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Positive Feedback ISSUE 54
march/april
2011
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Willie Nelson, Red Headed Stranger,
Impex 180-gram LP
by Dan Meinwald

Forget
Stardust. It was a bold move for a country
artist to record a set of Great American Songbook
standards—especially a singer with such a
non-standard voice—yet, as we all know, the
experiment succeeded, and the record sold very well.
It was also well recorded, and has been audiophile
fare since its release in 1978. Nevertheless, it
remains an anomaly in the Willie Nelson catalog, and
I know I am not alone in finding it very much
hit-or-miss.
Not so
Red Headed Stranger, released three years
before Stardust. Red Headed Stranger
may or may not be the quintessential Willie Nelson
record, but it is without question the record that
defined his style, and it is the record that put him
on the map.
Willie
Nelson had been on the borders of the map for quite
some time before he made Red Headed Stranger,
known as a songwriter and musician before becoming
known as a singer. His early hits were written for
other people, notably "Night Life" for Ray Price and
"Crazy" for Patsy Cline, and these songs still pay
residuals a half a century after they were written.
Writing
hit songs impressed the Nashville producers, and by
the early 1960s, Nelson was singing on his own
records. On his 60s LPs, most of them recorded for
RCA and produced by Chet Atkins, the Willie Nelson
we've come to know is recognizable, but the
Nashville arrangements of these records, with their
crooning backup singers, tinkling pianos, and other
excrescences, did not suit his nasal voice and
quirky phrasing. The records sold, but not
particularly well, and by the early 1970s, Nelson
had left Nashville, moved back to Texas, and retired
from the record business.
His
retirement didn't last long. By 1973 he had signed
with Atlantic Records and produced two albums,
Shotgun Willie and Phases And Stages,
that represented a departure both for Willie Nelson
and for country music. The sound of these records
was more honky-tonk than countrypolitan. The kitschy
pop trimmings were gone. Solo violins replaced
entire string sections. Nelson's acoustic guitar was
now given nearly as much prominence as his voice.
The songs also addressed the audience in a much more
direct fashion, and were more openly emotional.
Phases And Stages
should have been the breakthrough record, but even
though it wasn't a hit, it remains one of the most
original country albums ever made. There had been a
few records that collected songs around a theme
(including the fantastic Night Life album
that Ray Price built around Willie Nelson's song),
but Phases And Stages was a full-blown
concept album, tightly constructed to tell the story
of a dissolving marriage, first from the perspective
of the wife, then from the perspective of the
husband.
The
record opens with a brief statement of the "Phases
And Stages" theme, which reappears throughout the
album as a transitional device. In the first scene,
we observe the disgruntled wife doing housework,
then follow the progress of her decision to leave
her husband, as she returns to her mother's house,
goes to a honky-tonk to forget her troubles, and
wonders how she will know if she falls in love
again. On side two, we find the husband literally
taking off from the scene (in an airplane), ordering
a drink despite it being first thing in the morning,
and recalling the day he came home to find his wife
had left him. The rest of his journey is more
emotional than physical, as he moves through
disbelief, sorrow, confusion, and finally
resignation.
Red
Headed Stranger
was Nelson's first album for Columbia after moving
on from Atlantic. Though it is also a concept album,
it is much more loosely structured than Phases
And Stages. Part of the reason for this is
that—unlike the previous record, which he wrote in
its entirety—many of the songs on the album are not
Willie Nelson's. This is not a shortcoming, but is
in fact one of the record's most interesting
features. The narrative framework is created by
Nelson's compositions, several of which appear and
reappear in fragmentary form, interspersed with
songs by other writers, which, because they address
the classic themes of country music—love, deceit,
loss, loneliness—carry the story forward, though
only by implication.
The
story begins with "Time Of The Preacher," a Nelson
tune about a man who, in "the year of '01," is
abandoned by his wife for one of her previous
lovers, and whose anguish is so great that he loses
his mind. When the song ends (or seems to), it is
followed by the Eddy Arnold/Wally Fowler tune "I
Couldn't Believe It Was True," which sustains the
theme. "Time Of The Preacher" is then reprised with
an extra verse, which tells us that "the killing has
begun." In the next song, also Nelson's, the man
discovers his wife and her lover in a tavern and
kills them.
The "Red
Headed Stranger" theme then appears for the first
time, but is interrupted by the song that became
Willie Nelson's first number-one hit on the country
charts—Fred Roses' "Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain,"
first recorded in 1945 by Roy Acuff in a version
that falls far short of Willie's in the depth of its
pathos. When the "Stranger" theme then reappears,
Nelson adds details to the story. We hear of the red
headed stranger's arrival in an unspecified
location, riding a black stallion and towing the bay
horse that had belonged to his wife. When an unnamed
yellow-haired lady "casts eyes on the bay" and dares
to touch it, the stranger abruptly shoots and kills
her. In the Wild West, which still existed in parts
of this country in "the year of '01," he is found
innocent of any crime, since the woman was clearly
trying to steal his horse. As the stranger rides on,
the "Time Of The Preacher" theme is briefly
reprised, and the first side of the record ends with
an instrumental passage composed by Nelson.
On the
second side of the record, the narrative is all but
dropped. The recurring musical themes fail to
appear, and the stranger is not even mentioned.
Nevertheless, the narrative of the first half of the
album is a constant presence in the background of
the second, and it colors the events and themes that
appear in each of the songs. The first—the only one
written by Nelson aside from the closing
instrumental—is very brief, yet contains a strong
suggestion that it is furthering the narrative. An
unidentified man meets an unidentified woman at a
tavern, and they smile and begin to dance. Dance
music follows, then a beautiful version of Hank
Cochran's "Can I Sleep In Your Arms?" The
implication is that the man is the red headed
stranger, and that he has found at least some
comfort in the company of this woman, yet this is
far from clearly stated.
As the
album draws to a close, Nelson sings "Remember Me,"
an obscure tune by Scotty Wiseman (author of the
much less obscure "Have I Told You Lately That I
Love You?"), a song addressed to one former lover by
another. It is not clear who is being addressed and
who is doing the addressing, though again the
implication is that the red headed stranger is the
narrator, and that any comfort he found was merely
temporary. Still, in the next song, Bill Callery's "Hands On The Wheel," the narrator claims to have
found himself in the eyes of his lover—suggesting,
at last, that the possibility is always there.
Another
extraordinary thing about Red Headed Stranger
is the way it was recorded. The arrangements are
extremely spare, almost stark. Much of the time, we
hear only Willie Nelson's voice and his guitar.
Other instruments—piano, accordion, banjo,
harmonica, tambourine, a second guitar—appear from
time to time, though rarely for more than a few
moments. Occasionally a minimal rhythm section (bass
and drums) kicks in. The musical framework of the
album is so minimal that apparently the Columbia
record executives nearly rejected it because they
thought it was a demo recording. It's hard to blame
the record execs, as they were hearing what had to
be the most un-"produced" country record ever made.
By
stripping away the gingerbread that usually adorned
country records, Willie Nelson had created something
almost stunning in its intimacy. The indirect nature
of the album's storytelling is counterbalanced by
the directness of the recording, which puts Willie
Nelson and his guitar directly in front of you and
the other instruments just a short distance behind.
There was much a stake for Willie Nelson at this
stage of his career. He took a considerable risk in
making this record, in terms of both its formal and
sonic presentation, and it paid off.
While
the original LP sounds very good, it is pressed on
typically flimsy 70s vinyl, and sounds a little bit
thin, especially when compared to the Impex
pressing, which fleshes out the sound of the
recording very nicely. It also has better
resolution—the sound of Willie's voice bouncing off
the walls of the studio is more clearly heard, as
are the little details of his guitar playing, among
other niceties. The you-are-thereness of the album
(or the he-is-hereness, depending upon how you look
at it), is therefore increased, but a more important
difference is that the emotional content of the
record has been taken up a notch or two. Keep a
hankie handy for "Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain."
If you
have even the slightest interest in country music,
this is essential. Even if you hate country music
(at least in the form of the egregious garbage the
genre has become), give it a try.
Dan
Meinwald is the importer for E.A.R., Marten,
Townshend, and Jorma Design
