A couple of weeks ago Patty and I were dining at Cracker Barrel and,
while we were waiting to be seated, I saw this CD of Americas Greatest Cowboy Songs. A group of guys that call
themselves Riders in the Sky have perfected the old country sound in award
winning fashion. Even their attire on the CD cover was 40's and 50's western.The melodies are sweet, the harmonies velvety tight, and the instruments maintain a steady down stroke rhythm. The sound was pure 1940’s country gold, and as I listened, I found myself being carried back to my childhood.
I bought the recording as a novelty because I hadn’t heard
songs like Back In The Saddle Again, Cool
Water, and Tumbling Tumble Weeds, played
and sung true to the original 40's and 50's sound, for many, many years. I have been a folk rock and cross-over country player for most of my life. The old country and western songs of my parents and grandparents time were fading fast by the time I was a solid musician. I hadn't disliked the old songs, I just moved on to a different genre. So, I thought I might get a chuckle out of the old tunes...from when Country Music was honestly country. About half way through the first track though, I felt my emotions change. I had put in the CD just for
fun, but the excellent instrumentals and harmonic vocals were so solid, and so like I remembered hearing the old songs, that I
found myself lost in time travel to the places and sounds of the long ago.
I came from a family
of guitar players on both sides, and I wanted to play the guitar from the time I
was able to walk I think. My folks have a picture of me when I was five
with my Mickey Mouse guitar. At age eight, I began begging for my Dad to teach me how
to play his six string guitar. One day he called me in to the living room. I remember that a
gentle summer breeze was blowing the curtains in the windows. A glass of sweet tea
was on the coffee table. Dad was sitting on the couch holding his old Harmony.
He said “sit down” and put the guitar on my lap, draped my right arm over the
beautifully painted wooden body of the instrument, and extended my left arm to the neck. I’ll
never forget the feel of that old big bodied acoustical guitar that was almost
as big as I was.
Dad helped me get my fingers formed on the strings to make a
chord. He taught me until I knew how to finger three chords, then got up and left.
I exercised my fingers to bend over the strings, in order to make the
sound I needed. When Dad didn’t come back after a bit, I went to find him. I remember
saying “I thought you were going to teach me to learn to play the way you learned.” Dad smiled and said “I did. I was showed a couple of chords and figured
out the rest myself. Just keep playing, son, the rest will come. ” So, I did. That's how I learned
to play by ear.
Hours of trying this and that, learning a new chord here and
new note there, and loving every minute of it, helped me over time to develop into a decent
guitar player. Over the years, I learned to hear a song on the radio and go home and play it with out any sheet music. I did learn to read music later on, but developing a keen ear for the chords and notes as a boy has served me all my life.
Like my dad, my
uncles, great aunts, cousins, and grandpa, I was hooked from that first day of fretting that old instrument. I would play
for hours out of every day. I can’t tell you the number of times that I fell
asleep with my guitar on my lap, after hours of playing late in the evening. I Loved
playing, it never grew old. It never has. My first performance was at Show and Tell in the fourth grade. I played and sang Tom Dooley. I loved the applause.
Today I play my acoustic 12 string the most. I have had number of guitars over my
lifetime, from department store models to top of the line professional instruments. But the
guitar music my mind was replaying, as I listened to the old music of this CD, was coming from Dad’s old round
top Harmony.
As the tracks played one after another, I could hear my Dad and
his brother, my Uncle Bobby, singing the two Hanks; Hank Williams and Hank
Snow. I heard my Papaw Armstrong playing Sons of The Pioneers; on those rare
occasions when he would break out his flat top and sing. I could hear the sound of those old tube radios in the 1950's autos, with the wind in our hair and music in the air. The sounds and feelings of decades ago, came back to me as fresh as that mornings sun.
I'm well aware that not all of the "good old days" were good, but most everyone is in solid agreement that they were less complicated. It was a simpler time
then, and the music was simple. Old country stories of family, hard work, good horses,
or love lost, sung with the feeling that comes from experiencing life in all
its ups and downs, in all its joys and sorrows. Simple pleasures, simple songs...simply beautiful as I looked back and remembered them this time.
I injured my right arm and shoulder a couple of years ago, and the operation that was performed to correct the problem was less than successful.
I found after my surgery that I could not tolerate my arm positioned around my acoustic guitar. I was used to
playing for as long as two hours a night; now I couldn’t handle my arm in that
position for more than a few minutes. It was disheartening. But, I pushed
myself through the pain. I am still pushing. I will get back to my previous
level. After all, I have loved that string instrument all my life, and I’m not
ready to give it up. And I can still feel that Kentucky breeze as it blows past
the curtains in the window, and hear my Dad saying “Just keep playing, son, the
rest will come." And play I will, until I'm 'back in the saddle again'.
For more on Riders In The Sky http://ridersinthesky.com/
