Room for both EmmyLou and Allison
I had an aunt, Mildred Witten, who was an old maid schoolteacher when she married my Uncle Jack. They started too late to have children of their own, but as a first-grade teacher she had a look that could freeze any actions of mine or cousins Sid and Travis Witten even when we were in high school. I confess I would still be a little afraid of Aunt Mildred’s look if she were with us today.
When I was in college, I would sometimes stay with them as their farm in Gustine, Tx was almost exactly halfway from my Houston home and Texas Tech in Lubbock. One time there was a snow and ice storm ahead of me and Mildred made home grown sausage and homemade biscuits for breakfast and loaded me up with more for the trip. Uncle Jack must have been out doing chores as it was just the two of us at the long table that could seat 20 for holidays. That’s when Mildred made her confession during a discussion on country music.
“I love your Uncle Jack, but if Earnest Tubb ever wanted me I’d be gone!”
This was an amazing statement for me as you couldn’t say Jack with adding Mildred in the same breath and vice versa. I filed this knowledge away and 10 or so years later, after moving to Nashville, I met a guy who managed Justin Tubb, ET’s son. He got me an autographed picture from ET that I took to Mildred on my next raid through my Texas roots.
I never got “The Look” again and I think I was her favorite nephew for the rest of her days, but don’t tell Travis or Sidney. Travis is gone too soon, but Sidney likely is still in the dark about Mildred’s affections.
If you’re a male of a certain age and love folk and country music then EmmyLou Harris is likely your Earnest Tubb. The voice that angels use when they sing country music. When Jan adopted a 39-year-old bachelor by marriage over a quarter century ago, she knew going in about my love for EmmyLou. Jan wasn’t fazed much, she knew EmmyLou was not likely to take on a man with so few refinements and so many rough edges. Her eyes were opened wide when she examined my closet for the first time and found duplicated ties and three pairs of the same Nocona black boots. I tended to go with what I knew.
I guess I should mention now as I do anytime anyone praises my wardrobe that my wife dresses me. I’m her Ken Doll.
I’ve stayed true blue to EmmyLou through all these Nashville years despite musical flings with Rosanne Cash, Matraca Berg, Lucinda Williams, Nancy Griffith, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Eileen Jewell, Gillian Welch and Patty Griffin.
But now, EmmyLou has to move over to make room for Allison Moorer.
In this year of the Pandemic, a lot of things have been turned upside down. Two things greatly affected in my life have been live music and in person church services. Into this void stepped Allison Moorer.
I have been aware of Allison since the early aughts when I bought a CD called Down to Believing. I knew Allison was Shelby Lynn’s sister and I actually liked her voice more. I played the CD a lot and then transitioned it to my iPhone when that technology came into being. Allison was a frequent flyer in my ear, but we weren’t really close.
Allison has changed all that with her “Soul Soothing Sunday Songs” and “Songs from the Library”, virtual performances which she instituted when Covid-19 took her off the performing road. There were other artists I checked out their virtual shows like Lera Lynn, Sara Evans and even Tori Kelly. But nobody struck a better chord than Allison’s Soothings on Sunday, though I usually ended up listening to them on Monday’s as backdrop to my work routine.
Allison’s guitar/vocal renditions of some of the best gospel songs took some of the sting out of missing the church choir that was so much a part of my wife’s life for the last 20 years. The choir and Jan’s “Hallmark Quartet” with their Barbershop performances at Wilson County nursing home were silenced by the fear of projectile drops created by singing.
I’ve transitioned this year to Instagram as well as Facebook and started following Allison there and we grew much closer. There I’ve gotten a look at who she is as an artist and a person. She shares “The Daily Willie”, which are photos of her dog that are funny and well done and welcome to someone who doesn’t have one for the first time in about 30 years. She also shares her artwork and recommendations on everything from restaurants to authors to check out. I guess she’s an influencer on some level, but it comes across as sincerely sharing something she loves rather than a paid gig.
I’ve discovered she is much more than just a singer. I bought on Audible her book “Blood” that was published this year.. Jan and I both loved her search to make meaning and sense of a horrible event that took both her parents needlessly when she and Shelby were teenagers. The book is as good an example of southern gothic as anything Carson McCullers or Flannery O’Conner ever produced. And the story has the added weight of being sadly true.
The writing in “Blood” also motivated me to get the album by the same name on Apple Music and look closer at Allison’s songwriting. I had always been so enamored with the sound of her voice I’d never stopped to really let the words sink in. I spent a period doing just that and was rewarded with the glimpse into her reality through the words of “Alabama Song”, “Thunderstorm, Hurricane”, “Send Down An Angel” and of course, the song version of “Blood”. Her compositions revealed a writer of depth to go alongside any of my male heroes like Kris Kristofferson, Willie Nelson, Guy Clark, Mickey Newbury, Townes Van Zandt or Billy Joe Shaver. I would put her closest to Newbury for feel and texture in taking ordinary life and weaving it into a tapestry of song.
Allison transitioned beyond all the other female singers I’ve enjoyed over the years to a perch in my heart alongside EmmyLou Harris in a most unexpected way. She posted a rant about her husband Hayes Carll not properly disposing of some of Willie’s natural output. The result was Allison stepping on the improperly handled bag and hence… the uncharacteristic rancor of a redhead in full fury, though with an ironic undertone. As a husband who often ends up in the crosshairs, I immediately felt solidarity with Hayes and vowed to check his music out. Allison’s indignation made me laugh out loud and see her as a neighbor I just didn’t see much of these days, sort of like my real neighbors in Lebanon, TN during 2020.
I had never listened to Hayes as I’d mistakenly lumped him in with the hat acts that dominate country radio these days. All hat and no cattle. I gave him a listen and he had me onboard when he gave me the image of Jesus and Elvis captured on Velvet in a chorus. Hayes also has his own online concerts and he scored more points singing a Shake Russell song. Shake ruled Houston singer-songwriters in the late 70s and played guitar left handed and upside down. I always had a great time deciphering what chord he was playing and was always amazed at how exotic a flipped D Chord could appear.
I was puzzled because Apple Music lists Allison’s “Down to Believing” album as 2015 in origin. I knew I had been a fan longer and hunted up the CD and confirmed it had originated around the turn of the Millenium and I’d bought it around 2005. In tracking it down in my bookcase I also discovered the CD came with a DVD of Allison singing live, something I hadn’t seen in 2005. I plugged it into my quaint Blue Ray player and enjoyed the young Allison Moorer. Young Allison was red haired with a pretty, though somewhat rounder face. THAT voice was the same, but she looked less accessible and was maybe feigning toughness to get past the teen horror that had not been shared at that time except if you looked close within lyrics.
I think the key to her ascendence with me is Allison brings the intimacy of the girl next door in her social media posts. She comes across as real, someone who might offer you a glass of wine or a beer as a generous hostess along with the great music. Today’s Allison is blonde like my wife, a tawny shade that chases the encroaching gray away. She seems to have a better hairdresser as she is coiffed smartly enough to pass as an elegant Franklin society lady, though one with artsy leanings. However, it is the wry, self deprecating smile and openness that invites one in, something I will miss when the pandemic is tamed and she heads back out on the road and the virtual concerts end.
Just before Halloween Allison dipped her toe back into the live performing waters at The City Winery. Jan and I got tickets for ourselves and Sandy and Rob Beaty, friends who are also fans. We were excited to see her live but didn’t know how this was going to work as the show was listed “on the patio” and I didn’t remember City Winery having one.
It turned out the patio was a big tent over the parking lot with socially distanced temporary tables. The setup was safe for the virus but the tent was not a perfect protector against the whistling wind that howled through downtown Nashville, accompanied by dustings of rain.We had a table in the second row and a perfect view of Allison except when the guy at the first table sat up to his full height.Due to the temperature, I correctly deduced Allison wouldn’t wear the little black dress with the bare shoulder. That was okay as I didn’t wear mine either as our whole table was properly bundled up. Only our feet paid an extra price at the door.
Live at City Winery
Allison seemed taller in a black jumper with 60’s tribute flared legs, a darker black leather jacket and a floppy grey felt hat. She was accompanied only by Kenny Greenberg, one of the top performing guitar players in Nashville for the 30+ years I’ve lived here and a good friend of hers. She worked gamely through nearly her entire catalog with THAT voice supported ably by the temporary sound system at City Winery. City Winery is a great place to see a live show and went to some lengths to make the patio a good venue.
We were hoping for a Hayes Carll siting and would have loved for him to sing “That’s The Way Love Goes” with Allison as that’s one of my favorite duets they’ve done on each other’s Zoom concert. A close second for me would have been “Jesus and Elvis”. But, Hayes must have had other commitments and Allison put on a great show with just Kenny.
When it was over after a couple of encores, Allison exited up the ramp and out of our evening. I wished we could have gone up and thanked her for not only the concert but the positive energy she has brought to this time of sickness, sorrow, fear and frustration. But, when you live in Nashville, you may see country stars at the pizza place like I did George Jones once or discover you share a chiropractor with Conway Twitty. You learn to keep your distance and let them live as normally as possible in their hometown. If you get a chance to speak to them, just thank them for all they do to entertain you.
I intended to write this thank you to Allison the week after her performance, but I ended up writing tributes to Jerry Jeff Walker and Billy Joe Shaver, who both passed that week. Seems the last three blog entries before this one have all been requiems for fallen heavyweights in my life. Those two back to back drained my word well and I waited for replenishment while collecting my thoughts about my new co-favorite female singer.
Before I met my wife, I used to say the secret to staying a bachelor was I only fell in love with waitresses and girl singers and neither one of them could ever dance with you. Of course, the girl singer I married turned out to be from a Barbershop genre I knew nothing about, but she was willing to dance with me. We have now danced through 28+ years and my wardrobe and life itsownself reflects a good decision.
Almost 50 years later I now see what Aunt Mildred meant, though maybe through eyes that see a different projected outcome. I love my wife, but if Allison Moorer ever beckoned ... I’d suggest she grab ole Hayes and come on over for a long visit to our house. Let us pay back some of the hospitality they have shown in this year of living historically dangerously. And bring Daily Willie, too.
