Chicken Soup for the Soul: Country Music: The Inspirational Stories behind 101 of Your Favorite Country Songs

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Chicken Soup for the Soul: Country Music: The Inspirational Stories behind 101 of Your Favorite Country Songs Page 18

by Jack Canfield


  He shook his head, and as he shook his head

  I heard someone ask him please, please. . .

  Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles

  Mr. Bojangles, dance.

  Murder on Music Row

  Story by Larry Cordle

  Song written by Larry Cordle and Larry Shell

  Recorded by George Strait and Alan Jackson

  Larry Shell, one of my longtime friends and co-writers, called me up one day back in early 1999 and said he had an idea for a song. I had just come off the road and was in the middle of recording a new album, so I really wasn’t in the mood to write anything. He told me he had a title. It was “Murder on Music Row.” And no sooner did he get that out of his mouth than I said, “Oh, man, is it about killing country music?” And he started laughing and said yes. He knew that I got it right away.

  Since we were already on the same wavelength, I said, “Let’s get together sometime over the next few days and write this thing.” It only took us a few hours to finish it. I was making a bluegrass album at the time and I didn’t think it was a bluegrass song. I thought it was a traditional country song, so I had no intention of recording it. But I got out and played it a couple of places. I played it first at The Bluebird Café. I did a show there with Rebecca Lynn Howard and some other folks, and it got such a response. The Bluebird is a listening room. You usually get good responses there, but it was really over the top, even for The Bluebird. Then I played it at The Station Inn in Nashville one night, and it was the same way — just over the top.

  So the last night of the session, I told the guys, “Let’s record this.” It was about midnight. I said, “At the least, I still need a demo to pitch.” Well, that became the record. I took a disc and put a yellow crime scene tape around it and took it over to the disc jockey Carl P. Mayfield. He made a website and did this whole thing. For about a month, it was his whole show, his mantra. He told me the first day he played the song on his show, he played it eight times. And his show was only four hours long. It was just a CD with no label printed on it or anything. I think the song title was just handwritten. Apparently, the station manager, Herb Woolsey, heard Carl play it on the radio and then called George Strait and said, “I’ve got a song for you.”

  Renee White at MCA called my cell phone. I was in Louisville at the IBMA Convention when it was still being held up there, and she asked if we would hold the song. I said, “Sure, Renee, I wasn’t planning on playing it for anybody anyway. I was just planning on releasing it myself.” She said, “Well, George Strait is thinking about doing it and he’d like Alan Jackson to record it with him.” And I said, “Well, lord yes!”

  After we wrote it, we stood back and looked at it, and I knew that some people on Music Row might not like it. I can’t say we never got any negative reactions. But it won the CMA Song of the Year in 2001 and neither Larry nor I could even vote for it. We weren’t even CMA members at the time. We had no lobbying strength. The song won on its own merit. And it was not even released as a single. It was never promoted. It got up into the 30’s I think, on the charts, just from people playing it straight from the CD.

  George Jones cut it with Dierks Bentley a few years later. There are things about their version that I love, and there are things about my version that I love, too. Gene Wooten played Dobro on mine and that was the last real record that he played on before he died. But I guess Alan and George’s version will always be the definitive version. I mean how can you not love Alan Jackson and George Strait together on the same record?

  It may have been the first time something has won Song of the Year without ever being released as a single. I think the song came through us for a reason and it just needed to be written, so we wrote it.

  Murder on Music Row

  Nobody saw them running

  From 16th Avenue

  They never found the fingerprints

  Or the weapon that was used

  But someone killed country music

  Cut out its heart and soul

  They got away with murder

  Down on Music Row

  The almighty dollar

  And the lust for worldwide fame

  Slowly killed tradition

  And for that, someone should hang

  They all say “Not Guilty!”

  But the evidence will show

  That murder was committed

  Down on Music Row

  For the steel guitars no longer cry

  And the fiddles barely play

  But drums and rock ‘n’ roll guitars

  Are mixed up in your face

  Ol’ Hank wouldn’t stand a chance

  On today’s radio

  Since they committed murder

  Down on Music Row

  They thought no one would miss it

  Once it was dead and gone

  They thought no one would buy them ol’

  Drinkin’ and cheatin’ songs

  Well there ain’t no justice in it

  And the hard facts are cold

  Murder’s been committed

  Down on Music Row

  For the steel guitars no longer cry

  And you can’t hear fiddles play

  With drums and rock ‘n’ roll guitars

  Mixed right up in your face

  Why the Hag wouldn’t have a chance

  On today’s radio

  Since they’ve committed murder

  Down on Music Row

  Why they even tell the Possum

  To pack up and go back home

  There’s been an awful murder

  Down on Music Row

  My List

  Story by Rand Bishop

  Song written by Rand Bishop and Tim James

  Recorded by Toby Keith

  “My List” was the idea of my writing partner, Tim James. Tim and I had been collaborating for several years and were good friends. He came in one day and said, “You know I always make a list of things to do every day. Let’s write a song about that.” And I thought, “That’s good enough for me,” so I started picking on my guitar and the first line just fell out: “Under an old brass paperweight / is my list of things to do today.” We wrote it in one session basically. We changed one line the next day and then did the demo.

  This was in 1999, and both Tim and I had been dropped by our publishers. I started working for the Census Bureau. Tim was painting houses, so we got together on rare occasions when we had the time to write. We wrote this at my house, which was a rental on Natchez Trace Avenue, near Vanderbilt. It was a little Tudor and I had a studio in the attic.

  After we wrote it, Tim said, “So are you going to start changing your priorities now that we’ve written this song?” And I said, “Are you kidding? I’m trying to make it in show business. I don’t have time for that stuff!” Really, though, this was a message that I needed to hear myself, even as I was writing it. I didn’t think it was a particularly original or fresh idea. I thought it was a well-written and well-constructed song, but I didn’t know if the world really needed another song like that.

  When we finished it, it just sat around for about two years. No publishers really took note of it. The only artist that showed any interest was Dan Seals. He had recorded a couple of my other songs, but then he decided against it.

  Tim called me one day and said, “Did Dan Seals ever cut that song, ‘My List?’” I said he hadn’t and then asked him why. He said, “Because there’s a good chance that Toby Keith is going to cut it today.” Toby Keith had started his own publishing company and the first writer he signed was Tim.

  By then, I had basically retired from the music business. I was very grateful for the opportunities that I had. I had about 200 of my songs recorded. One was a Grammy nominee and one was a BMI award-winner. But I felt like I had put my family through so many ups and downs. So I started another business selling legal representation plans for small businesses and families. But Tim just kept knocking on doors. Thank God for him because Toby c
ut the song. It’s been the kind of gift that keeps on giving. It got released on three different CDs: once on the original album, then he did a greatest hits album, and later a boxed set.

  When the record came out, it was right after 9/11. It was the perfect time for people to hear a song like this, because Americans were really beginning to reevaluate their priorities. It’s an incredible experience having a big hit song, but it’s even more gratifying when it’s a song that has affected so many people’s lives in a positive way. One time I played it live and the audience applauded the song after the first chorus. They actually interrupted the song with their applause. It was the only time that had ever happened to me. It was like being on one of those TV shows where the audience is instructed with the neon signs that say, “Applause, Applause!”

  We got so many e-mails and letters from people whose lives had been affected by the song that Tim and I later decided to write a book based on it, and we got it published by McGraw-Hill. It’s called, My List: 24 Reflections on Life’s Priorities. The letters came from people who were having financial problems, or had lost jobs, or had family or health challenges, and they wrote us to tell us how that song helped them cope with those challenges and reminded them of their real priorities. In the book we expounded on every line in the song, with an essay or short story and then a prayer or affirmation. A lot of the other books like this are more like an extended greeting card, but this one was a little more substantial; it was kind of a self-help book.

  That success of this also got me really passionate about working outside the three-minute song genre. I wrote three screenplays and a stage play that was produced here in Nashville and I’ve written three more books since. And it was all because of the experience of writing the book based on “My List.”

  My List

  Under an old brass paperweight

  Is my list of things to do today

  Go to the bank and the hardware store

  Put a new lock on the cellar door

  I cross ’em off as I get ’em done

  but when the sun is set

  There’s still more than a few things left

  I haven’t got to yet

  Like go for a walk, say a little prayer

  Take a deep breath of mountain air

  Put on my glove and play some catch

  It’s time that I make time for that

  Wade the shore, cast a line

  Look up a long lost friend of mine

  Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss

  Start livin’, that’s the next thing on my list

  It wouldn’t change the course of fate

  If cuttin’ the grass just had to wait

  ’Cause I’ve got more important things

  Like pushin’ my kid on a backyard swing

  I won’t break my back for a million bucks

  I can’t take to my grave

  So why put off for tomorrow

  what I could get done today? Like. . .

  Go for a walk, say a little prayer

  Take a deep breath of mountain air

  Put on my glove and play some catch

  It’s time that I make time for that

  Wade the shore, cast a line

  Look up a long lost friend of mine

  Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss

  Start livin’, that’s the next thing on my list

  Raise a little hell, laugh ’til it hurts

  Put an extra five in the plate at church

  Call up my folks just to chat

  It’s time that I make time for that

  Stay up late, then oversleep

  Show her what she means to me

  Catch up on all the things I’ve always missed

  Just start livin’, that’s the next thing on my list

  Under an old brass paperweight

  Is my list of things to do today

  My Son

  Story by Jan Howard

  Song written by Jan Howard

  Recorded by Jan Howard

  “My Son” was written as a letter to my son Jimmy, who was in Vietnam. My middle son Carter, who I’ve always called Corky, was home on leave from Vietnam and he was going back. I had two sons in Vietnam at the same time. This was in 1968. I didn’t have a melody or anything. Corky said, “You need to put that to music. Jimmy would be proud.”

  So I just put a little melody to it and recited the rest. I sang it to Bill Anderson, who said, “You need to record that.” There was just one problem. I couldn’t sing it without crying. When I got in the studio, I told Owen Bradley I couldn’t get through it. He said, “If you can get one take, we’ll do it. Just one good take.” So I sang it one time and I couldn’t do it anymore.

  Then Owen said, “Now Jan, it’s just another song.” And I said, “No, it isn’t. That’s Jimmy’s life.” So that was it. That was the way it was done.

  I immediately sent Jimmy a little seven-and-a-half-inch reel-to-reel tape with the song on it. He wrote back and said that he had gotten the tape, but he hadn’t had a chance to listen to it yet. I didn’t tell him what it was. I just said, “I have a surprise for you.” He said in his letter that he was looking for someone who had a reel-to-reel recorder so he could play it. And that was the last I heard from him.

  A few weeks later, two people came to my house. They knocked on the door and I opened it. There were two officers standing there. It’s still hard for me to talk about. They said, “Ms. Howard, we regret to inform you...” and I just knew what had happened. But I had two sons there. So I said, “For God’s sake, tell me which one it was?” They said it was Jimmy.

  A few months later, I got a letter from someone in Jimmy’s troop who said that Jimmy had borrowed his tape recorder to play the song, and Jimmy was so moved that he cried. I understand that they played it every day in Vietnam, like the national anthem, for quite some time after that. That brought me some comfort, knowing that he had heard the song before he died. He was a wonderful, wonderful boy.

  I didn’t sing that song for a long, long time after that. The only time I did was when I had a special request from a parent who had lost someone.

  My youngest son, David, had a nervous breakdown after Jimmy was killed. He could never deal with it and he took his own life. My middle son brought Jimmy home and served out the rest of his military term in the States.

  It’s a wound that never heals. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I never watched anything about Vietnam. I never watched any of the movies. I don’t read the books. I don’t need to. I know all I need to know about Vietnam.

  My Son

  (Singing) My son, my son. I pray that you’ll come home to me

  My son, my son

  (recitation) It seems only yesterday

  the most important thing on your mind

  was whether you’d make the baseball team

  or get the new school jacket like all the other kids had

  And I remember how your eyes lighted up when you got your first

  rod and reel for that big fishing trip

  Just you and your dad

  And I remember wiping the tears away

  when you hurt yourself on your sled

  In those days it seems the house was always filled

  with laughter and joy, filled with your friends

  They were all such good boys

  And then came the day that you

  walked down the aisle, to receive that all-important diploma.

  I was so proud but I couldn’t

  believe that tall young man was my son

  My wonderful son.

  And then I remember the little girl

  that was always around kind of tagging after you

  She’s not so little anymore but she’s still around

  Who knows, maybe someday?

  Then you received the call

  that I guess we knew would come someday

  But it came so quick and now you’re so very far away

  In a
land that, until a short time ago, I didn’t even

  know was there.

  I know the time will pass

  You’ll be home again. But until that time, my darling, take

  care. Take special care

  (singing) My son my son I pray that

  you’ll come home to me. My son, my son.

  Not That Different

  Story by Karen Taylor-Good and Joie Scott

  Song written by Karen Taylor-Good and Joie Scott

  Recorded by Collin Raye

  JS: I was born and raised in Chicago and I was working in advertising with Leo Burnett. I was a city girl but I fell in love with country music. I had known Karen for a while. She used to sing a lot of jingles for our advertising agency. So we struck up a long-distance relationship writing songs together. I was writing for Paul Craft’s music publishing company then. There’s this school right outside Chicago called Keshet, and it’s for kids with special needs. Every year, they would do a fundraising event and I would be asked to write a piece of music for the event. I was sitting at my desk and I was thinking, “If I were a child with special needs, what would I want to say to the world? What would I want to convey?” The thought came to my mind, “I’m really not that different than you. I still have the same emotions. I laugh the same. I cry the same. I feel the same.” I thought that’s what an individual like that might want to say. So I started writing the chorus to the song. And it all came out in one piece. But then I got stuck on some of the verses, so I called Karen.

  KTG: I had met this wonderful woman up in Chicago and she was writing these tender, incredibly moving lyrics, and I was singing them, things like “Taco Salad, oooh what a treat. Made just for you and a boy can eat: Taco Bell.” Then we went on to a little bit more meaningful writing. One day, Joie called me and said, “Karen I have this idea for a song. I thought it was just going to be for this school project, but I think it might be something bigger.” She sang me the chorus that she had written. And I couldn’t believe it. I got goose bumps.

  JS: We had that long-distance writing relationship for a while. We wrote some of this song in Chicago and we wrote some of it over the phone. I actually ended up writing a different song for the Keshet school fundraiser. We both knew that we had something pretty special with “Not That Different.” It had a pretty universal theme. When we took it in the direction of a love song, it reminded me a little of my husband, Avi, and myself. He was a school principal in Chicago, and I was a big-city girl. And when it was suggested that we go out, I knew who he was, and I thought, “Oh, my gosh, we’re really way too different. This is never going to work.” But of course, it worked beautifully. So there are some elements that I drew from my personal life. There’s a line in the song that says, “She had always dreamed of loving someone more exotic, and he just didn’t seem to fit the part.” When he first heard that line, he said, “You’re not really going to keep that, are you?”

 

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