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Iconoclastic and eccentric,
brilliant and angry, kindhearted and cold. To some, Chris Wall
is one or more of these things. To those who care to listen
and truly hear, he is capable of being all of them. Without
him, many of the Texas music anthems we crank up in our beat
up trucks wouldn't be here. From Montana to Texas, Wall understands
the cowboy way better than most and doesn't apologize for being
who he is, no matter who begs to differ or wish he was different.
There are certainly those who take that as reason to ignore
him and his music. Ignoring the man because of personal bias
can be excused, but ignoring the music is a different story.
At times Wall can be formulaic, his arrangements too spare,
his lyrics too easy. But the vast majority of the time he is
a cowboy storyteller of the first order whose songs and the lessons
they spring from can weave gold from the spider web of Texas
music. Wall isn't often heard from where new CDs are concerned,
partly because of personality and partly for reasons stemming
from a label agreement we won't touch on here, other than to
say we think it's a robbery and needs to be rectified. Soon.
But for today, let's step out of the current of new releases
and revisit a night where Wall touched greatness and held it
softly with the help of some friends.
Back in 1996, Chris played Gruene Hall on the evening of
March 2nd. Pure Texas music in a pure Texas dancehall on Texas
Independence Day. In Chris' words,
I have found fertile ground here in Texas. It's where
the ghosts and the stories live. They haunt these old dancehalls
and they can be found frolicking on any Saturday night. The
trick is to catch a few, like fireflies in a jar, and light up
the night. At Gruene we made a few sparks fly. Come on in and
listen.
Chris Wall
October, 1996
In true cowboy style, Chris understated the results of that
evening in Gruene. Just a couple hundred yards up the hill from
the babbling waters of the Guadalupe, Wall and the boys-along
with some friends you'll recognize-did Travis and Bowie proud.
Men once bled and died for a free Texas where a man could be
a man, and Chris Wall sings songs about the men who live out
the realization of that dream every day. Any Saturday Night
In Texas is five years old, and I'll bet you've heard most
of the songs by now one way or the other. It just might be time
to revisit 'em one by one. From "I Feel Like Singin' Along"
and its heartfelt tribute to Hank Williams and tip of the hat
to every young starry-eyed songwriter since, to "Damn Good
Time" and its story of beer and pistols and the highway
patrol, this is mythical Texas lived out in the neon and sweat
of honkytonks and beat up trucks and lost highways.
In some south Austin music store
A kid buys a guitar
He only knows one thing for sure
He's gonna be a star.
And you wanna scream
"Kid don't do it,
You can't stop it once it starts."
But something old inside your soul
Says "God bless your precious heart."
There's "Wild Bill and the Montana Kid," a tale
you and I can get lost in thinking about a father or an uncle
or a granddad who taught us how to be a man with simple things
like a straight razor and a straighter spine. "Independence
Day," about them good old boys who took to the wall, raised
that Lone Star flag so tall, Santa Anna killed 'em, to the very
last man, but that bastard's gone and Texas still stands. "The
Lines On My Forehead" is every relationship we look back
on. Good, bad, indifferent, flat out ugly, flat out broke.
All of 'em. Stories from all of our lives are here, and some
from the lives we wish we'd lived. Universal truths, steeped
in steel guitars.
Old friends are everywhere on this disc as well. There's
Kelly Willis adding understated and soulful heartfelt loss in
her harmony vocals on "Miles Of Rodeo." Kelly and
Chris are joined on this cut by Bruce Robison, whose marriage
to Kelly proves he didn't make the same mistakes as the cowboy
in this song. Lucky bastard. On the back nine there's Mary
Cutrufello riffing like mad on "Damn Good Time," thanks
to Jimmy Dale Gilmore --who cut his own show short that night
so Mary could play with Chris at Gruene Hall. Let's see Tim
McGraw do THAT for Kenny Chesney. Then there's the song Django
Walker could easily have drawn inspiration from when penning
his current Pat Green hit, "Texas On My Mind." The
tune is called "Ship Me Back to Texas," and Wall co-wrote
it with the inimitable Dale Watson, who showed up to perform
it as a duet this particular evening.
Pour me a glass of Jim Beam,
Pour me back on a plane,
And ship me back to Texas-
I'm goin' insane.
Nashville's such a lonely town,
But they say that it's the only town
Where you can lay your music down
And lay your soul upon the line.
But where are all the hats and boots
And who are all these 3-piece suits?
Like tumbleweeds without roots
They're just blowin' in the wind.
The wide-ranging tastes and styles of Chris Wall's guests
that evening say a lot about the man, but they say more about
this thing we call Texas music. From stone cold traditional
country to cowboy music to alt.country to serious rock and roll,
these musicians cover the bases extraordinarily well. All are
recognized and respected widely in the music industry, though
none have garnered serious commercial success in the States.
In this setting, around the centerpiece of Wall's simple storytelling,
they weave a tapestry that cannot be fully appreciated or understood
on the first listen. This is not a beer drinking honky tonk
album, although "Damn Good Time" would fit on one.
It's not a sorrowful narrative on loves lost and chances missed,
but "Miles Of Rodeo" does bring home memories of the
worst of those. It's not a rowdy good-timing who-needs-her-anyway
compilation of manly kiss-off songs, though "33 Reasons
to Say Goodbye" might be the best one of that genre you've
ever heard. Instead, it's a compilation of thoughts and dreams
and pains and fears and hungers and joys that can do nothing
else but make one stop and think. It has songs about Texas,
and songs about beer, (none about Luckenbach, though), but at
its soul it's an album that cleanly ties those ideas and activities
to the things that truly make being a Texan something worth being
proud of. It does so without ever clearly saying what or how-which
is part of the whole point. Some things that matter are to be
understood and shared and realized in silence, not voiced through
the frailty of human language that cannot always convey higher
meanings as it should. At its core, Any Saturday Night In
Texas is a simple journey through the land this reviewer
loves, and a showcase of the lives and dreams that make that
land special. In Chris' simple words, tying it all together
in gratitude for the chance to touch some lives,
". . .and last but not least, our thanks and the blame
for many a bad hangover go to James White at the Broken Spoke,
Karin Barnes at Blanco's, Joe Dulle at the White Elephant, Steve
Laughlin at Floore's Country Store, Willie Bennett at the Dixie
Theatre and all the others who keep the honky-tonks open any
Saturday night in Texas."
If you don't have it already, get yourself a copy of Any
Saturday Night In Texas. It's Texas, pure and simple,
hard knocks and lessons learned, loves won and lost, bare knuckles
and cold longnecks, old dogs and trusted horses, family and friends
and life worth living.
And Chris, wherever you are out there on that cold blue highway,
it's time for more. The cowboy nation misses you more than you
know.
You can contact David Pilot at:
tailgunner-at-rockzilla.net
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