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Leiber and Stoller: Second Generation Standards

Paul Zollo — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 12:00:11 +0000

Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. A suite of offices appointed with large, brightly colored folk-art paintings of blues heroes Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon. It's the headquarters of the legendary songwriting duo Leiber & Stoller, the team who created many of the first and most famous blueprints for rock and roll-songs such as "Hound Dog," "Jailhouse Rock" and "Kansas City"-by building a bridge from the past (the blues) to the future (rock and roll).

This article was originally published in American Songwriter in 2007.

Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. A suite of offices appointed with large, brightly colored folk-art paintings of blues heroes Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon. It's the headquarters of the legendary songwriting duo Leiber & Stoller, the team who created many of the first and most famous blueprints for rock and roll songs such as "Hound Dog," "Jailhouse Rock" and "Kansas City" -- by building a bridge from the past (the blues) to the future (rock and roll).

Talking today, in 2006, to Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller is an unparalleled experience for many reasons, not the least of which is that there are so many unlikely components to their story. Like any meeting with legendary songwriters, there is the surreal recognition that their songs are infinite and unbound, yet the songwriters are quite finite and human even, sitting here in the same room-bound by time. Two Jewish boys from L.A. who got famous for writing in a black genre, they are now American icons who are integral facets in the history of rock and roll. Yet with a few exceptions, they've remained silent about the 56 years of their celebrated collaboration and have never really participated in their history as it's been written.

Their feelings about their now-mythic songs are bittersweet-often more bitter than sweet. And almost every one of the published stories which purport to get their history right, are wrong, including those surrounding the writing and recording of their most famous songs, like "Hound Dog" and "Jailhouse Rock" (both recorded by Elvis), "Kansas City" (recorded by The Beatles among many others) and "Stand By Me" (recorded by Ben E. King originally and later John Lennon). The Beatles also cut two other Leiber & Stoller's songs on their first demo, "Searchin'" and "Three Cool Cats."

It is true though, that-as the story goes-Stoller didn't like the idea of writing songs with Leiber when they met in 1950. It's not true however-as has been reported-that he said he didn't like songs. What he said he didn't like were popular songs; he preferred jazz. But when he realized that the young Jerome Leiber had written not lyrics for pop songs but blues, a bridge was built between them that still stands to this day. It's a bridge built on the blues.

Because their most famous songs came fast and easy to them, "hot off the griddle," as Leiber puts it, they don't tend to value them to the extent that they value songs like "Is That All There Is?" an existential theatrical ballad made famous by Peggy Lee. To this day, Leiber, the lyricist, and Stoller, the melodist, yearn to be known as more than writers of simple rock and roll. When I lingered on the writing of "Jailhouse Rock," for example, Leiber looked me squarely in the eyes and said, "Why are you spending so much time on ‘Jailhouse Rock'? Is it that important?" Well, yes. It is. Though they've written some of the most lasting popular songs ever, they didn't think any of them would last. As soon as they were off the charts, they felt they would vanish.

Leiber & Stoller have long felt their famous rock and roll songs were kids' stuff, and they wanted to write songs for adults-deeper, more musically and lyrically complex songs of which there exists an abundance in their mythical "vault." But except for "Is That All These Is?" it's their simple, easy songs that have connected them timelessly to popular culture. Out of the universe of albums that have been recorded containing their songs, the one that they speak of with the greatest pride is Peggy Lee Sings Leiber & Stoller, a collection of their "adult songs" sung by the legendary vocalist.

And while you might assume any songwriter would be forever proud to have had a song recorded by Elvis or The Beatles, they never liked The King's rendition of "Hound Dog," nor did they like The Beatles' recording of "Kansas City" (for reasons explained in the following). They only wrote "Jailhouse Rock" because the movie's producer refused to let them out of their hotel room until they came up with some songs. "Hound Dog" was written on the fly, and not for Elvis but for Big Mama Thornton. From the second Jerry uttered its title he didn't think it was sufficiently explicit, and still doesn't feel it is as biting as he wanted-nor does he see much value in other legendary titles he's created, such as "Jailhouse Rock" or "Spanish Harlem." Elvis's rendition of "Hound Dog"-perhaps the most famous recording ever of one of their songs-doesn't even use the right lyrics. Instead it copies improbable lyrics written for the song by Freddie Bell, who introduced the whole notion of a rabbit to the song, a notion that Leiber & Stoller regard as nonsense.

They were the first independent record producers to be officially designated as producers-"producer" being a title they invented themselves (they wanted "director"). But they started producing records only in self-defense, to ensure that their songs wouldn't be wrecked when translated to records. "We don't write songs," Leiber famously has said. "We write records."

Even with their most famous non-rock creation, "Is That All There Is?" they are forever dismayed by Peggy Lee's insistence on changing one word, an alteration-in their opinion-which dilutes the entire point of the song.

To this day, they often finish each other's sentences though their memories frequently clash. "Our relationship is the longest running single argument in the entertainment business," Jerry says, only half-joking.

But the connection that led them to write words and music like one person over the decades, even when they wrote them apart (they separately wrote the words and music to the refrain of "Is That All There Is?" yet then discovered that both parts fit perfectly), remains powerful, and as often as they argue, they laugh. And it's clear that there are few people they'd rather spend time with than each other.

Watch: Luke Winslow-King Performs At The AS Office

americansongwriter — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 12:09:35 +0000

AS Office" src="http://www.americansongwriter.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/lwkl.jpg" alt="Watch: Luke Winslow-King Performs At The AS Office" width="200" height="144" />
Luke Winslow-King’s music lies somewhere in between New Orleans piano rags and the folk-influenced work of 19th century Czech composers like Antonín Dvořák. A Michigan native who did stints in New York City and Europe before settling into the cobblestone maze of the French Quarter, Winslow-King got help from legendary Italian slide guitarist (and Nola local) Roberto Luti for his last record, Old/New Baby. But on You Hear Me Talkin’ To Ya, he plays the scraggly ‘50s pawnshop electric himself, and recorded parts of the album within the ghostly cloister of the storied Preservation Hall jazz club. Winslow-King and his band (Cassidy Holden, upright bass; Esther Rose, washboard) dropped by our offices earlier this month and treated us to several tunes, including “The Mississippi Slow Drag,” from You Hear Me Talkin' To Ya. - Davis Inman Click here to read our interview with the artist.

Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit, Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto

Bronwyn Coombs — Tue, 24 May 2011 21:04:52 +0000

MerleFest Thursday: Corb Lund

Caine O'Rear — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 20:28:44 +0000

(Photo: Jamie Younger)

3:30 p.m. There was some dirty weather knocking about Wilkesboro last night, dashing our plans to camp creekside on the festival grounds and pick guitar ‘till sun up. Camping is part and parcel of the MerleFest experience, and sleeping under a roof just felt like cheating. But the skies have now cleared, thankfully, and we’re ready for a great weekend of music that promises sets by Robert Plant, Randy Travis and the Del McCoury Band. Corb Lund, a Canadian troubadour who is signed to New West Records, got things rolling Thursday with a spirited set from the Watson stage. Lund played tunes off his album, “Losin’ Lately Gambler,” a collection of songs steeped in the mythology of the Old West. Lund, who hails from the wilds of Alberta, told the crowd that his native people raise cattle and harbor distrust of the federal government. “It was a lot like Texas,” he said. Lund got the crowd swinging with a song called “Big Butch Bass Bull Fiddle,” a tale about the difficulties of traveling on airplanes with an upright bass. He then kicked in to a trucking song, a cinematic romper worthy of any great American honky-tonker.

Check out our session with Lund from 2009, and look for more updates from MerleFest on americansongwriter.com.

From The Archive: Neil Diamond In Nashville

Chip Flippo — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 12:00:34 +0000

This story originally ran in American Songwriter in 1996. After spending the last year in some of this town's famed recording studios with the cream of the Nashville cats and getting over his writer's block, Neil Diamond is back with his first album of original material in four years, a TV special, and a world tour. And while it's not exactly true to say that he's gone country, Diamond says that he's adding a steel guitar and fiddle to his road band to accommodate the material on his new 18-cut album, "Tennessee Moon." Amid a flurry of activity, the Columbia album was released Feb. 6, domestically and internationally. Diamond then taped an ABC-TV special at Nashville's Ryman Auditorium which aired Feb. 24. Now he will begin a two-year world tour March 26 in Australia. Columbia plans a big push for the album, according to Peter Fletcher, VP for marketing, West Coat. "This is Neil's best record in a decade." He says. "And our main job is to let Neil's fans know it's available. They're incredibly loyal, but they're not average radio listeners, so we have to find other ways to reach them. The cornerstone of our initial setup will be co-promotion of the TV special with ABC during their (ratings) sweeps. After the album release date, we'll target Valentine's Day sales to his fans, and then we'll kick into high gear the rest of the month, leading up to the TV show." Fletcher says plans include a promotion with Target, including a special Diamond CD sampler with seven love songs. "Neil will be the featured musical artist in Target for February and March. We'll also have a major national contest through Handleman and Kmart, with a chance to win a Harley-Davidson motorcycle (Diamond's ride of choice) and Harley apparel. We'll have special in-store displays and end-cap main aisle space in both Target and Kmart." Fletcher says a radio promotion strategy is still being finalized, but initial plans are to take the entire record to country and AC, with focus tracks for each format. The album covers the musical spectrum---from traditional, lush Diamond epics to straight country, with some surprises in between (including funny talking blues). Except for a revamped country version of "Kentucky Woman" and two other songs, all the songs were co-written by Diamond with Nashville songwriters (one with son Jesse). Diamond says his Nashville stay has re-invigorated his writing chops. "Nashville is something every artist thinks about at some point, because of the pool of talent here," Diamond says. "Bob Gaudio (his producer) pushed me over the edge and told me it would be good for me and my music." Diamond ended up writing with Harlan Howard, Gary Burr, Raul Malo, and Hal Ketchum, among others and recording duets with such artists as Malo and Waylon Jennings. "We ran down a list of potential writers," he says, "and then got realistic about how many writers I could work with and came down to a list of 20-25. Then I met with them at least once before the writing sessions. I hit it off with just about everyone. Then we set a writing everyone. Then we set a writing schedule, where I would do two writing sessions a day, and I would start a song that we would be excited enough about to continue and finish. We started every song pretty much at this kitchen here (in his house outside Nashville), sitting face to face with two guitars, my DAT machine and a stereo mike pinned to the window curtains here." Diamond says that before coming to Nashville, he had not written a song for three or four years. "I have not been able to get myself to complete songs. I had started songs that I really liked, but had not been really motivated. Columbia had given me the easy way out by letting me do Christmas albums. I felt a definite need to write again and express myself about my life and add new repertoire to Neil Diamond's catalog, or life's work, or whatever I've done. I hope some of these songs will stand among my best." "This is American music in a way I've never really conceived of before," he says. "Just listen to Mark O'Connor's fiddle, the way he lays around my voice. Steel guitar and fiddle are soulful instruments that I've never used before---great discovery. I feel good about what we've come up with here. I've got Chet Atkins on here, which was one of my fantasies." Diamond says that as the writing went on, the material became more and more autobiographical. "It's probably a milestone album for me, in that it proved to me that I can write my own heart and my own feelings after all these years. I can still get down to the nub of the truth. It's nice for me to know I can still do that." Songs like "Prison Doors" and "Win the World," he says, are very much the story of his life. "I've lost two marriages now to my career, without any question, and that song "in The World" is the answer t it. So maybe I won't do it again." Diamond is considering keeping a home in Nashville. "I like the writers' community here. I had never been out to the clubs before to see the songwriters nights, which are amazing. Even in the Brill Building days the songwriter didn't have that kind of focus or forum. I like that a lot. The Brill Building was star-driven. This is writer-driven, and the city itself is creatively focused on the writer. The Brill Building, writers had no freedom. They were forced to write for very specific reasons, for very specific artists." Diamond, who was a paid house writer in those days, says e appreciates the difference. "There certainly was no golden age back then if you were just another writer. You were just another piece of chattel at 50 bucks a week against future royalties. There was very little respect for the writer then. You were just a hired hand, kept in servitude. I was just lucky. It was just plain dumb luck that I was able to break out of that vicious cycle that writers were caught up in. This album reminds me of that era, except back then I was in the basement. Now, I'm in the penthouse. It makes a big difference." Diamond is managed by Gallin-Morey Associates. He has no booking agent. His publishing company is DiamondSongs, administered by Sony Music Publishing and SESAC (except for "Kentucky Woman," which is Talleyrand Music, Inc).

Meet The Lyric Contest Judges: SESAC’s Justin Levenson

Jamie Younger — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 16:51:29 +0000

** American Songwriter is proud to introduce a new Lyric Spotlight series featuring interviews with our Lyric Contest judges. We hope these interviews give you insight into the wide spectrum of music industry professionals represented on our panel. ** Justin Levenson has worked to further the careers of songwriters for over eight years at the performing rights organization SESAC. A former high school percussion teacher, Levenson has a successful career on both sides of the music business; he also works as a freelance percussionist and tours locally. We talked to Justin about what SESAC does for songwriters, and what he looks for in a lyric. Learn About The 2011 Lyric Contest You work at SESAC, which is a performing rights organization. Tell us a little bit about what SESAC does, and what you do there. The main job of a performing rights organization or a PRO is to represent our catalog of songs, so we represent our affiliates, our songwriters and publishers, and we license music users for the use of their copyrights or songs. We then track the performances of their songs, and then pay off the license fees that we collect from music users out to our affiliates in the form of royalties. I’ve been at the company for almost ten years with a variety of roles. My current job is in licensing operations, working underneath the head of the licensing department, managing a lot of different aspects of our licensing operations and a variety of different projects. In the past, I was working in writer-publisher relations, directly working with songwriters and affiliates. In this role, I managed our Affiliation Consultancy Program and worked to affiliate songwriters with a focus on grass roots affiliations and emerging talent. Now there’s still a handful of bands and affiliates that I am the point of contact for, but my main responsibilities have moved on to what we call licensing operations. How did you get involved with SESAC? I actually got a job randomly. I’m a musician, and I was setting up in a club, doing soundcheck, and the club owner told me about SESAC. I put in my resume and applied for a part-time bill collector job in our licensing department, ended up getting the job. At the time, I was teaching high school percussion, gigging, and doing a lot of sessions. It was a great fit for me, and at the time it was my toe in, so to speak. You talked about being a percussionist, and you still do some of that now. What’s it like being on both ends of the music industry? I love it. I really believe that there’s opportunities for people to be successful on both sides, but at the same time it’s nothing that I was really calculating, it’s just kind of who I am. I’ve always been fortunate enough to have opportunities to play. I once heard Vince Gill talk about how throughout his career and especially at the beginning of his career, new opportunities mainly came from his phone ringing and how thankful he was for the fact that his phone continued to ring; this really resonated with me. Thankfully, my phone keeps ringing with opportunities to play, and then as I got involved with SESAC I found out that I love the business side of things too. I love where the business side of things is going, there are so many opportunities to innovate on that side of things. Honestly, I just try to burn it on every end possible, and take full advantage of every opportunity I get...I can sleep later. How long have you been involved with the Lyric Contest? I’ve been in the Lyric Contest a little over a year, going on two years. What do you look for? What makes a lyric memorable to you? One thing that stands out is finding a different way to say a common message. So if it’s the message of, “I love you and you’re the most amazing thing to ever come into my life,” how do you say that in a way that’s fresh? To sum it up, a fresh expression of a common message, something that reaches a lot of people, but in a unique kind of way. Another important thing is imagery. To me, when I’m reading these lyrics, I’m always picturing some movie in my head, so to me, it’s what visual things does this evoke? Is there an implied melody that I hear, or a rhyme scheme? Something that just makes it stand out, and to me a lot of that is just the picture that it paints in my head. What's a lyric that you wish you'd written? I was thinking about that this morning, the first thing that came to my mind, “God Bless the Broken Road” that Marcus Hummon wrote, he co-wrote it. That is an amazing, fresh way of saying that this road that has led me to you has been break-ups and heartbreaks, the idea that there’s blessings in disguise. Sometimes not getting what you want is the biggest blessing that can happen, or sometimes a relationship not working out is the best thing that could ever happen, because the lessons you learn help you start anew. That’s the first song that came to mind this morning, just that line, “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.” It’s kind of saying, “I’m so thankful for all these breaks and stumbles along the way that made me the person I am today, that put me in a place ready to be with you.” Who are some of your favorite songwriters? I love all kinds of music. I just talked about Marcus Hummon. James Slater’s another one I love, Victoria Shaw, Gary Burr, people that are just amazing. I love Chuck Cannon, I think he’s awesome, Dallas Davidson, there’s just so many. On the younger side of things, Sam Brooker and Audrey Spillman are two favorite up-and-comers from the younger generation of folks who are just doing amazing things. There’s a young girl named Madeleine Slate who is from Canada, and she’s been in town a year or so, she’s definitely one to watch. She is amazing. We’re in this town, with such amazing songwriters, but those are probably some of my favorites. Click Here To Enter The March/April 2011 Lyric Contest Click Here To View Current Winners

John Denver: The Fifth Song He Wrote Was A Hit

Deborah Evans Price — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 13:00:06 +0000

This article originally appeared in American Songwriter magazine in July 1992. Many songwriters have to write hundreds of songs before they pen a great one. With John Denver it only took five. The fifth song that he wrote was "Leaving on a Jet Plane," a tune that became a number one hit for Peter, Paul and Mary in 1969 and launched the career of one of popular music's most highly acclaimed songwriters. Penning such mega-hits as "Take Me Home, Country Roads," "Rocky Mountain High," "Sunshine On My Shoulders," "Annie's Song," "Thank God I'm A Country Boy," "Calypso" and others. Denver's songwriting defined a decade of popular music. He has an incredible sales record, having 14 gold and 8 platinum albums to his credit in the United States alone. His Greatest Hits lp is still one of the largest selling albums in the history of RCA Records, with world-wide sales of over 10 million copies. Denver currently records for his own label, Windstar, distributed by American Gramophone Records. A love of music and the environment, and the desire to communicate those passions to other people led Henry John Deutschendorf, the son of an Air Force officer, to write his first song at age 13. "I think it's natural for anyone who starts to play a musical instrument to start pretty soon experimenting with melodies of their own," Denver says. "I was about 12 when I started playing the guitar. I think the first song I wrote was when I was about 13. It was at a Presbyterian Church Camp in Arizona. One day I went for a walk up the Colorado River and the song I wrote was called "Sittin' On The Banks of a Lazy Little Stream." It's interesting to me that from the very beginning nature was a big part of how I tried to communicate or articulate myself." Denver says it was about a year before he attempted a second song and then he just wrote sporadically over the next few years. "The fourth song I wrote was called "For Baby (For Bobbie)," he recalls. "It was written for a girl. And the next song I wrote was "Leaving on a Jet Plane." That's about the fifth song I ever wrote." Denver's first big break as a singer also led to his first and only publishing association. He auditioned and won a spot as lead singer for the popular Chad Mitchell Trio over 250 other young hopefuls. Denver said he had never thought much about signing a publishing agreement, pitching songs or any of that. He says things began quite simply when he sand a song he had written for Milt Akum who headed Cherry Lane Music. "He said it was good enough for the Trio and offered to be my publisher," Denver recalls. "And he has been ever since." He continues, "I had never thought about signing with a publisher. I never thought about the business end of it. When it got to a point where a song of mine was going to be recorded then it was appropriate to have a publisher, it was much smarter to have a publisher who knew the business and who could take care of me in an area where I have no talent or ability or knowledge than to try to do it myself. "I feel very lucky to have been able to sign with a very able, wise and honest man. And I underline honest because there are a lot of crooks out there that will make every deal they can, hoping to sign some young kid who has the greatest song in the world, make a fortune and pay the kid as little as possible. Unfortunately, that goes on out there. But you trust your heart and look for a guy who can do the things you can't do." Denver says Akum has built Cherry Lane into one of the best publishing companies in the world and he has always been very happy with his affiliation with them. After more than 20 years with Cherry Lane, Denver says Akum approached him about starting a new company. "We have now established a new company called Cherry Mountain Music of which we share ownership," John explains. "It was Milt's idea and his offer. He said ‘John it's appropriate you get a part of the business end of it too'." When asked if he had a specific method or approach to writing songs, Denver replies that he is a very unstructured writer. "I don't sit down every day and try to write a song. For some people, it's like a job and that's what they do. They go in and try to write a song," he says. "For me it quite often begins with a phrase like ‘leaving on a jet plane' or ‘follow me' or ‘back home again' or ‘sunshine on my shoulders'. "What'll happen there'll be a phrase or line that I've come up with. When I'm driving I'll start writing the song in my head. Then when I get to a guitar, I'll sit and play it on the guitar until the rest of the song comes. Some songs come very quickly. I wrote "Annie's Song" in 10 minutes one day on a ski lift - that's how I know it was 10 minutes. Then other songs like "Rocky Mountain High" took about six or seven months to write." Denver says he believes a songwriter instinctively knows when a song is finished and says he very rarely rewrites a song once he's finished it. "You take whatever time it takes and when it's done, it's done," Denver says. "I'm one of those that feels the song has a life of its own and in my songwriting I want whatever comes through me to be true to the song. I try to be true to the song, true to the music." Denver says he collaborates occasionally, but for the most part prefers to write on his own. He cites Joe Henry as the only other songwriter he's collaborated with to a great extent. "If I get stuck lyrically, he's the person I call," Denver says then adds, "I've never gotten stuck musically." "Windsong" is one of the tunes Denver and Henry wrote together. "We sat up one night and talked about the wind," Denver recalls. "Joe and I wanted to write a song about the wind and we talked and talked. I put out all these ideas and pictures I had in my head and he took notes. He stayed at my house that night and the next morning I got up and he had gone. The song was written out on a piece of paper on the kitchen table. So then the song was there and that gave birth to the music." Even though he had hits and seemed to master the craft of songwriting at an early age, Denver says he's continually improved upon his craft and feels his writing has changed over the years. "It's more mature," he states. "It comes out of being able to look more honestly at the feelings, look a little deeper inside, articulate things in a broader way." Though his situation and his perspective on some topics may have changed since he wrote them, Denver says when he hears one of his songs, it always takes him back to the point of reference and feeling from which it was written. "Annie's Song" is a great example," he says leaning forward in his seat and smiling. "What the song makes me feel is what I felt when I wrote the song, not all the other stuff. It's a great love song and what it is about is being in love. That's what it makes me think about regardless what happened between me and Annie [Denver's ex-wife]. "When I sing "Annie's Song" and when I hear it, it's about being in love and that's what I think about. I don't think about being in hate or divorce, and see that's why it's such a good song because it brings that out of you. It opens up that inside of you regardless. There was a time when I had a pretty hard shell around my heard in regard to Annie, but I could still sing that song because the song made me think and feel being in love." The thing that caught the listener's ears in the 60s and continues to be Denver's greatest asset as a songwriter is his ability to strike an emotional chord in his audience through simple, direct, clearly expressed feelings brought to life with vivid imagery. In songs as diverse as "Rocky Mountain High," "Calypso" and "Grandma's Feather Bed," Denver not only tells the listener what he's feeling, he takes them to that place with him. A prime example is the short, soaring "The Eagle and The Hawk." As Denver sings "I am the Eagle, I live in high country in rocky though they were swooping and soaring from the peaks. The ability to move people with music is something that Denver is not sure can be taught through seminars and workshops. "I think you can be taught the craft, the technical ability, the rhyme and meter," he says. "You can be taught all that...but I think songwriting is the ability to articulate in a musical way and lyrical way an experience, a feeling, a memory, a vision in such a way that someone else can hear that lyric or listen to that piece of music and have it mean something to them. "I think that's a gift and I don't know that you can learn how to do that. I think you can learn how to more clearly articulate yourself, you can learn how to better communicate your ideas or feelings, but to really be able to sit down and do that is a gift." His advice to others who have that gift and are learning to share it is simple. "Don't try too hard. Don't copy anybody," he states. "Just let it come through you."

Bubba An Underlying Current In Steve Earle’s Songs (1989)

Steve Morley — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 14:00:29 +0000

The following article originally appeared in the March/April 1989 edition of American Songwriter. Click here to purchase this issue. I got a job but it ain't nearly enough A twenty thousand dollar pickup truck Belongs to me and the bank and some funny talkin' man from Iran I left the service, got a G.I. loan I got married, bought myself a home Now I hang around this one-horse town and do the best that I can. -from "Good Ol' Boy (Getting' Tough)" With these words, Bubba was born. More correctly, it was with these words that Bubba was consciously given an identity. He's existed for generations in small towns where there's little to do but "drive down to the lake and turn back around." Bubba may not be worldly, but he isn't stupid, and it's important to Steve Earle for people to realize that. Why should Steve care? Because Bubba's a close buddy of his. He's taken the heat for the controversial singer/songwriter more than once, when lines like "some funny talkin' man from Iran," and "you can't get far on thirty-seven dollars and a Jap guitar," resulted in accusations of bigotry. "Giving Bubba a name and a face," Earle explains, "started with me having to defend charges of jingoism, because of songs I've written. If you write in the first person, like I do, you have to develop characters. Otherwise the songs become very one-dimensional." The fact that critical listeners hurled such accusations at Earle is a testament to the realism of his characters. Speaking in the first person, Steve-as-Bubba was so convincing that Steve appeared to be his characters rather than simply being their mouthpiece. Earle is the first to admit that Bubba's opinions are somewhat uninformed, but he prefers not to settle for an easy stereotype when it comes to describing Bubba and his ilk. "When Northerners call us rednecks," he says, "I get irritated. People make quick stereotypes about other people without understanding why they think the way they do. Writing conversationally, I have to know what sounds right for a given character. Bubba was born out of trying to get inside a character and understand why they make the statements they make," says Earle. Earle perhaps described Bubba best in an interview for Music Row magazine, while discussing the character's importance as a songwriting tool. "Bubba works for a living. His world is thirty minutes of TV news that he watches when he's very tired, and he doesn't understand why everything that's happening is happening to him. So he lashes out at the first thing that's convenient. Bubba's probably a little prejudiced and narrow-minded about some things, but not everybody has time to drink wine and talk about politics," Earle says in defense of Bubba's limited perceptions. While Steve has proven his ability to breathe life into his characters on the page, they didn't just appear from up a nowhere road. They came in part from Earle's astute observation of people he's known. If he seems defensive about Bubba's short-comings, it isn't solely to protect the products of his imagination. It's also out of respect for the real individuals who have contributed significant portions to the rural hero of exit zero. While Steve's well-worn hitching thumb pointed him toward a lot of characters in his time, Bubba's most significant influences nonetheless come from the stomping grounds of Earle's youth --Jacksonville, Texas. "If Bubba's from anywhere, he's from Jacksonville, a deep South culture," Earle affirms. "Jacksonville has a population of about 10,000 --too small for anything to happen, but just big enough to hold you all your life," says Earle, summing up one of the major themes in his writing. "The people my dad grew up with there [in Jacksonville] are rednecks, but they're real smart. You can't imagine what they'd be like if they'd been born in a bigger town." One man Earle acknowledges as "a big part of Bubba" is his father's friend, Bill Willis. "He was a pipeliner, and he always managed to get laid off three days before deer hunting season. My dad used to say Bill Willis was his hero. Bill had a lot of control over his life. He had a little land, raised a few cattle, always had a nice truck...he made ends meet without a real job. "He and my dad hunted in a place south of Jacksonville called The Big Thicket. It was dense, like a rain forest. There were a lot of great storytellers out there, like Body George," Steve recalls. "He came from a poor, poor family --literally lived in a shack. By the time I was old enough to hunt, he was too old, so he just sat around and lied a lot. He used to swear there was a man in The Big Thicket that lived in the pine tops and ambushed deer with a knife. Later, when I got involved in folk music, I saw the parallels to that kind of storytelling. "That's the kind of storytelling I'm best at --straight-ahead narrative. It was much easier to write "Copperhead Road" than "My Old Friend the Blues," Steve admits, affirming the seemingly universal writer's fear of revealing too much of one's own self. It wasn't just a reluctance to lay open his own soul that gave Earle difficulty during his fledgling days as a songwriter --it was also the realization that "being middle class, I didn't have a damn thing to say." Taking his cue from Bob Dylan, who hid his own background behind an enigmatic persona patterned after folk legend Woody Guthrie, Earle set out to create an alter-ego of sorts. "In order to have something to write about, I'm guilty of intentionally creating some of the tension in my life," Earle says candidly. "My accent was picked up from hitchhiking around the South." With a knapsack full of experiences and potential characters derived from his travels--both past and present--Earle need not dig into his personal life for song ideas unless he wants to, as he did on the seemingly autobiographical "Hillbilly Highway" and "Guitar Town." "Highway" traces three generations and tells the story of how his father escaped what had formerly been his family's small-town legacy, giving Steve a shot at a formal education. Ironically, Steve turned it down in an attempt to de-program his middle-class mentality, preferring to get his education on the road. Not surprising, coming from a man whose strongest personal statement to date might well be contained in "I Ain't Ever Satisfied." "That song was written for medicinal purposes," says Earle in typically dry fashion. "I had written songs about other people for Exit 0, but it was missing me, so I felt I had to do that." Earle's presence in "Satisfied" however, doesn't make itself conspicuous --the song could easily be a typical Earle character study, suggesting that there's a bit of Steve Earle in most, if not all, the individuals which people his detailed, real-life lyrics. While it's unmistakable Bubba whose newfound freedom in "The Week Of Living Dangerously" begins with him tossing his kid's car seat in a nearby dumpster, it isn't that big a stretch to imagine a workaday-filled Earle getting a similar wild hair. In "Angry Young Man," only the final verse--in which the son's protagonist escapes the small town syndrome--separates Steve from Bubba. Meanwhile, more tender songs like "I Love You Too Much" and "You Belong To Me" might lead the listener to assume it couldn't be hard-headed Bubba. However, Earle insists that "the whole idea of Bubba is that he does have a sensitive side. He was tough, and had football pals, but he was different when he was with me. I really do treat him like someone I know. Bubba can talk to me about things he can't talk to anyone else about. That's why he hangs out with me. "He probably is more sensitive than he admits. In that sense, there isn't that much difference between us. I'm just more open about it." But whether it's fact or fiction or a combination of the two, Earle's songs are distinguished by a sense of disciplined craftsmanship that one might not expect from a writer with Earle's unconventional tendencies. "I don't take anything away from craftsmanship," Earle says. "Nashville is the last Tin Pan Alley. I encourage writers to learn from it, but also to find a way not to get caught up in it, to find their own thing. "My songs," Steve continues, "are more powerful and concise because I learned craftsmanship." While Earle's pen is as powerful as ever on his latest Uni LP, Copperhead Road, he admits that he "wasn't as conscious of Bubba on this album. The characters on Copperhead Road aren't as everyday. But Bubba's still alive. John Lee Pettimore (the pot-dealing Vietnam vet who kicks off the disc) is a version of Bubba. "Like Bubba on bad speed," Earle says with a slightly dark chuckle. Indeed, all of Earle's characters are related in one way or another, through their similarities to Earle himself and well as in the traits that he admires in them. "I'd rather be like them--this is, the real people they're based on--than like any archetypical intellectual I can think of," Earle admits. "They're still having to deal with stuff on a day-to-day basis, living in the real world. I have a lot of respect for that."

Alan Jackson Follows Dream To Nashville

Vernell Hackett — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 12:37:15 +0000

This article originally appeared in the May/June 1992 issue of American Songwriter. Despite the fact that he's written some of the biggest hits in country music in recent months - "Don't Rock The Jukebox" with Roger Murrah and Keith Stegall; "Someday" with Jim McBride; and "Better Class of Losers," recorded by and written with Randy Travis - Alan Jackson maintains the same demeanor about his writing that he projects onstage...a demeanor that implies that he isn't sure just how it is that he is able to write these hit songs that keep flowing from his pen onto paper. It's that "aw shucks" and boy-next-door style that has endeared Jackson to the many fans who have started listening to him since his first hit, "Here In The Real World" (which he also wrote, this one with Mark Irwin). In fact, Jackson's name is on all the songs on his first album, and on all but one of his second recording. Jackson isn't one of those songwriters who knew from the beginning that he would be a writer. Early on, he never paid much attention to the names listed as writers on the records he bought. He was more interested in the singing aspect of the business, and it wasn't until a musician who played in a rock band around Atlanta advised him that if he intended to come to Nashville, he'd better have some original material, that Jackson even considered sitting down to write a song. The fact of the matter was, Jackson really hadn't considered that a career in music was possible; he felt it more of a dream until one day, a friend who grew up in the little town of Newnan, Georgia with him followed his dream and became an airline pilot. That set Jackson to thinking that maybe dreams can come true, and put him on a course that eventually would lead him to Nashville. The dream became reality for his friend right out of high school, but it was a few years later before Jackson would pursue his own dream. It just happened that about the same time he was thinking that he should do this, his wife Denise changed jobs and he found himself alone one summer while she worked out of Charlotte, N.C. Since there wasn't much else to do after he got home from work, he started to write songs. "I don't know, I didn't really study anybody's songs, but I had heard and sang enough to know the basic structure of a song, so I just sat down and started writing," Jackson said of his first venture into songwriting. He quickly admitted, however, that none of those songs made it onto either of his albums; in fact, he would just as soon not show them to anyone in Nashville. "Some of them were fair, I guess, but I wouldn't want to play them for anyone now," he said with a laugh. Once in Nashville, Jackson went to work at The Nashville Network in the mailroom, continuing to write because now that he was actually in town, he quickly found that not only was it not going to be an easy task to make music his career, he still had to write songs because it was hard for a newcomer such as himself to get songs pitched to him. Ironically, it was his wife who made the initial contact with a publishing company which brought him his first salaried job as a songwriter. Going though an airport one day, Denice saw Glen Campbell, and because of Alan she went up to him, introduced herself, and said she and her husband were getting ready to move to Nashville and did he have any advice to offer? Campbell gave her a business card from his publishing company, and Jackson made contact with personnel at the company as soon as he could after moving to Nashville. Though they didn't hear a hit song right away, they encouraged the young man to keep in touch, and a year later the publishing company signed Jackson to a publishing agreement. He was still without a recording contract, however, and with his songs improving, Jackson was hesitant to let any of them go to other artists, and the publishing company was very patient about that. However, "Here In The Real World" did get pitched, and cut, by a new artist on Warner Brothers Records. Something happened, the song was never released, and Jackson got it back, just in time to record it on a session for his new label, Arista Records. "I still don't pitch many of my songs," Jackson said. "I might pitch something every now and then, if there's something in the catalog that I just don't think would be something I would cut." Of course Jackson has had a cut by another artist, namely Randy Travis, with whom he wrote when the two were touring together last year. "I was touring with Randy and he wanted to write, so we just did it," Jackson recalled how the two of them started writing together. Now that their schedules are so totally different, and the two no longer travel together, "it's really hard to get together to write now." Nevertheless, the collaboration yielded the aforementioned "Better Class Of Losers" as well as "Allergic To The Blues," "I'd Surrender All" and "Forever Together," all on Travis' latest album. Jackson managed to snag one for himself, "From A Distance," which is on his "Don't Rock The Jukebox" album, and he has been quoted as saying he'd like to have a little better timing on the duo's next writing sessions. "It was close to time for Randy to record, so he got first choice on the songs we wrote," explained Jackson. "Maybe next time it'll be the other way around." Jackson said he likes to co-write, but he also likes to write by himself. One thing co-writing taught him, he emphasized, is that you don't always take the first line that comes along. "I'm real impatient, and co-writing helped me learn not to take that first line, to always strive to write one a little better, one phrased a little differently," Jackson said. "I learned you have to work at getting the line just right so they all will flow into each other throughout the song." One of the hardest things about writing along, Jackson admits, is the discipline of sitting down and actually writing. He writes about real things, and said those songs which come from heart are the songs that come across better when they are recorded and an audience finally gets to hear them. "When I write, I just sit down and write for myself, something I might like with no one in particular in mind," Jackson said his writing sessions. "I try to write things that sound good for what I enjoy singing." While Jackson said he gets ides from everywhere, he said a song is usually not worth pursuing if you can't get the hook right away, or if you can't come up with any really good lines. However, there are always exceptions to the rule. "Jim McBride and I were writing and we had this idea, "Short Sweet Ride," that we were kicking around. He played me a piece of melody and a couple of lines. It sounded like a part of a chorus but without a hook. Within a couple of sessions we had written three verses and the chorus, but we still lacked what I consider the most important line, the hook. Then we spent one whole day looking for that line which came to be "It's a short sweet ride on a runaway train." When asked how he knows when to stop writing on a song, Jackson said he takes a song and lives with it a couple days, then goes back to listen to it and see if it flows and makes sense. If it does, he considers it finished. If not, he goes back to work to make it into a better song. Because he is so busy, Jackson finds time to write more on the road than he does when he's home, due in part to the fact that he wants to spend time with his 20-month old daughter, Mattie Denise. "I like to spend time with my family when I'm off the road, so it's really hard to write then," Jackson said. "there is more time on the road, but you still have to make yourself write, you still have to have that discipline, to sit down and write a song. " Citing Merle Haggard, Bob McDill, Hank Williams Sr. and Max D. Barnes among his favorite writers, Jackson said he would like to get cuts by Jones of Haggard. "Actually, I have a couple songs that I should send to them," he conceded. Jackson's advice to new writers is simple: "Write what you believe in," he advised. "Some of my number one songs were songs that other people didn't believe in. It (success) will come if you are where you are supposed to be."

Q&A: DON WILLIAMS

Kelly Delaney — Thu, 06 May 2010 12:00:59 +0000

This article originally appeared in the January/February 1988 issue of American Songwriter.

Few artists ever achieve the level of quality and consistency that is reflected in the music Don Williams has chosen to record. One might say he has one of the highest all-time slugging percentages in the history of country music. He's released more than 20 albums, five of which are certified gold by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). Williams has racked up more than 40 hit singles and some 20 of them have reached the top of the national charts. It's not talent alone that has made Williams one of the giants of country music. As he readily admits, much of the credit is due the songwriters and the songs upon which his career has been built. "The entire weight of everything I do is in the songs," he says. He has recorded some bonafide masterpieces. Among the list of gems are such shining examples as "Amanda" (Bob McDill), "I Believe In You" (Roger Cook/Sam Hogin), "Tulsa Time" (Danny Flowers), "Some Broken Hearts Never Mend" (Wayland Holyfield), "The Ties That Bind" (Vin Corso/Clyde Otis), "Good Ole Boys Like Me" (Bob McDill), "Walkin' A Broken Heart" (Alan Rush/Dennis Linde) and "Maggie's Dream" (Dave Loggins/Lisa Silver). Although Williams' longtime co-producer, Garth Fundis, screens much of the material submitted for consideration, Williams has the final say in what eventually gets recorded. No one can argue with the results of this method, either. And surprisingly, the songs Williams has selected haven't always been the safe bets, songs that are commercially in the pocket. He's taken some chances. "I've said lots of time, thank God for left field - songs like "Maggie's Dream," "Good Ole Boys Like Me" and "Amanda", he notes. "Those things that just come to me from left field." One has to wonder if "Good Ole Boys Like Me" would have every gotten recorded were it not for Williams' convictions about quality songs. One of the finest songs ever written might still be wound around a reel on a publisher's shelf if Williams hadn't believed the song deserved a chance to be heard. As more than one songwriter has observed, "Thank God for singers like Don Williams." How would you compare the quality of songs today to that of when you started recording? I think one of the biggest problems that we always have is tat you’ll go along for a period of time and songs kind of get into certain feels, making statements a certain way. At first they’re real fresh because it’s a little different approach. But then we have so many people that get in that vein that after a while they start sounding slick. It’s not that they’re not good songs. At least for me – let me qualify this whole thing – they start feeling kind of slick and I start looking for something else that I feel is a little more direct and fresher. “Maggie’s Dream” came out of just such a search I imagine. I’m always thankful for songs like that. To me it’s a universal observation of some aspect of life. Do you ask writers to make little changes in their songs so that they might be better suited for you? I have to do that fairly often and I’m always real concerned that it’s acceptable to the writer. I never want to change someone’s song, but I have to make it to where it fits me at the same time, or I can’t do it. Have you ever had someone object to making some changes? I’ve been real fortunate; I’ve never had that happen yet. What’s the old saying, songs being like children? I think most writers when they start, they can’t stand the thought of someone else being involved in their thoughts. They’re such a personal thing with them. It is kind of like kids in a way. You go through a stage where your kids are perfect. There’s just nobody who could ever say a thing about how they look or act. Then after you get a little older and they get a little older, you begin to realize – if you’re realistic about it – they’re people and nobody’s perfect. I think songs are the same way. There are a lot of times when a writer won’t see in a song what someone else may see. It may be a better song than the writer thought, or it may not be as good as they thought. Are there any types of songs that you simply would not record? I really don’t know what kind of song it would be – if it was the old triangle song or a boozer song, I don’t know what it would take for me to be interested in it. I’m not going to say I wouldn’t ever be interested in a song that was dealing with that, but it would really have to be an unusual observation, something that I felt like would benefit someone. (Editor’s Note: On his latest album, Traces, Williams recorded a song, “Another Place, Another Time,” written by Bob McDill and Paul Harrison, which is exactly the kind of song that makes an unusual observation). So you feel the artist has some responsibility not to endorse potentially harmful ideas through his or her music? I feel very responsible to that. I don’t know of anything that’s as small an industry as entertainment that affects as many lives. I think it’s a sad situation when people totally take an attitude that they shouldn’t be responsible, that they don’t need to be responsible for what they talk about or how they act. It shouldn’t be a crippling kind of weight; I think it’s just an awareness. How do you go about listening to songs when you’re looking for material to record? I have one of those Walkman type deals that I listen on. I listen at home, going down the road, or whatever. Basically, I listen when I’m alone. If I’m heavy into it I get off by myself at home and do some serious listening. Do you listen to the songs all the way through? It depends. There are some that I don’t listen to all the way through because there are already so many things that have happened that are a little objectionable to me. Or, it’s an interest level that isn’t there; it’s nothing objectionable, it just doesn’t do anything to me. But if it’s even marginal I’ll listen to the whole song. Do you look to see who wrote the song? I’m not really that interested in who wrote it when I’m initially listening to it. There are a lot of times when I do know who wrote it before I listen, but it’s not an issue. What common mistake do you see in songs submitted to you? For me, I think one of the biggest mistakes that I see people make is that part of writing where they’re really plugged into a community. From each community of writers there emerges kind of an overview that is very successful. So, they all, whether they consciously realize it or not, they all start adjusting to this overview. I think it gets to a point where the overview is really dictating the terms of what a song is going to say or its basic structure. So, you prefer songs that aren’t contrived or formula patterned? I like songs the best that are not a constructed effort in that arena. I like songs people write that they sit down, and it’s a real personal statement because that’s the way they felt at that moment and they don’t care if anyone ever records it. It’s that intense of a statement from a person – those are the songs I love the best. It’s true that trends develop and hit sounds become kind of cookie-cutter patterned after each other. It’s not that they’re not exemplifying their control of the craft. It’s the same thing in the studio because you have at your disposal such an incredible array of electronics that you can lose the emotion of it all by becoming so technical. I guess that’s what I’m saying about writing – when it becomes that technical, I hear very few songs like that that I care anything about. It feels contrived; it may be the cleverest thing and wonderfully, slickly put together, but it somehow or another loses the emotion of the thing. Have you ever recorded any songs that were written expressly for you? I could be wrong, but I don’t think I ever cut a song that somebody sat down and wrote for me. Most of the ones people sit down and write for me, it’s a reflection of something I’ve already done. I’m not interested in doing what I’ve already done again if I can help it. I guess that’s why it turns me off. Do you like to be pitched full demos? A lot of times I would prefer that it was not a demo – just the writer and a guitar or piano. Demos can go one of two ways for you. If it’s a demo that helps, sometimes it’ll help a lot. But by the same token, I think there are demos that close the door because it takes you in a direction that maybe you don’t want to go in. It’ll color the attitude you might have about the song. Without the demo you might have viewed it another way. Do you like to look at a lyric sheet while listening? The only way I’ll look at a lyric sheet is if I absolutely cannot understand the words. I prefer not to. I would rather sit there and listen to it because that’s much more the way the average person is going to hear it. Everybody doesn’t sit there with a lyric sheet when they’re driving down the road. Comment on song lyrics, what should they do for you? If a thought’s not clear or if a word is used out of context in some cleverish way to be where Joe Blow out in Kansas is not going to understand it, then it serves no purpose. I like for the statement to feel real and direct, but in some way fresh. I don’t want to have to figure it out. I like it right out front. So for you it really does all begin with a song. Without the songs, you can be the best artist in the world, have the best production, but if you cut a bad song it’s just a bad song with an incredible production. That’s what it all boils down to. That’s not to say that a good production can’t help, but it’s all the songs. I mean for every really fine song there are any number or artists that could have a hit with it. It sounds like what you want writers to do is pitch you their best songs whether or not they think it’s for you. That’s exactly right.