The Garth Factor

by Patsi Bale Cox

  “Jenny was talking to me about her idea,” Garth said. “I told her that it wasn’t me because it kind of stood outside the fire. We looked at each other and said, ‘Oh yeah.’ ”

  Tony Arata was pleased and a little surprised when “Kickin’ And Screamin’ ” made the album, since he thought the lyrics might be too weird for it to ever get cut. But comparing birth and death with a whoop and a holler didn’t phase Garth’s left-of-field sense of humor. Garth’s only problem was in the performance. The song requires tremendous vocal gymnastics and a high-energy kickin’ and screamin’ performance.

  The New Grass Revival reunited at Jack’s Tracks to help Garth record their classic “Callin’ Baton Rouge,” and despite some early concerns from New Grass purists, it worked. “Just being in the room with these guys was an inspiration,” Garth said. “New Grass Revival’s musicianship was overwhelming—Pat Flynn’s guitar, Béla Fleck’s banjo, John Cowan on the bass, and Sam Bush on mandolin. It doesn’t get any better than that.” The song remains one of Garth’s favorites to perform live.

  “The Night Will Only Know” (Stephanie Davis, Jenny Yates, Garth Brooks) is a dark tale of murder and a coverup. As Ty England learned years earlier, when writing with Garth Brooks, a story song must have a beginning, middle, and end. Layers must be exposed no matter how far down in the muck you have to get.

  Garth carried his love for gut-level reality through to the final cut on In Pieces, “The Cowboy Song,” written by Roy Robinson. “Bob Doyle found this song in the trash can at ASCAP,” Garth said. “He knew how much I loved western songs, so what better to bring me than ‘The Cowboy Song’?

  “When I was growing up I always wished I could have a horse. But it would have been way too expensive for our family. Then I went to Oklahoma State, which is an ag school. So I grew up around the cowboy and rodeo world, but was always a little on the outside. I think that’s why I built a riding arena out at my house, to make up for lost time.

  “I think I first heard ‘The Cowboy Song’ around 1987, and I’ve loved it ever since. I’d end up pulling out my guitar and singing it on the bus at one or two A.M.—when all the guys would be playing stuff they loved. But somehow it got lost in the shuffle when we started to record. Finally, we decided that the best way to make this song stand out was to do it acoustically. Roy Huskey was playing bass, Sam Bush was doing mandolin, Hajacos was on fiddle, Bouton was on Dobro, and Leuzinger and Casstevens on acoustic guitars. The sound was perfect for the song and it’s my favorite on this album.”

  In Pieces produced four videos, an astonishing break from Garth’s usual avoidance of the medium. “Ain’t Going Down (Til The Sun Comes Up)” was a concert video from the ’94 tour. Footage from the 1993 Texas Stadium shows was used for “Callin’ Baton Rouge.” To make the other two, Garth contacted director Jon Small.

  “Every so often, Garth would call and talk about video, and say, ‘We’ll work together one of these days,’ ” Small said. “Then on January 2, 1994, he asked me to come to California and talk about two songs in particular.” The videos were approached very differently, “The Red Strokes” as a concept piece and “Standing Outside The Fire” as a three-minute movie.

  “Standing Outside The Fire” reflects Garth’s belief that to live life fully you have to be willing to take the heat. With that thought in mind, he started putting together a video script for “Standing Outside The Fire,” reaching back to an idea he’d had earlier.

  “When I was thinking about a video for ‘The River,’ I wanted to tell a story of remarkable courage,” Garth said. “I’m glad we didn’t make that video, because the story line lent itself far better for ‘Standing Outside The Fire.’ Things happen for a reason.”

  The story Garth wanted to tell was of a young man with Down’s syndrome who decides to compete in the all-school track meet instead of the Special Olympics. “Competition can be the most positive thing in the world, especially if the person you are competing with is yourself. You’ll probably be brutally honest, because who knows you better than you do? You have to put yourself to the test, to try when it’s not a sure win.”

  When Garth talked to Jon Small about “The Red Strokes” video, he said that he wanted “a bunch of white pianos, a white tuxedo, and a lot of red paint.” Making “The Red Strokes” required eighteen white tuxedos, twelve white Stetsons, five thousand gallons of mud, thirty-five gallons of red paint, and six days of filming. “We’d do a shot, hit the showers, go out and do a shot, and then hit the showers again,” Garth said. “I was digging paint out of my ears and eyes for days after we wrapped up the shoot.”

  DECISIONS REGARDING ALBUMS SHIPPED and promoted were strictly up to the label. Joe Mansfield was now onboard as an independent marketing consultant, but while he had influence he had no real power. In Pieces shipped fewer than expected because Bowen decided it would sell around 4 million, half of what it ultimately sold.

  Garth understood that this thinking could become a self-fulfilling prophecy if it became a pattern. If the label determined that Garth had a core audience, and could sell a certain number of albums with little effort or expenditure, marketing would continue to be taken for granted.

  The used-CD controversy of 1993 became another minefield. The dispute garnered a raft of press—most of it bad—for record labels, and a great deal of discussion in music centers like Nashville. After talking with publishers and songwriters, Garth jumped into the fray and said he stood on the side of the labels. What he feared happening was this: Whereas most used-CD sales had been in mom and pop stores, if big retailers jumped on the bandwagon, it would drastically cut into songwriter profits. There were reportedly some retailers who even considered putting used-CD bins next to artists’ recently released product. No writer or publisher royalties would be paid on those, and it would encourage people to trade in their new albums.

  “It wouldn’t hurt me as much as it would the writers,” Garth said. “And I know too many of them who are trying to raise families on royalties.” Privately, most artists agreed with Garth, that writers would be damaged if the practice was mishandled. But few ever spoke out on his behalf.

  Several years later, Gary Graff asked Garth if he regretted speaking out: “If the issue came out today I’d still take the same stand. My biggest problem was the sitting [used CDs] side by side with new ones.”

  He also said that before he understood the reality of the problem, he’d bought used albums himself. “I used to do it when we had records. But that was before I got into the business. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why people buy them. They’re half or a third of the price. But now I know how songwriters make their living.”

  Bowen became increasingly critical of Garth’s recordings in the months after In Pieces was released. Meetings might begin with a discussion of overall budgetary concerns, but more often than not, they ended with Bowen deflecting questions about marketing by citing the music. Among other criticisms, Bowen said songs like “Ain’t Going Down (Til The Sun Comes Up)” didn’t sell records. Yet audiences and critics alike loved it. USA Today called the song one of Garth’s finest performances ever. “Ain’t Going Down (Til The Sun Comes Up)” was the debut single from InPieces, making Radio & Records history by entering the country singles charts at number 25, with 222 stations adding the song out-of-the-box on its way to number 1.

  These kinds of disagreements also underscore the differences Garth and Bowen had when it came to sales. Although Garth was often perceived as sales-obsessed; in fact, he paid no attention to sales potential while he recorded. For Garth, two things mattered: how the song affected him personally and the reaction from his concert audiences. Like Allen Reynolds, he saw a vast difference between what happened in the studio and what happened with the record label. While recording, the music ruled. Once it was finished and turned in, it was up to the label to get it to the public. But since his key man, Joe Mansfield, was an outside consultant with little real power, Garth was now in the position that he had to
pay attention to how business was being conducted.

  Garth has often said that his albums are like children to him, living entities. He is unable to go into the studio and cut ten tunes for release, then walk away hoping for the best. For him, that’s like not giving an offspring a fair chance to succeed. “I don’t understand this idea of just throw it against the wall and see if it sticks,” Garth confided. “If you believe your music deserves to be heard, you ought to be willing to fight for it.”

  In Pieces entered Billboard’s country and Top 200 charts at number 1, and Garth had six songs on the trade publication’s Singles and Tracks chart. It was a first for the chart. The only time an artist had previously accomplished the feat was in 1948 when Eddy Arnold and the Tennessee Plowboys placed six on the Best Selling Retail Folk Records chart.

  Despite Bowen’s concerns, critics praised In Pieces. The Chicago Sun-Times called it “the most expressive of his career.” The Orange County Register declared it “a focused, well-paced, energetic album that incorporates all the best elements that influence and constitute country music.”

  In Pieces was the third album in history to debut at number 1 on both the Billboard 200 album chart and the Billboard country albums chart. The Recording Industry Association of America ultimately certified album sales in excess of 8 million units. In Pieces was an international hit as well. It went quadruple platinum in Ireland, platinum in Australia, triple platinum in Canada, and gold in New Zealand and the U.K.

  Garth and Reynolds still loved the fat, organic sound that resulted from recording on analog before transferring to digital. But in meetings with his staff, Bowen still tried to undercut the producer. He often repeated his original criticism of Reynolds’s production as “too old fashioned.” And during one encounter with Garth, Bowen said, “Just go fix the damned music.”

  By this time differences with Bowen had gotten to the point that it was uncertain just how much attention was going to be paid to new music, and Garth was hesitant to start another album. He turned to some special releases while he tried to figure out what position he was actually in with the label, and how to fix it.

  The Garth Brooks Collection was released on September 2, 1994. This album was not sold in record stores, nor did the 50 million in sales certified by the RIAA on Garth’s studio albums reflect this project’s 4 million sold. This was an album compiled for McDonald’s first music promotion, benefiting Ronald McDonald’s Children’s Charities (RMCC). The album sold for a limited time in McDonald’s restaurants, and RMCC received one dollar from each sale. The album contained tracks from Garth’s previous albums. Tina Turner, Elton John, and Roxette also participated in the program.

  Garth had the power to make The Garth Brooks Collection, but Bowen had the power to set the price. Angered at the extra dollar taken from Capitol’s coffers, he jacked up the price by a buck. Because the release was for charity, raising the price angered Garth.

  Another package, The Hits, was released in December 1994. It was an eighteen-cut album of Garth Brooks’s hits, available for a limited time only. The masters were then buried in front of the Capitol building in Los Angeles, underneath Garth’s star.

  The album sold 10 million copies, making it the biggest-selling greatest-hits package in country music history and the best-selling greatest-hits package in any genre for the 1990s (domestic). The Hits was accompanied by a promotional CD Zoom, which allowed listeners to hear thirty seconds of every cut on all Garth’s albums. The CD Zoom was hosted by Garth and included free in the package. The Hits peaked at number 1 on both the Billboard Top 200 chart and the Billboard country albums chart.

  Garth backed the release with a new NBC Special. Garth Brooks—The Hits aired live in January 1995, with Garth taking phone calls from fans while showing clips from This Is Garth Brooks, This Is Garth Brooks, Too! and footage from the 1993–1994 World Tour. Garth Brooks—The Hits won its time slot for NBC and gave the network its best adult rating in that time slot since January 1994.

  Despite the success of The Hits, Garth remained uncertain about the wisdom of these types of packages. First, he remained convinced that each album was an entity unto itself, and, like Joe Mansfield, he believed that hits packages might deter fans from buying catalog albums. That, of course, had been the reason for the CD Zoom highlighting every song from the albums included in The Hits.

  One could (but probably shouldn’t) say that The Hits package hit stratospheric heights. In November of the following year, Colonel Bill MacArthur, chief of the Astronaut Office Flight Support Branch, took his copy of The Hits with him when he visited the orbiting Russian Mir space station as a space shuttle mission specialist, meaning the disc traveled 3.4 million miles. The mission commander stamped the CD, as did the pilot and third cosmonaut of the Russian crew on Mir, and Garth was presented with the collection at a show in Houston.

  Still unsure of label commitment, Garth did not release a studio album in 1994. The thrill of the 1993–1994 World Tour was offset by worries about future recording as well as management concerns. In ’94 Pam Lewis and Bob Doyle decided to part company and disbanded their firm. Garth briefly considered finding an existing firm to manage his career, but quickly abandoned the idea and formed Garth Brooks Management, bringing along several staffers from Doyle/Lewis, including media specialists Scott Stem and Karen Byrd.

  After the backbreaking ’93–’94 tour schedule, the label difficulties, and management reorganization, Garth decided to take 1995 off, keeping the band and crew on salary and medical benefits. And since he was no longer required to release an album every year, he decided to continue to hold off recording. It was really the one card he had to play, because despite his status at Capitol, he could not control the level of label support. If the albums were going to be undermarketed, why release one?

  Meanwhile, Capitol’s parent company, EMI, had been undergoing change. Joe Smith had left EMI in 1993, replaced by Charles Koppelman, a publishing mogul who had sold his empire to EMI in 1989. Koppelman’s heart was always with songs and publishing. When he accepted his new position, Koppelman told Chuck Philips from the L.A. Times, “No matter what anybody says, all that matters to me is the music. What people forget is our business starts with the music. If you have the belief in your gut about a song and an artist, you have to have the nerve to stand behind the thing, to stay the course.”

  Bowen respected Koppelman’s love of music, but remained skeptical of his relationship with Jim Fifield: “[Fifield] was fascinated by Koppelman’s elegance, wealth, the way he schmoozed artists and flew in private jets.” Plus, Bowen said he believed all New Yorkers—and that would include Koppelman—looked at country music and thought, “Yee-haw.”

  Koppelman was a bit of a grandstander and more than a little egoistic about his considerable publishing successes. “You know what my image is? Hits,” he told Musician magazine. On one trip to Nashville, Koppelman was accompanied by his two bosses, Sir Colin Southgate and Jim Fifield. Prior to the trip, Koppelman’s representative phoned Capitol to make sure that he had secured the most luxurious of the three suites booked at Loews Vanderbilt Plaza.

  Bowen had yet to find another star who could begin to compete with those signed by label heads such as MCA’s Tony Brown or Arista’s Tim DuBois. Capitol had two potentially important projects in the works when things finally came to a head in late 1994. One was by a new female vocalist named Deana Carter, the daughter of top guitarist Fred Carter. Deana, an edgy songwriter, had a whispery vocal style that belied her strong persona and wry sense of humor. Her debut album, Did I Shave My Legs for This, had been finished for months and released in the U.K. and Australia, but not in the United States.

  Another artist in limbo was a Portland, Oregon, native named John Bunzow, a singer/songwriter and guitarist whose work drew considerable interest around Nashville in the early ’90s. After a few Nashville trips, interest was high enough that Bunzow was asked to do a showcase in his native Portland. Two label reps were after him, MCA’s
Tony Brown and Capitol’s Renee Bell. In what turned out to be one of the worst bits of luck in music history, Tony Brown’s flight was delayed, and Renee clinched the deal for Capitol.

  The John Bunzow saga is one every fledgling artist should consider, because similar tales are told in every form of music. It illustrates what Garth Brooks had learned early in his career: getting a recording contract means very little. No matter how much the critics and the audiences love them, artists are at the mercy of the whims of labels, executives, timing, and trends. And in the end, they discover that the music they’ve made isn’t even theirs.

  Bunzow was given a big budget to record in Los Angeles with guitar guru Pete Anderson producing. Capitol determined that the album belonged in a relatively new radio category, Americana. It has been called a merger between roots rock and country, citing in hindsight Creedence Clearwater Revival as the first Americana act with its debut in 1968. But in recent times, this subgenre had grown out of artistic frustration over country airplay opportunities.

  When the advance CD of Stories of the Years was sent to press and radio, the response was nothing less than astounding, a press agent’s dream. The Chicago Tribune’s Jack Hurst: “John Bunzow mixes the rootsy with the revolutionary. It’s an energetic collection of individualistic lyrics and delicious melodic surprises that is often reflective of Buddy Holly, Ricky Nelson or Jim Croce.” GoodTimes listed the album as a must buy for college students.

  Bowen resigned before it was released, and all the encouraging news would turn sour.

  In late 1994, Jimmy Bowen reported that he had been diagnosed with thyroid cancer. After undergoing successful surgery at the Mayo Clinic, he reevaluated his life and career, then decided to go for one more negotiation: a severance package. Bowen resigned effective March 31, 1995.

  To the end, Garth continued to give Bowen credit when he spoke publicly. Not long before Bowen left, Garth talked to journalist Gary Graff about the juggling of family, big tours, and making music: “I have lots of people around me, Jimmy Bowen and Allen Reynolds included, who tell me, ‘Don’t try to outdo yourself to the point where you explode.’ ”