Google “Gary Harrison songwriter” and you won’t find a website or MySpace. There’s not even a Wikipedia article. Don’t know where he’s from, how he got into songwriting or what he likes to eat for dinner.

As far as I know, he has never made an album. When he co-writes a song, does he write the music or the lyrics or a little of both? Don’t know. He’s a Grammy nominated songwriter as co-writer of “Strawberry Wine”, the 1997 CMA Song of the Year, and has penned many BMI Award-Winning Songs. It appears that his first big hit was “Lying in Love with You”, written with Dean Dillon for Jim Ed Brown and Helen Cornelius. The duet went to #2 in 1979.

Since there is so little data to draw from, a chronological treatment of his illustrious career would be difficult. I’ve decided instead to begin with the collaboration Gary is best known for, his work with Matraca Berg, and then continue with his other significant songwriting collaborations.

In his excellent Favorite Songs by Favorite Songwriters article on Matraca Berg, Kevin gave us his favorite 25 songs written by Berg. Gary Harrison has frequently collaborated with Matraca. On Kevin’s list the following 9 songs are written by Berg/Harrison:

• #25 Wild Angels – Martina McBride
• #22 Give Me Some Wheels – Suzy Bogguss
• #20 Demolition Angel – Pam Tillis
• #19 Everybody Knows – Trisha Yearwood
• #10 Strawberry Wine – Deana Carter
• #7 Wrong Side of Memphis – Trisha Yearwood
• #5 Diamonds and Tears – Suzy Bogguss
• #4 Dreaming Fields – Trisha Yearwood
• #3 My Heart Will Never Break This Way Again – Patty Loveless

Give a read to Kevin’s write-up for all 25. Kevin asked for comments from his readers on their favorite Matraca Berg songs. In the 29 comments received, three more collaborations with Gary were mentioned that didn’t make Kevin’s cut, including “Hey Cinderella” and “Eat at Joe’s” by Suzy Bogguss and Pinmonkey’s “That Train Don’t Run”.

“Hey Cinderella” is from Suzy’s 1993 CD, Something Up My Sleeve. Fantasy turns into “dreams that lost their way” by the end of the first long verse. In the second verse, reality sets in. In “Eat at Joe’s”, from her 1992 CD, Voices in the Wind, Suzy’s sounds like a sultry waitress in an all night diner – “here’s a hot top on your coffee, honey you’re a mess, I ain’t your wife I ain’t your momma, but I’ll do I guess”. The bridge is a wistful but not really hopeful call out to prince charming.

My favorite Pinmonkey song is still “Barbed Wire and Roses”, but “That Train Don’t Run”, from their 2006 Big Shiny Cars CD, isn’t far behind. It’s up-tempo like Barbed Wire. It was also a single for Matraca Berg from her 1997 “Sunday Morning to Saturday Night” cd. The singer recalls a former lover who may have been a bit on the wild side. It must be “your memory rattlin’ the shutters, that train don’t run by here no more”. The next line is “I lie and listen to the last boxcar, sweet dreams baby wherever you are”. Love that last phrase. Sounds like something Bogie might have said.

A bit of trivia: I wonder how many times that last phrase, “sweet dreams baby, wherever you are”, has been used in a song. In addition to the Pinmonkey song, I found it in “Goodnight”, written by Charlie Black and Dana Hunt, from Suzy Bogguss’ self-titled 1999 CD. The last line of the chorus is “I’m signing off, sweet dreams baby, wherever you are”. A song by Jedd Hughes, “Time to Say Goodnight” has “sweet dreams baby, sweet dreams baby wherever you are tonight”. It was written by Hughes, Tommy Lee James and Terry McBride and can be found on Hughes’ 2004 CD, Transcontinental. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else finds another instance.

I found another Berg/Harrison collaboration but this time with Jeff Hanna on a Chely Wright song, “Emma Jean’s Guitar”. It’s an album track from Chely’s 1997 Let Me In CD, which featured “Shut Up and Drive”. The story tells of a guitar with Emma Jean’s name etched in the finish found in a pawnshop. The singer wonders about Emma Jean’s hopes and dreams and feels that she’s the guardian of her guitar.

Gary has written quite a few great songs without Matraca. Another frequent co-writer for Gary has been Tim Mensy. My favorite Mensy-Harrison collaboration is Trisha Yearwood’s “Nearest Distant Shore”, an album track from her 1992 Hearts in Armor CD. It’s a song about getting out of a bad relationship: “You did your best but “the one you swore to love is pulling you down, you’re in over your head, chilled to the bone by the waters you’ve tread, chart a course to land before you drown”.

“That Wasn’t Me” was an excellent album track for Martina McBride on her 1993 CD, The Way That I Am. She knows that the guy is still hurting from the memory of an old girlfriend. She tells him “that wasn’t me”. It’s time to move on because she “can no longer pay the price” of his not letting go.

For fans of Mark Chesnutt, there’s “I Just Wanted You to Know”, a #1 song in ’94 from the CD Almost Goodbye and a #6 the same year, “She Dreams”, from What a Way to Live. Other Mensy Harrison collaborations include Doug Stone’s “I Thought It Was You”, a #4 in 1991, “A Singer in the Band”, an album track on Joe Nichol’s Revelation CD in 2004, and a Mark Wills song “Any Fool Can say Goodbye”.

With J.D. Martin, Gary Harrison wrote “Rollin’ Lonely”, a Johnny Lee song from his “Workin’ for a Livin’ ” album, which reached #9 on the charts in 1985, “Domestic Life”, a John Conlee #4 hit from his “American Faces” album in 1987, “Two Car Garage”, a #3 hit in 1983 from the B.J. Thomas album “The Great American Dream” and “Broken Toys”, a song about child abuse from BJ’s 1985 album “Throwin’ Rocks at the Moon”. The last song was written with Gloria Thomas as well as J.D.

Gary co-wrote 3 songs with Tammy Cochran from her “Thirty Something and Single” album released in June of 2009, the title track, “It’s All Over But the Leaving” and “He Really Thinks He’s Got It”.

With Karen Staley, he wrote “Face in the Crowd” which peaked at #4, a duet with Michael Martin Murphey and Holly Dunn from the former’s 1987 “Americana” album and “Now and Then” which Michelle Wright took to #9 in Canada.

Some other Gary Harrison songs are:

- “I Hate Everything” written with Keith Stegall, a #1 for George Strait in 2005. Check out the wake-up call at the end.

- “Alone Some” with Billy Yates, an album track for Billy from his 2005 album “Harmony Man”.

- “Crazy Me” and “I Do It for Your Love” with Richard Marx, from the Kenny Rogers 2000 CD There You Go Again.

Impressive list and I’ve probably missed some songs. If you search BMI.com, you’ll find 918 work titles for Gary Harrison. He’s been so busy, he probably hasn’t had time to set up a website or MySpace.

A guest contribution from Country Universe reader Zack Jodlowski.

When I first came across country music back in the eighth grade, I automatically gravitated towards the female artists of country music. When I heard the romp-stomping performance of “I’m Gonna Take That Mountain,” I thought “I have to hear more!”

Reba McEntire’s music has been such a lifesaver for me, that four years after my mom died, I found new found strength within me that allowed me to make peace with her death. It says a lot for a teenager to relate so strongly to the lyrics of Reba McEntire songs. Reba has been my favorite artist of all time, and she’ll most likely remain that for as long as I live.

Reba McEntire has been the heartbreak queen, an entertainer, and a superstar; at times she doesn’t make music choices that are spot-on, but her ability to deliver a song with an emotional tinge in her voice is all but rare in the music business, and with this ability she lifts a song up to another level. Reba also finds a way to relate to her audience with her music, whether it be helping someone through tragedies or inspiring people to continue to chase their dreams. Reba’s ability to adapt to the changing times and to continue to make herself relevant to the new country music generations is one that transcends the biases on radio that are established against females and the elder men and women of country music.

It was hard to narrow Reba’s extensive catalog down to twenty-five songs, and hard not to include some of her other great songs, but in the end I’ve managed to pick my twenty-five personal favorites.

#25

“Bobby”

For My Broken Heart, 1991

Truly heartbreaking. Bobby kills his spouse, causing hatred from his son to be thrust upon him, but in the chorus we find he does this out of love (he didn’t want his spouse to suffer any longer). His son later realizes his father’s intentions and realizes “He still missed his mama, but he’d missed his daddy too.” This is one of the rare Reba McEntire co-writes found in her catalog.

#24

“Fancy”

Rumor Has It, 1990

Reba captures the story of a woman thrust into prostitution at a young age by her mother in an iconic performance, but the woman is not ashamed or angry; she knows that her mother had to save her from a life of desperation and despair.

#23

“The Night the Lights Went Out In Georgia”

For My Broken Heart, 1991

This song creeped me out when I was younger. However, I grew to love it, and it’s a great classic covered by a great singer, and one of Reba’s best ‘story’ songs. I love to listen to it in the car driving at night, gives me an eerie feel, or a great listen for Halloween. In fact, let’s go find Andy’s house next Halloween and scare the heck out of him!

#22

“Walk On”

Sweet Sixteen, 1989

In the Heartbreak Queen era, Reba was making up-tempo songs like these few and far in between; or at least, she didn’t become well-known for them until “Fancy” came around.

#21

“Little Rock”

Whoever’s in New England, 1986

Reba’s had enough of this jerk, and when he comes home he’ll find that little rock.

#20

“Once You’ve Learned To Be Lonely”

Room to Breathe, 2003

Reba’s role as the advice-giver never fails as she warns people that settling in loneliness just makes it harder to get back into the world. One of Reba’s more rootsy performances of the 2000’s, Room to Breathe defiantly featured her best work of the decade.

#19

“(You Lift Me) Up To Heaven”

Feel the Fire, 1980

I fell in love with this song when I first heard it. It’s among one of my favorites of Reba’s early, early stuff.

#18

“Every Other Weekend” (ft. Kenny Chesney)

Reba Duets, 2007

The heartbreak queen returns with what she does best! Reba conveys so much emotion in the song; it’s hard for Chesney to keep up. But it’s definitely one of Reba’s best duets of all time.

#17

“Somebody Should Leave”

My Kind of Country, 1984

Two parents who don’t love each other anymore, but they love their kids, so they’ll stay together “hoping somehow they might need each other again.” Sad, Sad, Sad, but an excellent performance from McEntire.

#16

“With You I Am”

Love Revival, 2008

When you are with someone you love, you’re free to be yourself. (Also check out Reba’s cover of “I’ll Still Be Loving You”).

#15

“Sweet Music Man”

Greatest Hits Volume III: I’m a Survivor, 2001

This was the version I heard first, and it’s kind of hard to top it. Reba sings with such grace and simplicity.

#14

“Consider Me Gone”

Keep on Loving You, 2009

He doesn’t want to deal with her right now, so she’s giving him the choice, listen or “consider me gone.” One of Reba’s best of the decade, and one of her biggest hits of the decade, proving she’s still a contender for radio airplay.

#13

“You’re Gonna Be”

Reba #1’s, 2005

New parenthood is a scary thing, but in this song we find parents always picture their children reaching for the stars. I’ve always had a nice picture of my mom (I was her first born) thinking these things when she held me in her arms.

#12

“If I Had Only Known”

For My Broken Heart, 1991

A really powerful song, Reba never released this as a single, but it is one of the best she’s ever recorded. A stoic performance from a woman in grieving, this album was truly her masterpiece. The emotional tinges in her voice when she sings makes me choke up, anyone got a Kleenex?

#11

“Waitin’ for the Deal to Go Down”

Rumor Has It, 1990

When I first heard this whole CD, I loved it; I thought it was fantastic. This song finds Reba questioning just why it’s taking her boyfriend so long to propose, fearing the worst; she states “do I love you? I’m afraid I do. Do you love me? Once upon a time I was sure I knew.”

#10

“Let the Music Lift You Up”

What Am I Gonna Do About You, 1986

Country music’s ‘American Pride’ song of the 1980’s. I love this song because it’s so rare to get a great upbeat song from Reba, and using music to unite the nation is a novel concept.

#9

“The Fear of Being Alone”

What If It’s You, 1996

Two bruised lovers go on a first date. He wants something more, but Reba knows what’s coming and warns him that it’s just “the fear of being alone.”

#8

“Is There Life Out There”

For My Broken Heart, 1991

With this, Reba inspired many women to go back to college; besides the great song, voice, music, and singer; I find a lot of my mom in this song, just before she died she went back to college, and I’d always like to think Reba might have something to do with that.

#7

“You Lie”

Rumor Has It, 1990

Only Reba could make us feel sorry for this character, who’s aware that her spouse is struggling on how to break up with her, so she allows him to lie to her, even though “maybe it’s wrong, but you know how much I love you, so you lie.” By the way, did I mention that it’s one of her best vocals of all time?

#6

“He Gets That from Me”

Room to Breathe, 2003

Truly one of the better post-9/11 songs in country music. Reba ends with a heartbreaking “he really misses you, he gets that from me.” When I first saw the video (this was within my first ten Reba songs I heard) I almost bawled, thinking how does she know me so well?

#5

“Somebody”

Room to Breathe, 2003

Everyone’s looking for that one special person, and only Reba could convince you (in her own special perk-you-up way) that there is someone waiting out there for you.

#4

“What If It’s You”

What If It’s You, 1996

One of my favorite heartbreak songs from Reba, it’s a story as old as the hills. Reba loves him, spends three minutes talking about how he’s her soul mate; and how if they got together she’d never let him go. But of course, Reba never gets him; I just love Reba when she’s in ‘heartbreak queen’ mode, that’s when she’s at her strongest.

#3

“She Can’t Save Him” (ft. Trisha Yearwood)

Reba Duets, 2007

“And that day she’ll know, she hasn’t failed, ‘Cause nothing can change until he saves himself.” When you love someone, it’s hard to see them sink into the dark, but you can’t do anything until they help themself. Reba and Trisha bring out the best in each other, lamenting about a woman who tries to save her husband from his drinking problem with no avail. One of my favorite duets… no, songs from Reba’s catalog.

#2

“One Promise Too Late”

What Am I Gonna Do About You, 1986

The Heartbreak Queen’s finest moment, running across an old crush/flame, and finding they love you. But you’re in a new relationship, and so you’re stuck with hurting a friend and yourself. And you find yourself wondering “where were you, when I could have loved you?” Reba shines on this song, and it is the only reason why disc one of her 50 Greatest Hits collection is the one that finds the most ‘spins’ in my car.

#1

“For My Broken Heart”

For My Broken Heart, 1991

Thank god this song wasn’t a duet with Clint Black. It is a masterpiece when Reba sings it by herself, and this sole song has helped me through dealing with my mom’s death. In the song we find heartbreak and the realization that we have to find some strength to move on. I think Reba’s artistic peak was on this CD, it [For My Broken Heart] was (again) the masterpiece of her career, and proves through grief and pain we come out stronger; finding a brighter day among the pain, seeing that life goes on, and that the world won’t stop for our broken hearts.

The movies have the Oscars, the world of music has the Grammys, and that world subdivided into the country genre has the CM’s—the annual extravaganza that we fans look forward to every year. We see our favorites perform, win awards and lose with smiling gracious faces, or not [insert the inevitable Faith Hill reference here]. Everyone picks their favorites in each category as to who they’d like to win. But what about the show itself, the backdrop for which these prestigious awards are presented?

Recently, there have been posts at both The 9513 and on this site where people have been weighing in on their favorite moments from these awards. It occurred to me that none of those moments have happened in the last few years. The awards have slid into mediocrity, which is a fitting representation of the current state of country music. I understand producing these awards must be tough because you have to be everything to everyone, and acknowledge the traditional country, the Disney country, the old and new alike, and bring in people who don’t belong for the sake of ratings.

What’s wrong with the show?

The awards themselves seem like an after thought, filler in between all the endless performances. The main suspense isn’t who wins, but rather, how many performances the producers can fit in 3 hours. Also, it’s become an award show that is ashamed of its roots, barely mentioning who is inducted into the Hall of Fame. Any artist with the slightest sign of a wrinkle, regardless of their legend status is shunned and hidden in the audience next to seat fillers and radio contest winners. It’s an award show with self esteem issues, not cool enough to stand on its own. You can bet the main attraction used to promote this year’s show will be a non-country performer like Kid Rock, The Eagles of last year, and Jamie Foxx of two years ago.

What can be done?

Well, the first order of business would be for the Sommet Center to take out a one day restraining order from Miley Cyrus on November 11, 2009, or better yet, the whole Cyrus family, Billy Ray, Noah, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. Yes, she’ll bring in ratings, but we’ve gotten along fine without her for 40 plus years.

The CMA’s need to take a cue from  the Grammy awards, or even the American Idol finale. There are so many surprises, legends, moving moments, coming at you, left right and center, you don’t know what’s coming next, all you know is you’re in for the ride, you’re loving every second and you’re talking about it the next day. Last year, the biggest surprise was Shania Twain presenting Entertainer of the Year, which she has done at least 3 times before, and to those who keep up on country news, it was hardly a surprise at all.

What can possibly be done to make the night more entertaining?

How about taking a cue from this yearis Academy Awards and only announce a handful of performers, leaving the rest a mystery? Don’t tell us who and what everyone’s performing, which leaves more room for surprises. Also, like the Oscars, don’t announce who is presenting, and before each award have a mini-montage of past winners. Then at the end, the curtain opens and a surprise past winner comes out and shares insights on their winning experience. Instead of the otherwise cheesy dialogue or weird presenter pairings, it would make more sense if they just brought out Trisha Yearwood for Female Vocalist, Vince for Male, The Judds for Duo, Alabama forGroup, and hand it off to the winner like an Olympic torch or rite of passage. This way of thinking would work out great for the Entertainer of the Year category, in bringing out past winners, Roy Clark, and Barbara Mandrell, who also happen to be this year’s Hall of Fame inductees.

Speaking of the Hall of Fame, I would prefer it if it went back to how it used to be with a taped bio and artists performing a medley of hits. But even that is too much to ask. If they are going to cut it out entirely, the least they could do is show 3 separate 30-60 second bios of each of the inductees at different times as they are going to commercial and have them wave from the audience. Or, from the paragraph above, show a taped piece just before Barbara and Roy present Entertainer.

The most boring parts of the show are seeing full performances from all the mundane hits of the past year. Was it necessary for Darius Rucker to perform “Don’t Think I Don’t Think About It” last year when he wasn’t nominated? Yes, it’s necessary for the biggest hits to be performed, but does every top 5 hit of the past year have to be sung? Instead, encourage them to sing unique songs, like Alan Jackson in 2005 performing, “Wonderful Tonight”, songs you’ll actually remember more than 5 minutes after they are performed. Another idea, which the Grammys have down pat, is pairing people up. Think of the Al Green, Keith Urban, Justin Timberlake and Boys 2 Men grouping of earlier this year. For the CMA’s, this would be a perfect year to acknowledge the 20th anniversary of the hat act boom of 89. Why not bring out Alan Jackson, Clint Black, Garth Brooks, and Travis Tritt for a small medley?

Instead of each of the new artist nominees performing their full songs – do we really want to see Julianne Hough performing a full version of her song this year? -  it would be great if they stole from the ACM’s all-star opener this year, and did the same thing with the 5 nominees. Lady Antebellum can be the ring leader like Brooks & Dunn were at the ACMs, and they all can perform a small portion of their hits. To wrap it up, Lady Antebellum can present the award. This will allow more time for the Collaboration and Video of the year awards to be back on the telecast.

If you ran the CMAs, thinking creatively but realistically, which special moments would you create that could go down in history and make country’s biggest night more fun to watch? How would you make George Strait’s performance less predictable? And how would you measure that Miley restraining order? In inches, feet, yards, or miles?

My Start in Country Music
By Craig Ross

My memories only started collecting at age four. That year, 1969, my uncle was shot and seriously wounded in Vietnam. I had just started eating hamburgers for the first time. During the summer I saw Neil Armstrong walk on the moon on my parent’s bedroom black and white television set. And I knew the entire lyrics to only two songs, which I sang over and over again: “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” by B.J Thomas and “King of the Road” by the great Roger Miller. But growing up in a Baltimore suburb in a middle class, college educated black American home placed me in a rare position. My cousins listened to Motown, R&B, and some pop. The adults listened mainly to jazz. My parents were open to all types of music, and the one I fell in love with was country music.

In 1969 they still called it country-western music. And at that point in time it seemed to be everywhere. On the radio they played Roger Miller, Johnny Cash, Glen Campbell, and Eddy Arnold on pop stations. On television country music was coming into its own. In 1969 alone we watched Hee-Haw, The Porter Waggoner Show,  The Johnny Cash Show and The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour. The first time I ever saw the great Louis Armstrong was on Cash’s show.

And of course, every sitcom seemed to be about the country living in 1969:  Green Acres, Petticoat Junction, The Beverly Hillbillies and Mayberry RFD. It may have been the perfect time to fall for country music. At four I liked the finger snapping of “King of the Road”, the cowboy hats, and the pretty lady singers in their wigs and gowns on television. I wasn’t dreaming of being a bull rider, a farmer or honky- tonk singer. But music defines you in some way. And at forty-four I realize now that I was being converted to a sound that would anchor the rest of my life. Country spoke to me in way no other music of my youth did. The very nature of the raw storytelling was addictive. Truth undiluted, unfiltered, uncalculated – can be a drug like no other.

Ironically, 1969 may have been the start of the dilution of country music as an inimitable sound. The popularity of country music, as it opened up to a greater audience, invited a series of singers, musicians and producers who had previously only seen country music by its limits. Country music‘s national evolution exposed to its new audience all the strengths and flaws that still haunt country: its loyal audience, its simple form, and its openness to unique voices.

But I would not have come to know country music had it not blossomed at the same time that I was growing up. Country music adjusted my sense of self and values. I gravitated to the three minutes of twang because country music never seemed angry to me. The music wasn’t always happy. But like all great storytelling, happiness is usually not the objective. Country music talked about what happened after you grew up. That subject always attracted my senses. I wanted to know what happened when the tingle became the chill. At the same time country music never insulted me or used my faith or values in a trite manner.

Even though the voices of country music were primarily white and Southern, that point never seemed to distract me. Perhaps because during the seventies country music appeared to be a more welcoming sound. As though they had a secret to tell and I was their ear. As an only child I always wondered what the adults were whispering. They knew some truth, some secret, I didn’t. And adult talk in country seemed to fill in the details. That is really how I fell in love with country music. I thought I was being subversive.

But I was really being hypnotized. I was quietly being fed a form of poetry that emphasized substance over style and authenticity over flair. Behind all the wigs, gowns, and Nudie suits were real people who were using their life stories, or folks they knew, to provide a connection of humanity and honesty. Yes, they were famous. Yes, they got rich. But after all that, they still had problems; cold, hard problems. Fame and money only accented their troubles.

The stories from Glen Campbell, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, George Jones and Dolly Parton invited my young, small mind to really think about the people around me. In many ways the black men and women I knew were, at that time, quite similar to country music. They were coming into their own, and starting to enjoy a status and attention, mainly because of a greater economic position, that was new and empowering to them. They were overwhelmed and attracted at the same time to having their voices taken seriously. And while they prospered their vulnerability was exposed. As a child I could hear and see in country music the same growing pains I saw at home. Those three chords played against lyrics of a truth that was not foreign to me. Country music filled in the blanks.

My father, although college educated and successful with his work, was a major alcoholic. My mother, a school teacher and devout Catholic, did everything within her power to create a meaningful, happy home. They had both been propelled by the civil rights movement into a new middle class life that offered more opportunities than they could have dreamed of as children. But the struggles and sufferings were still there. As I listened to country singers, I heard their feelings described in ways that they could not have expressed to me as a child. Country music helped me to understand who my parents were and how they got through the day.

Meanwhile, in the mid-seventies, the sound of country started coming from places that were not country. The Eagles sang country. John Denver sang country. Olivia Newton John sang country. Even Marie Osmond was hailed as a country singer. Those singers, while arguably interesting, were arresting the very sound of country. They were removing the core of country, only to replace it with music that was made to make country more welcoming to a bigger audience. Fame had swept country music off-balance.

And yet I know that most country music was not written for me. I am not a Southerner. I didn’t grow up poor or in a rural area. And from four to eighteen I wasn’t a hard drinking, good lovin’, good timing man. But from Alabama to George Strait to Bill Monroe to Bob Wills I was drawn to country music. As romantic as it sounds, the country music I have listened to since four never betrayed me in the real world. Other genres of music can express feelings and thoughts that have no roots in reality. Those themes are the reflection of want and desires that are meant to encourage the listener to think above and beyond their own senses. But country music only asks me to think about the here and now, the real life in front of me, and my hand in the choices of the future.

Which brings me to Bobbie Gentry’s “Ode to Billie Joe” and Marty Robbins’ “El Paso”. Every time I hear those songs, or country songs like them, it is like reading a short story in three minutes. I imagine every detail, every point of view, and I am still left wondering. Why did Billie Joe kill himself? Why did the cowboy kill and return? Was it merely for love? A great country song asks as many questions as it answers. That is what creates its intimacy, and establishes country music’s place among great American literature. I am a part of the story from beginning to end. And then I’m left to ponder and create my own feelings and thoughts. For all the stereotypes that label country music, its real reward is that it never insults the listener, and it is never aloof.

That is why I am nonplused about the state of country music. I wonder if the sounds and feelings of the country music I was married to are being retarded by overexposure to an audience not attuned to its history, by a music video format that condenses everything down to an image or a look, and by simple American greed for quick fame and even quicker profits. Where is the modern day Randy Travis who will save country music from itself? I am discouraged by the amount of time that modern country music spends on being country. Every music genre has to evolve with the core origins of that music intact. That doesn’t mean that any song containing a Southern accent and an obligatory steel guitar or fiddle is country music. That method is trite and pandering. Older country never seemed to pander. It didn’t list Southern clichés for the sake of a quick and general connection with the listener. The song took its sweet time, and said what it had to say.

Since the rise of Shania Twain and Garth Brooks was forged in those early days of expansion for country music. As the audience has grown, the music has slipped away from its base. Few artists are earnest enough to translate the same feelings I got as a child. The adult story isn’t as important as the youthful impulse. What stuns me about the state of country music is that the gatekeepers don’t seem to like or respect the genre. Are they only interested in what funds they can ring out of country music? Do they doubt the audience’s motives and intellect? Or am I just being nostalgic for a sound that was changing even as I was falling for it? Or is this a reflection of a broader audience who wants their country music decaffeinated?

When I was growing up, we lived in a beach house every summer in Delaware. During the seventies, we could only get three radio stations: an all news station, a pop station, and a country station. On weekend nights, after midnight, I would put my earplug into the radio and listen to bluegrass music on the country station. It kind of scared me, which was exciting within itself. The fiddles and the mandolins played against voices that sounded like a mixture of high, lonesome cries and rare elation. Bluegrass music sounded the way I felt when I heard country music. I still get that feeling when I hear country music, whether modern or old. I am still shocked that in my world I would be introduced to a sound that would stay with me all my life. I am honored by country music‘s integrity and dignity. I get to carry that sound around wherever I go. I know many of you feel the same way. And I hope that my story connects to yours, and is good enough to be a country song.

If you are interested in writing a guest post for Country Universe, send an e-mail to kevin@countryuniverse.net

Editor’s Note: This is the first guest commentary in the history of Country Universe. Please join me in welcoming Paul Edward, who e-mailed me this passage and graciously allowed me to share it here. – K.

Why I Love Country Music

Guest Commentary by Paul Edward

Wednesday night my friend Stuart and I attended a concert by country music superstar Kenny Chesney at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. Stuart bought my ticket as a surprise birthday gift for me.

Actually, the night turned out to be full of pleasant surprises.

For starters, LeAnn Rimes opened for Kenny and sang her most popular songs. It’s been 15 years since LeAnn burst onto the country music scene with her strong vocals reminiscent of Patsy Cline, but, if anything, time has just made her a better performer. She belted out the tunes, hitting every note flawlessly.

Then Kenny came on. Wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and old blue T-shirt, he seemed dressed more for a backyard barbeque than for a concert in a sold-out Staples Center. But that’s the thing about country music: The songs are so often about real-life situations that the music can make a cold, concrete concert venue feel like a summer’s day at a good friend’s home.

For those of you not familiar with Kenny’s music, he is a gifted storyteller in the tradition of Jimmy Buffett or Johnny Cash. His songs combine memorable lyrics with catchy tunes that carry you away into whatever world he sings about. In “Big Star,” you watch a young girl go from singing in local bars to performing in big-city concert halls. In “Better As a Memory than As Your Man,” you become the proverbial fly on the wall as a deeply saddened man tells his former lover why she is better off without him. Kenny’s music doesn’t just move you emotionally, it transports you into this vivid, multidimensional life experience that he creates.

He sang for two hours and it felt like 30 minutes. Actually, we sang for two hours, because that’s another thing about Kenny’s concerts: Everyone in the audience knows all the words to all his songs and everyone sings along.

To round out the night, there were wonderful surprise appearances by Uncle Kracker and Kid Rock, who played a few rock and roll numbers with Kenny and topped it off with the old David Alan Coe hit, “You Never Even Called Me by My Name,” which brought down the house.

But the night’s biggest surprise for me was a quiet one. It came during the break between LeAnn’s and Kenny’s performances, as the crews changed out and set up the equipment.

Let me preface this story with another. Those of you who have attended my employment law classes know that throughout my life I have experienced subtle and not-so-subtle forms of racism in America. I have been called the “N” word, I have been pulled over by the police for DWB (driving while black), and I have watched ladies clutch their purses tightly to their sides when I walk by.

But at Kenny’s concert, I experienced something altogether different. During the break, the young lady on my left asked me to watch her purse while she and her date went to the restroom. We had never met before, and the only words we had exchanged were “Hi” and “Hello” when the couple had arrived an hour earlier. So it was extraordinary for me that – rather than clutch her purse in fear – she left her purse in my care, not just a stranger, but a stranger of a different race. That, for me, was the night’s most pleasant surprise.

And it reminded me just why I love country music: People who listen to country music tend to be the nicest people I have ever met. Country music fans treat other country music fans as if they are members of the same family. A simple act, yet a powerful lesson that we could all learn and practice.

Paul Edward is the President of Life-Changing Coaching and author of “Moving Forward: Turning Good Intentions Into Great Results by Discovering Yourself, Your Place, & Your Path.” He is a former US Marine, actor, and corporate executive. He can be reached at paul@lifechangingcoaching.com