I believe Nashville has episodically wrestled with credibility scares well beyond the famous golden era of the late eighties initially referenced by Steve Earle. The previous two Flashback posts suggest that by 1994, Nashville was once again recording acts who were operating well-outside the mainstream, and unpredictably willing to take a walk on the wild side of life to get in touch with grittier styles of country music than the Music City versions topping the charts.
At 41 years of age, David Ball came close to taking his turbo-charged dance-hall debut single “Thinkin’ Problem” to the top of those same safe and allegedly sanitized charts. The shockingly twangy and intense song offered some much needed honky tonk healing as it climbed to the dreaded number two spot on the Billboard Hot Country Singles & Tracks chart.
The surprise single hit hard and fast enough that Nashville almost had more than just a thinkin’ problem on its hands.
Recorded on Warner Brothers, and produced by Blake Chancey, Thinkin’ Problem was actually Ball’s second album. Six years earlier, Ball had recorded his eponymous debut album with RCA that was mothballed only to be quickly un-shelved and released on the heels of his meteoric success of “Thinkin’ Problem.” Ball expressed being dissatisfied with the results of that Billy Williams-produced recording. He shared not knowing if RCA wanted him to be Jim Reeves, Waylon Jennings, or Roy Orbison. The album was pretty and delicate. It was largely subdued, sweet, and quiet with covers ranging from an early Aaron Tippin co-wrote (“I was Born with a Broken Heart”) to Marty Robbins (“Smokin’ Cigarettes and Drinkin’ Coffee Blues”). The cover art depicts Ball as an elegant and sophisticated retro act. Of that album, Ball said, “…I’d rather they hadn’t released that stuff, because that isn’t really representative of what I do. But a lot of people like that record and I guess I’ve learned to live with it.”
Thinkin’ Problem better captured Hall’s pedigree as a Texas dance hall musician. He looks the part too, wearing a black cowboy hat and denim jacket with an overcoat. “Dance halls, that’s my home. Those big places that are all over Texas and out West where people dance and love music. Split rails, big old Quonset sheds, low ceilings—that’s what I like, “ said Ball. In the late ’70s’ and early ’80 Ball played those places as part of Uncle Walt’s Band. The band included Champ Hood and Walter Hyatt and were hugely influential pioneers of the Austin, Texas scene and a style of music that would later become known as Americana.
Ball observed that there is a real craft to playing those venues, to be able to get people out on the dance floor. He wears the influence of Webb Pierce, Ray Price, and Gary Stewart on his sleeve, which is where you will also find his heart. There is very little about David Ball’s sound that feels contrived or put-on. Kix Brooks said, “David has one of the most classic and sincere voices in country music.”
In addition to the title track, Ball placed “When the Thought of You Catches Up With Me,” “Look What Followed Me Home,” “What Do You Want With His Love,” and “Honk Tonk Healin’” on the charts. “When the Thought of You Catches Up With Me” would climb to number seven, but the following three singles were incrementally losing traction at radio. Ball could fill Texas dance halls but he could not land a coveted number one hit in Nashville.
Ball would spend the rest of his time in Nashville watching his opportunity not coming back.
Radio’s loss, however, would be country music’s gain. Ball would record a series of excellent, energetic albums after Thinkin’ Problem. Each subsequent release offered a subtle twist on his honky-tonk and hard country sound, along with his underappreciated skills as a songwriter. Ball wrote, or co-wrote, nine of the ten songs on Thinkin’ Problem.
The album is wonderfully loose although it is never sloppy or unprofessional. It is bass heavy and thumping as it twirls and spins across a sawdust dance floor of the mind. Ball tears through his vocal performances with equal parts tenderness and toughness. Above all, the album is fun, Ball sounds as if he is having one on every track. David Ball was a square in Nashville’s circle of stars.
Damn, but didn’t he come close to grabbing the brass ring for hard country music in 1994?
If anyone should trot out the tired argument that country music had already lost its flavour early in the nineties boom, offer Mike Henderson’s Country Music Made Me Do It, Bob Woodruff’s Dreams & Saturday Nights, and David Ball’s Thinkin’ Problem as a brilliant twangy triptych country counterpoint.
I remember listening to this entire album… then looking back years later and being surprised that a dude in his 40s had one of the only top-40 pop hits with a country song between “Achy Breaky Heart” and Shania Twain. You will NEVER forget that “yes I admiiiiiiiiit” hook.
I think only age kept him from being more successful in the long run, because he had the goods right away.
Great album. I wasn’t aware of Ball’s debut effort until years later. Nowadays, even in the rare instance that someone like David Ball slips one past the gatekeepers, it’s usually a one and done. I suspect radio would have taken a shine to his “Riding with Private Malone” after 9/11 even if he hadn’t any hits from “Thinkin’ Problem”, but it’s very easy to imagine an alternative universe where Ball had no other songs that charted besides “Private Malone”.
That’s why it’s fascinating that he managed to break through in 1994 with a song as counter to the trends of the era as “Thinkin’ Problem”, a song I just heard on classic country radio last week and cranked up as I always do. It was even more fascinating that he pulled off two additional top-10/top-15 singles on radio after that, along with two more minor hits from the album that had decent runs on CMT. I was befuddled and a bit disappointed that his next album got absolutely new traction. 1996 was the year that my love affair with country music began to cool a bit, largely because the suits had wrestled control of the early 90s creativity, innovation, and risk-taking and quite rapidly began to drown it in the bathtub. The disappearing of David Ball was one of the most tangible signs of the transformation.
Nearly all of David Ball’s catalog is worth revisiting. He should have been a much bigger star.
In the case of Mike Henderson, Bob Woodruff, and David Ball all three of their second albums were arguably improvments on their first. I chose to begin with each of their debuts only because it seemed a cleaner starting place. I absolutely love Balls’ “Starlite Lounge.” 2001’s “Amigo,” however, has the amazing closing track “When The Devil Wants to Wrestle.”
Ball has a timeless appeal.
“Thinking Problem” was a great record–The way David Ball comes in with the vocal “Yes, I admit….” ahead of the instruments makes it memorable and sells it from the get-go.
I liked mmost of Ball’s albums and singles at the time. Except I never really “got” “Private Malone”: The character seems to kind of cheat the old widow/ and mother of the dead soldier–at least by omission, not telling her that a Corvette is more than a mere Chevy; and then he disrespects the car by driving it like a jerk and wrecking it. Sure was nice of the Private’s ghost to suddenly appear and save the cad’s ass.