LISTEN: Christian Parker, “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere”

Artist: Christian Parker
Hometown: Canton, New York
Song: “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere”
Album: Sweethearts
Release Date: August 18, 2023

In Their Words: “I first heard this song by Bob Dylan on an acoustic guitar. But I was hooked when I listened to the opening pedal steel guitar from The Byrds’ Sweetheart of the Rodeo album. This song has been in my repertoire for decades, and it felt like I was recording an old friend! Tracer James’ interpretation of Lloyd Green’s pedal steel guitar perfectly opens the Sweethearts tribute. Earl Poole Ball played piano on the original album; hearing him on this tribute is a testament to his influence on the 1968 classic album! ‘You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere’ is the opening track on the Sweethearts album, and it sounds like a train leaving the station and moving on down the tracks.” – Christian Parker


Photo Credit: Morgan Elliott

Colter Wall Revives Western Country on ‘Songs of the Plains’

He’s only 23 years old, but Western Canadian musician Colter Wall has created an album which echoes through time with Songs of the Plains.

A traditional Western love letter to the wide open, often-frozen prairies of his native Saskatchewan, Wall’s sophomore project once again highlights booming baritone vocals and an appreciation for historic sounds – but it’s more living artifact than relic of the past. Mixing originals in with covers of Canadian classics like “Calgary Round Up” (by Wilf Carter), “Night Herding Song” and “Tying Knots in the Devil’s Tail” (both cowboy traditionals), its 11 tracks feels as fresh as the first wildflower bloom of spring.

Dave Cobb produced Songs of the Plains, with Canadian country stalwarts Corb Lund and Blake Berglund joining harmonica great Mickey Raphael and pedal steel legend Lloyd Green as guests. But it’s Wall’s youthful enthusiasm for the genre – and his timeless approach to song craft – which stands out. He spoke with The Bluegrass Situation about his love for Saskatchewan, working with his heroes and what it’s like recreating a good-old-fashioned campfire song.

You grew up in Saskatchewan, and Songs of the Plains is very much a Western album. What makes a life out West different? Why does it lend itself to inspiring its own genre?

That’s a great question. Just like any place, the people have an entirely unique culture, and we have our way of doing things, our own way of talking and our own way of telling stories. When I think of the West, because of its history and because of the way people romanticize it, it’s sort of a land of myth. It’s a land of harsh realities and a sort of mythos – one of wild, tall tales. And it’s been painted in a lot of different ways, often by people who aren’t actually from that part of the world.

Not many people are doing this kind of music anymore. How did you get turned on to traditional Western music, especially being such a young guy?

Well I’m just a huge fan of traditional music in general and have been for a long time. … I love those old tales and folk songs and how they’re so rooted in people, being passed down from year to year, changing and shifting over time. I’ve always been fascinated by that. Probably the first cowboy songs that I heard and really dug – and tried to learn – were done by Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, who was notorious for doing cowboy and Western songs, but he played folk music from all over. He would also play Blind Lemon Jefferson songs and Woody Guthrie songs, bluegrass traditionals, country traditionals, and then those old cowboy songs. So I had been listening to his catalog and stuff like Jimmie Rodgers and from there I started to dive down the rabbit hole and discovered all the greats like Marty [Robbins], Tex Ritter, and all those guys.

I really love the opening track, “Plain to See Plainsman.” It seems like autobiography, so what did getting away from home teach you about it?

The short answer is that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I had always loved Saskatchewan, but I didn’t realize how much until I moved down here [to Nashville] and started to travel around a lot. I think I became more interested in our history and culture. Before [moving] I was aware of it, but maybe not trying to actively learn about it and write about it.

“Saskatchewan in 1881” speaks right into that history, right? It’s kind of a warning to a city slicker from Toronto about what he’ll find if he comes West looking to get rich. Why did you set the story in 1881?

That’s my take on prairie humor. The 1880s are when they first started to ship people out to the Western Provinces – and they weren’t even provinces yet, they were territories. The people in the cities back East had just realized that we had all these natural resources out West, so they started surveying the areas and sending people out to settle them. That started in the early 1880s, so the premise was to tell in a humorous way about the lives of people and what life might have been like back then, having to deal with all the frustrations of frontier life. It’s kind of a regional joke.

You’ve got Mickey Raphael and Lloyd Green on this album, and they add so much Western flavor. What was it like bringing those guys on board?

I had known I wanted Mickey to play on the record long before we went into the studio. I had met him probably a year ago at a show where he was part of the house band, and I was already a huge fan. I think he’s the best harmonica player in the world. Since then he’s been really nice and supportive and kept in touch, so that was just a matter of waiting to get in the studio.

With Lloyd, I have to be honest. I wasn’t even aware he was still around. I told Dave [Cobb] I wanted some pedal steel, and he said ‘Why don’t we get Lloyd Green?’ My eyes about fell out of my head. So we called Lloyd and sure enough he came down. I helped him carry his stuff in, then I got to hear him play pedal steel on my songs for about an hour – which was pretty incredible – and then after that I got to listen to him tell stories about playing with [George] Jones and [Johnny] Paycheck, all these legends. It was surreal.

The power and depth of your vocal has always stood out. Does it still surprise people?

The most common thing I get is ‘How old are you?’ And I tell them, and then there’s always some surprise there.

When did you notice you had this deep, timeless baritone of singing voice?

I’ve been working at it for a long time. When I turned 18 I had been trying to sing, and it wasn’t really working out, but I realized I could sing low a little bit in the baritone register. It felt natural, so I kept doing it, and I’m still working at it. I feel like these three records, to me they’re like little stepping stones on my road of trying to figure out how to sing. Listen to that first EP and then the first album, there’s quite a difference in the vocal. And then if you listen to this new record, this is the first time I’ve felt comfortable and like I had control over my voice. I think it sounds better.

You let your voice stand on its own on “Night Herding Song,” and I read you left the studio to record that. How did that decision happen?

We tried to cut it in the studio, but the thing about RCA [Studio A] is that it’s a really big room, but it’s a studio so it’s kind of dead in there – there’s no natural reverb. I don’t record with headphones on, so singing a capella in a room like that, it’s kind of hard to hear. It just wasn’t working out, so we decided to go out to Dave’s house – this tucked-away little spot in the trees with a studio in the basement. But just outside the studio is this patio and fire pit, and we figured we’d cut it outside, just pull the microphone out the door. I was really trying to get a campfire vibe going on, which is a cowboy tradition, and really went with the nature of the song. So I went out there and started a little fire, and recorded it that way. It was a lot easier, and it turned out great.

Did this project satisfy your urge to make a real Western album? Where will you go from here?

Yeah, I’m pretty pleased with the way it turned out. I had more of an idea of what I wanted going into the studio than ever before, and I’m proud of it. As for the future, I’ve got a few ideas of where I might want to go, but it’s hard to say this early. I’ve been playing a lot more shows with my new band, and we’ve been messing around with some interesting sounds, but I just hope people enjoy this one when it comes out. After that we can start worrying about the next one.


Photo credit: Little Jack Films

MIXTAPE: Lloyd Green & Jay Dee Maness’s Steely History

Fifty years ago, the Byrds set out on an ambitious path to deeper explore the country music they had flirted with on previous records with Sweetheart of the Rodeo. In addition to introducing Gram Parsons to a larger audience, it was the first country-rock record to be recorded by an established rock act. The record continues to open the eyes of new generations to country music. Recorded in March of 1968 in Nashville, Tennessee, and April of the same year in Los Angeles, California, the original record utilized the amazing steel guitar talents of Lloyd Green (Nashville) and Jay Dee Maness (L.A.), both established session musicians. The freshness of their playing added not only an authenticity to the sessions, but opened the eyes of a whole new audience to the sound of the pedal steel guitar.

Now, 50 years later, the original steel guitarists have reunited to make a stunning instrumental tribute to this ground-breaking record. Over the intervening decades, the two masters have played on countless songs. Here are some of their favorites.

LLOYD GREEN

Warner Mack — “The Bridge Washed Out”

Owen Bradley, the producer, did not want to use me since he didn’t know me nor my capabilities. He insisted on Pete Drake, who Warner said could not possibly play this new idea and sound I had discovered. Owen reluctantly let me be on the session, and it became Warner Mack’s first and only number one record, for which Owen Bradley then took credit, telling people that he knew they had a hit with my sound on that record. It was my career-launching recording.

Tammy Wynette — “D-I-V-O-R-C-E”

Producer Billy Sherrill heard me doodling with a new sound I had discovered, recognized its uniqueness, and told me that was going to be the signature of the song. It was and quickly became a number one record for Tammy, where I introduced the last remaining missing component of the E9th commercial tuning heard on most records which had remained unknown — the E to F pedal change. It now is part of our tuning on all steel guitars which use the commercial E9th neck.

Freddie Hart — “Easy Loving”

George Richey had gotten in an argument with Freddie about how we should record this song and, wisely, went outside for a smoke and to cool off. So Charlie McCoy, Billy Sanford, and I said, “Let’s cut this damn thing,” which we did in two takes. Richey came back in and asked if we were ready to cut it, but I told him we already had. He listened with a bored look on his face and said, “Sounds okay, next song.” Little did he know we had just cut Freddie’s career song which sold around two million copies and became a number one, and also became one of only three records to ever become the Country Music Association’s Song of the Year two years in a row, in 1971 and 1972.

Gene Watson — “Farewell Party”

We had recorded Gene’s new Capitol album but lacked one more song to complete the music. Having but 10 minutes left in the session, both Gene and his producer, Russ Reeder, came over to me and asked if I would just do an intro and a solo in the middle real quickly so they could finish the album and not have to pay the musicians overtime. I did. We cut the song in one take and left for our next sessions. While not becoming a number one record for Gene, it quickly became his most famous recording and he even named his band Farewell Party. The song became a cult favorite among steel guitar players around the world.

Alan Jackson — “Remember When” 

Keith Stegall, Alan’s producer, called me when he heard I was coming out of a 15-year retirement to again record, asking me to cut with Alan Jackson. It was my first time back in the recording studio. On the session, Alan told me his favorite steel solo of all time was what I played on “Farewell Party.” He asked me to give him another “Farewell Party” solo. The song, of course, went to number one, like all of Alan’s records and, ironically, became the last major country music record with a significant 16-bar solo. Steel is no longer featured on most big recordings.

Leslie Tom — “Hey Good Lookin'”

“Hey, Good Lookin'” is a Hank Williams song I’ve played since the age of 13 or 14 in the bars and clubs in Mobile, Alabama. I can still play it exactly like Don Helms recorded it back on non-pedal steel guitar in 1951 with Hank. But … I only honored him with some key phrases on this modern Leslie Tom recording. My entire recording career has been built around creating sounds, not imitating others. Leslie’s version, while also honoring Hank, has a bit more swing and sizzle to it, so that’s the direction I went. It is really good, and I am honored to get to record with such a talented, beautiful lady. Leslie sings it with fervor and an obvious love for Hank Williams’ music.

JAY DEE MANESS

Gram Parsons — “Blue Eyes”

I got a call to work on an album called International Submarine Band with Gram Parsons. When I got to the studio, I found out that Glen Campbell would be playing acoustic rhythm guitar. This was my first encounter with both Gram and Glen. In addition to myself on steel, the album had Jon Corneal on drums, Joe Osborn on bass, and Earl Ball on piano. This album was produced by Suzi Jane Hokom. The album was eventually released in 1968, after the group ceased to exist. Some might say this was a precursor to the Sweetheart of the Rodeo album.

Ray Stevens — “Misty”

In 1974, I was lucky enough to record in Nashville on a song called “Misty” with Ray Stevens. Shortly after the session, I moved my family back to Los Angeles. One day, Ray called and said he had been nominated for a Grammy for “Misty,” and asked if I wanted to play on the Grammy Awards. Of course, I said yes. I was thrilled to get to play the Grammys on national TV with Ray Stevens. During rehearsal, all went well. Once it was our turn to be on stage — live — and it came time for my “solo,” I broke the third string on my steel guitar. This string is very important to the sound of the solo so, on national TV, and I had to “fake” it. This was a very embarrassing moment.

Eddie Rabbit — “Every Which Way but Loose”

In 1978, I received a call to do the soundtrack and had a bit part in the movie Every Which Way but Loose, which was produced by Clint Eastwood. All the bar scenes were being filmed at the Palomino Club, so Clint decided to use the house band in the movie. I had already received the call to do the soundtrack and to play with Eddie Rabbit on the title song and to play on Mel Tillis’s “Send Me Down to Tucson.” Soon enough, I was called to do the Any Which Way You Can soundtrack, too. In addition to the soundtrack, I was able to play with Shelly West and David Frizzell on “You’re the Reason God Made Oklahoma.” I also had the opportunity to work on “Bar Room Buddies,” sung by Clint Eastwood and Fats Domino.

Anne Murray — “Could I Have This Dance”

I had the privilege of working with Anne Murray on her hit song “Could I Have This Dance” which was produced by Jim Ed Norman. “Could I Have This Dance” was also in the Urban Cowboy movie and soundtrack. Later on, I got a call late one evening from Jim Ed Norman asking if I could come over to his studio after my gig at the world famous Palomino Club. He said, “I have a record for you.” I thought it was a copy of the album which had the tune on it. When I got to the studio, he presented me with a platinum record of “Could I Have This Dance” from the Let’s Keep It That Way album to hang on my wall. This was the first of many albums from various artists that I now have on my wall.

Eric Clapton — “Tears in Heaven”

When I got to the studio to record with Eric Clapton, I was told Eric was not feeling well and could I come back the next day. The next day, I came back and started recording. We took all day to record Eric’s song called “Tears in Heaven.” I was packing up my steel guitar, when Eric came out into the studio and said, “I would like you to play the solo.” That’s when I got scared. I played the solo (melody) on the steel and, after I left, Eric put the harmony part on top of my melody. “Tears in Heaven” became a number one hit for him. I feel very privileged to have played on it.

Photo credit: John Macy