only the logical end phase of being an asshole one too many time to one (or several) too many persons. But he was of course also a fabulous singer-songriter and (in)famously prolific on top of that. 

Whiskeytown, the original band, only existed for about to years, the second iteration another year after that, and the the band - at that time only being Adams and Cary plus assorted sidemen, starry friends of Adamd and members for hire - staggered on for another two and a half years before calling it quits in 2000 to give way to Adams' solo career. But in those years in between, from late 1994 to late 1997, Whiskeytown could be just about the best damn alt country band in the country, when they felt like it. They had the talent - mostly residing in Adams - , they had the songs, and in their best moments they had the performances. But like their inoffcial hero Gram Parsons they were sorely lacking in one thing: discipline. Stories of gigs in which they spent minutes tuning and discussing what to play, made up jokey songs on the spot or played like a heavy metal band just to mess with the audience are legend, as is Whiskeytown's penchant for a arts and all approach to composing and recording, that finally was put to the test by Jim Scott when he produced sophomore album Strangers' Almanac and demanded the band actually work on their craft.  

The first three tracks of This Damn Country Band pretty much capture the Whiskeytown universe all by themselves: "Take Your Guns To Town" is an uptempo gallop from the very early days of the band, showing the last vestiges of Adams' punk rock past and the closest Whiskeytown came to be aligned with the so-called cow punk groups. And then it's off to on a trip to "Mining Town", a fabulous little vignette, all atmosphere - greatly helped by Caitlin Cary's backing vocals - and with vocals that describe small town dead end ennui in a way that the Boss wouldn't have done better: "Said you came froma mining town / But they closed the mining down / Said your momma was a drinker / she had a picture of Jesus on her sink and / Baby, I....Baby, I'm coming for you tonight". And then track three, "Yesterday's News", puts the pedal to the metal with barely a hint of twang, but a lot of what sounds like another of Whiskeytown's influences, The Replacements, down to the slightly hoarse vocals and slashing lead guitar. 

Considering that Adams and Cary were the two holdouts throughout Whiskeytown's existence, they are considered the heart and soul of Whiskeytown, but I maintain that Whiskeytown were the great band they could be in almost equal measure due to the presence of lead guitar player and Adam's frenemy, Phil Wandscher. Without Wandscher, the band simply wasn't the same, and also somewhat ceased to be band, more of a Ryan Adams plus sidemen (and woman, with Cary) project. There's a reason why Pneumonia, the third and last Whiskeytown album is less present on This Damn Country Band, compared to the other two. Not only because Faithless Street and Stranger's Almanac were stronger records, but because they sound - band turmoil and band member turnover notwithstanding - like albums made by a band, whereas Pneumonia could never shake the impression of being a Ryan Adams solo album in all but name. So, for this comp, I chose Pneumonia songs which are the closest to real Whiskeytown songs, with co-writes and harmony vocals by Cary, with both "Don't Wanna Know Why" and "Easy Hearts" dating back to late 1997, when Whiskeytown had just been reconfigured. 

But back to Wandscher for a second. "16 Days" wouldn't be as great without Wandscher's backing vocals ("the ghost has got me running") answering Adams' lead that in turn mingles with Cary's harmony vocals. And the fact that he was Adams' foil - in guitar playing, but also in real life - gave the band during those years with him a checks-and-balance system. Wandscher was probably the least afraid of calling out Adams on his bullshit, which would end - no doubt aided and abetted by abundant alcohol and drugs - in the occasional fistfight. But musically, Wandscher would also end up being a wall for Adams' ideas to bounce off. Thus, This Damn Country Band is stacked with tracks from the Wandscher years, with a whooping fifteen out of tenty tracks drawn from Faithless Street, Strangers' Almanac and Rural Delivery, the double EP of early material the band had to give to local label Moodfood as a way to sign with (mid-) major Outpost Recordings, backed by the Geffen group. 

One of these wasn't published at the time: The otherwise absolutely fabulous "Lo-Fi Tennessee Mountain Angel" was presumably voted off Faithless Street because of its similarities to the title track, but damn, don't you get goosebumps when Adams and Cary harmonize and sing in unison "you said you wanna play country, but you're in a punk rock band". Besides the four Pneumonia tracks there is one other stray tracks that is Whiskeytown at their finest, though it comes from their later iteration: Recorded for the fabulous Gram Parsons tribute album Return Of The Grievous Angel, their version of "A Song For You" is simply outstanding, in my opinion besting Parsons' already great original. I voluntarily stayed away from the dozens of unreleased Whiskeytown tracks, as that is an entirely different can of worms. But don't worry, we'll get to those.

For now, 20 of the finest tracks from one of the finest bands to come out of the alt country/No Depression boom times of the mid-90s. But now that the long gestating of this comp is over, it'll be the start of a whole ton of Whiskeytown coming your way in the next months. Whether it's alts of their first two albums, a rarities sampler, outtakes presented as EPs or albums, or a mix of all of the above remains to be seen. There is such a boatload of stuff to wade through - and not all of it is great, but yeah, I'm ready for more adventures in Whiskeytown-land, and by proxy, so might you. So, as ever, enjoy the music and stay tuned...

R.E.M. are back...for a day at the beach

Ha, you didn't think we were done with the R.E.M. of the Reveal period, did you? Well, technically, you could've thought that, because I thought I was after I resequenced and reworked the album. But, just out of due diligence, I decided to check the singles' b-sides, just to see I wasn't missing a great song to mix into Rerevealed. And well, there wasn't, but the stuff I found was still too good to just leave on the side, so I immediately thought 'companion EP'. Well, and then I checked the R.E.M.ixes that was issued a year later, and while most of that one isn't great, I found a song here and there I liked, and so the 'companion EP' becomes a companion album, R.E.M.'s A Day At The Beach. 

The title is not only chosen because the songs here have the same sunkissed quality as the ones on Reveal, but here the band's love for the Beach Boys comes out even more openly, mainly because the electronic trickery is downplayed, mostly because the Reveal songs themselves (at least on the first side, more on that later) are demo versions, which in many ways are more pure than the sometimes overly fussy final versions. "Summer Turns To High" in its '32 Chord Song Demo' version really does sound like a Beach Boys song here, And hey, I even saved "Beachball" from the scrap heap to include here! I might have been a bit harsh on it in my write-up for Rerevealed, but context is important. As little as I thought it fit into Reveal, it fits well here in a more open Beach Boys-homage context and sound. Hell, R.E.M. have even done a surf instrumental, "165 Hillcrest", which I use as an opener to establish the right mood. 

A Day At The Beach is actually divided into two sides, like in the old days of vinyl. Side a with the first five tracks is the Beach Side, while side b is the Bar Side. Which means that the purer Beach Boys homage tracks are representing the day at thebeach, while side b is when towards the end of the afternoon you go and get a drink or three in a beach bar with some beats in the background while you do so. So the remixes end up on side b, which concludes in a bookends way with "2JN", a song that also sounds like it comes from the Beach Boys, but not from one of their sun'n'surf albums, but rather from Pet Sounds.  

One of the interesting side effects of this double R.E.M. project is the appreciation I gained for "The Lifting". Originally when I resequenced the original album it was to put that song in a later spot because I didn't think it was a great opener, but it is a much better song than I remembered, unnecessary electronica embellishments be damned. And so A Day On The Beach has two versions of "The Lifting", the original version - a little slower, and mostly bereft of all the electronic stuff - and a lovely remix that thankfully goes easy on the dance beats. That's why I only kept a short bit of "I'll Take The Rain" which is almost all atmosphere, before the really heavy (and kind of cliché) dance beats come in right after. 

So, another ten tracks to really wrap up R.E.M.'s summer extravaganza in style. Soak in the sun once more with Michael, Mike and Peter. Surf's up, dudes!

Casalties Keep Piling Up For The Last Time...

The king is gone but he's not forgotten, this is the story of a Johnny Rotten Neal Casal. A small fanbase he might have had, too small one would argue, but loyal they are, so it is mighty fine to see that they will be served with an archival release these days. A compilation of early songs and demos, No One Above You (The Early Years 1991-1998) will be out tomorrow, so I thought it's time to get going and wrap up my archival series on Mr. Casal. Which means it's time to welcome Casalties 3, this volume covering Casal's career from about 2005 to this death in 2019 and the posthumous releases that make up the last four songs here. If you think, 'wow, that's quite a bit of time to cover', especially since Vol. 1 covered three years (1995 to 1998) and Vol. 2 seven (1998 to 2005), you get a clearer view on how Casal's career shifted in its last decade and a half. 

While Casal was playing with Ryan Adams as part of The Cardinals, he stayed active as a solo performer, issuing No Wish To Reminiscence (2006) and just after the break up of the Cardinals in early 2009 Roots & Wings, which was written and recorded while still part of and touring with the group. But in the last decade of his life and music career he preferred dissolving himself in different bands, being part of the Chris Robinson Brotherhood, indie supergroup Hard Working Americans and psych rock outfit Circles Around The Sun, as well as playing with Beachwood Sparks and off-shoots GospelBeacH and Skiffle Players. Add to that a ton of studio work, adding guitars and sometimes harmony vocals to everyone from James Iha to Lucinda Williams to Mark Olson, and Casal clearly kept very busy. Except on his own music. 

I picked up 2010's Sweeten The Distance, his tenth and last solo album, from a bargain bin a year or so after release. I played it, and thought to myself 'really nice', as one would with a Casal album - lovely vocals, solid melodies, impeccable if classic arrangements - but I also thought to myself 'these songs all sound variations on others of his, this album sounds like he is a bit 'written out'. I didn't know how right I was, sadly. The songs on Sweeten The Distance would be the last original songs of Casal published during his lifetime. The fact that his musical friends and companions reworked "Everything Is Moving", written in 2012 or so, and a handful of other tunes from Casal's solo demos is a testament to how beloved Casal was among peers. But the fact that for the last nine years of his life, no more originl music was forthcoming is also telling. Was this a factor in Neal's decision to end his life? I don't want to speculate. But it's sad that such a gifted singer-songwriter had nothing to tell in those last years to a small but faithful audience, and was fine in hiring out his guitar-playing skills to a ton of groups and projects. 

Highlights of this collection include two rather unsual covers: a kick-ass version of Terrence Trent D'Arby's "Wishing Well" that he contributed to an 80s tribute sampler -  taken, like almost the entire first half off odds'n'sodds cllection All Directions - that album's lovely title track and the last song he published in his lifetime, "Property Of Jesus" from an obscure tribute album to Dylan's Christian period (jeeez, the ideas for tributes sometimes...). There is also a beautiful acoustic rendition of his own classic "Too Much To Ask", as well as an acoustic reading of Beachwood Sparks' "Old Manatee" (of which the person who posted it had no recording date or info, so I seqeunced it for flow rather than date). The instrumental "Grimes' Surf Story" he did with his future Circles Around The Sun colleague Adam MacDougall was running a rather unreasonable five and a half minute and featured long sections where you mainly hear the latter, so I edited that down considerably just to get an idea of the track, and to not interrupt the flow of this collection, which - like the first two volumes - is more or less chornological.  

So, this concludes for the time being my posts on Neal Casal, but you never know. There might be more coming from this fabulous artist in the future, if I can dig out more stuff. In the meantime, enjoy Casalties 3 (and maybe No One Above You) and bathe once more in that luxurious, lovely voice and guitar-picking of Neal Casal...

PS. here's the trailer for No One Above You

R.E.M. And Their Summer Album...Re-Revealed

Reveal isn't an album that is generally held in particular high esteem. No one hates it, like, say, a good part of the  people who bought Monster, which means that that album lined second hand stores with severeal copies for years. But not too many R.E.M. fans will go to bat for this one as a great record either, more of a nice but otherwise unremarkable addition to the discography. Me? I'm weird, so I'd probably put this in my Top 5 of R.E.M. albums, though probably just sneaking in on the 5 spot (after Automatic, Reckoning, Murmur,and Pageant). 

There are legitimate caveats with this album. After the electronic exploration of Up, Reveal was seen as a return to form and to a recognizable R.E.M. sound, which is true,  but the band's then-penchant for burbling and flirring electronics is still there, and, as the Allmusic review correctly points out, at this time the band "emphasizes sonic construction over the songs". And it's also fair to point out that these aren't all lean numbers, and a couple could've probably stood to have a minute shaved off. As could the album as a whole, which is where this Rerevealed version of the album comes in. To make it a bit leaner and eminently more listenable I kicked off two tracks and resequenced the album from the ground up. And whatever else you think of what I did here, I don't think anyone can deny that this album runs better at ten tracks and 44 minutes than at 12 and 54. 

With that out of the way - caveats shmeats, if you will - this is an album that has a ton of great songs on it. The three singles drawn from the album - "Imitation Of Life, a dead ringer for "The Great Beyond" from their 1999 soundtrack to Man On The Moon, "All The Way To Reno" and "I'll Take The Rain" were some of the lmost accessible, and hook-laden songs in years from the band. Album tracks reveal hidden treasures, led by the barely hidden Beach Boys obsession that drove a lot of these Reveal songs: "Bang A Drum", "Summer Turns To High" and "The Lifting". "The Chorus And The Ring" seems to look way back to their I.R.S. period, even if it's much cleaner in singing, playing and production. 

The original track list showed the issues of haphazard sequencing made worse by some long-ish songs. "Disappear", after its long, moody, electronic intro turns into a pretty good song, but coupled with the dour "Saturn Return" in the middle of the record, there is a ten-minute dead spot from which the album had trouble recovering. "Saturn Return" is one of the two tracks not to return, the other being - maybe surprisingly - "Beachball", which for some might be a highlight of the album, but I have never taken to its breezy bossa nova rhythm, which to me still sounds like somewhat listless cocktail bar music, and a song that is barely there. 

Anyway, as already done once or twice before,  I'm taking an 'all killer no filler' 'addition by substraction' approach to this remodeled version of Reveal. Ten tracks which were the best R.E.M; had to offer at the beginning of the millenium (and for a good bit afterwards, seeing how they followed up Reveal with the clueless, boring Around The Sun), and in these dying days of summer it's an album well worth revisiting. So, revisit the rerevealed R.E.M. boys' trip to the beach...

Bleed once again, once more with feeling...

Huh, I hear you say, am I having deja vu? Didn't we just have this album on these pages just two weeks ago or so? Yes, yes we did, but this isn't that, and anyway, I won't leave you alone with this band until a least a handful of you have drank the kool aid all the way down, folks! Jimy Eat World are grand, Bleed American is grand, and that's why hearing these songs again - all in slightly differet versions - is grand. But really, the main reason I am posting this so quickly after the original is because I stumbled on a fabulous article over at The Quietus about Jimmy Eat World's album trio of Static Prevails, Clarity, and Bleed American, the latter two presented on One Buck Records (and the former presented on the Earlybird Special, all of which you can still download from their original write-ups). Some of the info in the article will be familiar to you if you've rad my write-ups, but a lot isn't and the article does a really good job of placing the band's music in the context of the time

That very article is something you should go and read. 

And then you can listen back to Bleed American, which is discussed in geat length once more, thanks to the Once More With feeling edition of the album, which runs through the exact track list of the original, but replaces every song by a demo, live or alternative version.  Highlights include the demo version of "The Middle" with the drummer going full throttle in a more basic version of the song and an ultra-lovely acoustic take on "If You Don't, Don't". Relistening to thi gain, and thinking of the article above, I just realizd that on "My Sundown" they do sound a little like Dashboard Confessional. But: no e-word, no e-word! Actually, e-word, if you read the article, the label doesn't matter, the songs are still great, the litte differences are interesting, and Jimmy Eat Worls will continue to roam across One Buck Records...some more. But for now, Bleed American, Once More With Feeling. 

Edit: Even if you don't want to have a second go at Bleed American, join us in the comment section to propose a genre-defining three album run by an artist or band!

Let There Be Light, Again: The Beach Boys And Their Last Great Album

A funny thing happened on the way to...well, the CD player in the kitchen while I was preparing lunch the other day. I was in a Beach Boys kind of mood so I grabbed a CD more or less at random from the Beach Boys section, and it turned out to be this album - Light Album Relit - which I didn't even remember I had burned to CD. This alternate album is by now years old and must've been one of my first attempts at reworking an album. But I wasn't sure whether I pulled it off, whether it was a worthy alternative, or even better: a replacement option, for the fine, but improvable original. Anyway, so I played it, and I thought to myself 'hey, that plays pretty well like that'. So out of the hidden corners of OBG's music closet comes the Beach Boys' Light Album, reworked...or shall we say, relit...

Here's another fun fact about L.A. (Light Album). It was the first album of the Boys that I ever bought, other than a compilation (long time One buck Heads will know that my very first self-bought CD was a horrendous compilation of the early Morgan Hite sessions). Which no doubt had to do that it was one of the cheapest out there, as one of the least loved releases, even though its reputation has improved over time. My young teenage self sensed a profound feeling of bewilderment when I put the disc on for the first time: Sure, "Good Timin'" sounded like the surf'n'cars Beach Boys, which at that time was the only Beach Boys I knew, but when stuff like "Full Sail" or "Angel Come Home" came on, I was like 'this doesn't sound like the Beach Boys'. I hadn't been exposed to Dennis' gruff vocals from the mid-70s on, neither to the Beach Boys tryng out a ton of different styles, from adult contemporary to - ahem - disco. Yes, you may remember L.A. as the album with the eleven minute disco remake of "Here Comes The Night". 

Truth is, L.A. is a mess, because the witing, production, and recording of it was a total mess. If albums like Carl & The Passions - So Tough (improved by yours truly as All This Is That) or 15 Big Ones had sounded like barely coherent collections of disparate tunes, that's because they were, and L.A. unfortunately aligned with those albums more than more coherent albums like Sunflower or Holland (greatly expanded by yours truly as Sail on, Sailor). I studied the credits, and all the names were right - the Wilson brothers, Love, Jardine, all present and accounted for - but the music didn't sound right. It didn't sound like the Beach Biys I knew, but in fairness, it didn't sound like the Beach Boys because it wasn't a group album, rather the Beach Boys' White Album, where everyone buggered off and did their thing and then brought the disparate pieces to form this album. Threee tracks are tracks off solo projects: Mike Love's "Sumahama" comes from his unissued solo album First Love and was reworked to be included here. And "Love Surrounds Me" and "Baby Blue" originated in Dennis Wilson's long-running but ultimately doomed efforts to release a follow up to Pacific Ocean Blue. It is believed that producer James William Guercio and Bruce Johnston talked Dennis into giving up these Bambu tracks because quality wasn't sufficient for what was to be their big label debut for CBS Records. 

Carl, rather than working with his brothers and bandmates, had struck up a songwriting relationship with Geoffrey Cushing-Murray, one that veered him further into the adult contemporary-soft rock waters of his solo albums in the 80s. The sessions and early results were such a mess - and CBS mightily miffed not only at the Beah Boys missing deadlines for their long-awaited album debut for the label, but also at the feeble offerings - that the band decided they needed to get Bruce Johnston back in the fold to help with arrangements and production. So, Johnston - fired right before completing Carl & The Passions - So Tough was back as a Beach Boy - and here to stay, for better or worse, mostly the latter. 

But, L.A. is a pretty good album, becaue it isn't a Mike and Al album, like 15 Big Ones or M.I.U. before it, it is - as said, somewhat by necessity - a Carl and Dennis album. And those are - if there is no Brian - the next best Beach Boys albums. Dennis has the two aforementioned numbers and sings lead on Carl's "Angel Come Home", a personal number about his divorce he didn't want to sing himself for that reason. Carl's other two tracks, "Goin' South" and "Full Sail" are, as said, a little too much on the soft rock sideof things, but at least the minimal contributions of Mike and Al are both pretty good, in that they are inoffensive and easy to listen to, which is pretty much all you can ask from a Mike or Al song. Mike's Japan fantasy "Sumahama", written as a tribute to his then-fiancé of Korean (!) descent, is total cliché, but in that total guilelessness almost cute. And Al's "Lady Linda", written as a tribute to his then-wife, is a pretty decent, hummable tune. 

And now, the dancing elephant in the room: That disco version of "Here Comes The Night". Farq went to bat for it, and I agree: The production by Brue Johnston is top notch. The song is really well built, having little wordless vocal blips in its incessant disco beat during the first two minutes to build anticipation for when the vocals finally come in. It's an excellent production - if you can stomach the idea of the Beach Boys' disco fever - but it also was way too freakin' long at almost eleven minutes. Essentially you have six minutes of an impeccably built up song and five minutes of an extended, repetetive vamp section. So, as you might have guessed, a first working order for this alt album reworking was to get "Here Comes The Night" down to about six and a half minutes, which lets you appreciate its good parts before it wears out its welcome. 

The other major inventions other than sequencing were some re-arranging around the Dennis & Carl bits, which I edited into two suites. Dennis' work with Beach Boys tour keyboard player Carlos Muniz for his second, ultimately unreleased solo album Bambu yielded a take on the latter's "It's Not Too Late", graced by a beautiful vocal of brother Carl on the chorus. Which makes the track the mirror image of "Baby Blue", also scheduled for Bambu.These songs are spiritual siblings, with Dennis' gruff, heartfet verses and Carl's angelic choruses, so I combined them into a track retitled "Longing". Carl's two ballads have been turned into two thirds of the "Away Trilogy", and "Goin' South" lost its cheeesy soft rock sax solo in the transition. But waitaminuet you say, Trilogy? That's right. L.A. was truly Dennis Wilson's last stand, with the Beach Boys and sadly as a musical artist full stop ( I don't count his one song cameo on the zombie travesty that is Keepin' The Sumer Alive. So, I felt, on this - the last real Beach Boys album, with the only real Beach Boy still on board - Dennis should have the last word. And so he does: "My love is bigger than the ocean" he sings in this extract from an extract (from the aborted first stab at a solo album in the early 70s), in the final section of "Away Trilogy". And then the sounds of the ocean carry Dennis vocals, and the memory of him away...

The Light Album was indeed the lat Beach Boys album you could listen to in one sitting without feeling ashamed or wanting to skip songs, and it showed that even in familiar chaotic circumstances the Boys could produce somewhat quality work. This isn't Pet Sounds, for sure, but it dosn't need to be. So, check out Light Album Relit and see if for you it also brings some light and joy...

P.S.: Speaking of joy (of the sardonic kind). Here's the ultra-cheesy promo clip for "Here Comes The Night", which I wouldn't want to keep from you. No Dennis, who probably had no fucks to give about this, and a disinteretsted (disoriented?) Brian with a cigarette hanging from his mouth who's there, but doesn't seem to know it. Sign of the times...

P.P.S.: Going back to this period finally kicked my ass to go and take care of my take on Dennis Wilson's Bambu, which I have to say I'm very satisfied with. So, coming soon on these very pages...

 

Waylon & Willie - The Outlaws Ride...

Not only are the days of summer slowly coming to an end, but also the days of summer holidays for the kids. Which is not a totally bad thing, because for now they are eating away at the adults' time, rarely being in bed before 10.30. Which means there's no time left for the adults to really invest in putting on a movie, or what not, so these days often we just hang out in front of the news or some easy going, not terribly long show. So testerday I stumbled on this documentary on Robert De Niro, which - while having nothing particularly new to teach me - reminded me of what a spectacular run De Niro had in the 70s and early 80s. THen the documentary was followed by one on Dolly Parton, someone I'm a lot less familiar with. Really interesting stuff, and even the wife was happy to have seen it and to have learned a ton about Parton. Great lady with a ton of humor. And by now it was definitely time to hit the bed, but that Parton documentary then segued into...a 1990 concert of the Highwaymen. Which means by this very long intro I will finally segue into the record of the day, which as you can see above is *not* the Highwaymen, but the two outlaw members of the group...

The Highwaymen period isn't seen by anyone as a highlight of the career of the four men involved. As a matter of fact, the group ws put together when the career of these wily country veterans had all begun to slow down considerably, so they wisely through themselves together. The adventure smacked a bit of n oldies package tour, and the concert we saw yesterday didn't entirely dispell that notion, but man, getting to see four legends (well, three and a half, with no disrespect to Kristoffer Kristian Ktistofferson) in one fell swoop retrospectively looks like a pretty great deal. In concert, these guys didn't bother too much with songs from the record they di in 1985 or the brand new record they were promoting in 1990, but rather ran through the greatest hits of each men. A toe-tappin' good ol' time was had by all - including OBG and his wife - which means we really, really went to bed later than we should. 

So here I was anyway, contemplating what to post next on this here lil' blog that could, and so the outlaws pushed themselves all the way to the front of the line. What I have here for you is one of the very first homebrewed compilations I ever did, about fourteen years ago. I had borrowed four vinyls from my dad - the Waylon & Willie album that lends its cover artwork, the Wanted: The Outlaws compilation from 1976, Willie's Red Headed Stranger and Waylon's I've Always Been Crazy - transferred them from vinyl to digital and compiled my favorites from these four albums involving Waylon & Willie. Seven of the generous 29 track selections are duets by Willie & Waylon, the rest alternates between both of them trading songs. 

There are of course their two famous duets, "Good-Herated Woman" and "Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys", plus a couple of lesser-known duet tunes like "Don't Cuss The Fiddle" (with its "Good Hearted Woman" reprise). Waylon's songs include highlights like the hilarious recounting of a New York Police drug bust in "Don't You Think This Outlaw Bit's Done Got Out Of Hand?", "A Long Time Ago" and "Girl I Can Tell", while Willie favorites other than the story-songs from Red Headed Stranger include "A Couple More Years" and "If You Can Touch Her At All", plus his classic "Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain".  

So, what's more to say? A ton of classic songs from the heydays of the outlaw movement and two of its best representatives. I have been grooving to this album, whenever I get the need for some honky tonkin', wheelin' and dealin', shufflin' and hufflin' outlaw country, for fourteen years, so maybe ut's time you get to do that, too...