Johnny Paycheck remembers where he was the day Faron Young died. He and Merle Haggard were sitting on a tour bus, winding down after a late-night gig in Florida. The door opened, and an associ-...... ate climbed aboard grimly. He told them he’d just heard that Young, Paycheck’s former boss and a fellow honky-tonk legend, had died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.
Paycheck was stunned. “I never figured him for that,” he said in a phone interview last week. “He was a strong-willed guy.... Guess he just got tired.”
There was a time when Paycheck himself seemed marked for similar self-destruction. Substance abuse and a spate of legal troubles, including a brief prison stretch in the late 1980s, destroyed the momentum of his career. It didn’t help that, to a generation of country fans, he was pigeonholed as the blustery wildman of “Colorado Kool-Aid” and “I’m the Only Hell (Mama Ever Raised).” By the 1990s, ironically enough, he found his brand of outlaw country unwelcome in the staid business culture of new-traditionalist Nashville. Johnny Paycheck could’ve gotten tired himself.
Instead, he continued to tour and to make music. And in the past year, he’s started to get some of the long-overdue respect that he deserves as an artist. The biggest break was the release last year of The Real Mr. Heartache, a sterling Country Music Foundation collection of his mid-’60s sides for producer Aubrey Mayhew’s Little Darlin’ Records. Songs such as the aching title track, “The Ballad of Frisco Bay,” and “I’ve Got Someone to Kill” told the new country audience what collectors had known for years: that Johnny Paycheck wrote some of the most haunting ballads and story-songs ever to come out of Nashville—and that he belongs with the finest honky-tonk singers ever.
“It’s really been a shot in the arm for me,” Paycheck says of the collection. “For once, somebody [presented the songs] in a good light.” Even so, Paycheck doesn’t want to dwell on the past. He says he only really started writing again eight months ago, and in recent months he has tantalized audiences with glimpses of new material. At a last-minute gig this past fall at Wolfy’s, he unveiled two superb new songs: a ballad, “On Fire Again,” very much in the vein of his early-’70s love songs for Epic, and an instant jukebox classic called “If You Think You’re Lonely, You Ought to Be Here With Me.”
“Right now, I’m writing a lot about life situations—love, prison,” Paycheck deadpans. The thought of new Paycheck material on either subject should be enough to bring music-industry types to Caffé Milano, where he plays a showcase performance this coming Wednesday night. Although he says he’s bothered by “so much repetitious stuff” on country radio, he likes the sound of relative newcomers such as Tim McGraw and Mark Chesnutt, and he hopes to “get one of those new guys” as producer to update or recapture his honky-tonk sound.
Several alternative-country labels are said to be sending reps, but Paycheck isn’t sweating it. Asked if he’s afraid labels will just want carbon copies of his 1977 blockbuster “Take This Job and Shove It,” he replies, “I don’t think a label will demand much of me other than my expertise. I always sold more of the novelties, but I’m more into the ballads now. As far as the singing goes, I’m too old to change.” Hallelujah for that.
Paycheck takes the stage Wednesday night at 8 and 10:30 p.m. Tickets are $15, and reservations are a good idea. Call 255-0073 for more information. (JR)
With its 1997 event, the Nashville Entertainment Association’s annual Extravaganza continues to expand into a national recording industry showcase while still bringing attention to the non-country side of the city’s music scene. Looking at the massive lineup of bands—more than 250 in all—the event’s schizophrenic clash of purposes becomes clear. It’s the same challenge many other music festivals must confront: While organizers want to bring attention to lesser-known performers, they also want to attract crowds and music-industry talent scouts.
The Extravaganza’s expansion mirrors the growth of similar festivals in Austin, Minneapolis, Seattle, Memphis, and Chicago. The pattern is always the same: Initially, the purpose of these events is to draw attention to a local music scene, but before long the scope is enlarged to include popular acts with major-label deals.
The theory is that both local crowds and national movers-and-shakers are more likely to show up if there are bigger enticements. After all, Nashville residents can see such worthy local acts as Boomgates, Swan Dive, Kevin Gordon, and iodine without having to brave massive crowds. But throw in a performer like Robyn Hitchcock, Edwin McCain, Ron Sexsmith, or Drivin’ and Cryin’, and locals get excited about what’s going on in their midst. Who knows, they might even catch a Nashville band they haven’t heard before.
More national music executives, meanwhile, are likely to visit Nashville for the Extravaganza if a performer they’re involved in promoting or developing is scheduled to appear. If Geffen Records is negotiating to sign Robbie Fulks, for instance, then a few of the company’s staff members might fly into town to see him. In the process, they’re likely to catch a few other unsigned acts they’ve been wanting to hear.
The only problem with the growth of events such as the Extravaganza is that “buzz bands” and better-known performers inevitably draw all the attention. Clubs featuring performances by Hitchcock or Lucinda Williams or first-time Nashville appearances by Amy Rigby or the Waco Brothers are likely to attract overflow crowds, while clubs featuring lesser-known locals will have trouble filling a room. That leaves local bands wondering if the Extravaganza is about bringing recognition to Nashville performers or if it’s about bringing recognition to the attorneys, managers, and young industry types who put the music fest together year after year.
Whatever the case, the NEA should be applauded for turning the Extravaganza into a viable weekend showcase packed with local, regional, and national talent. That said, however, the organization should also be taken to task for attempting to inflate its importance: On a brochure promoting the 1997 event, the NEA has included a list of local bands that ostensibly signed record deals after their Extravaganza appearances. In truth, it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly how, why, and when a particular act got signed. The NEA says last year’s Extravaganza led to recording contracts for Fleming & John, Kami Lyle, R.B. Morris, Matthew Ryan, Stella, and St. Louis-based Stir. But Fleming & John had already inked their contract by this time last year, and Stella caught the attention of Beggars Banquet Records with a show in Seattle, not in Nashville. MCA didn’t see Kami Lyle until months after last year’s event, and it didn’t take the Extravaganza to bring Morris to the attention of Nashville-based Oh Boy Records. As for Ryan, the A&M executive who signed him was already intently interested in him; she showed up in Nashville for the Extravaganza mainly to pursue him before other record companies had a chance to beat her to the punch.
One thing can’t be argued, though: A lot of effort goes into making the Extravaganza an event of enormous potential for local musicians and music biz pigs. Fans, too, benefit from so much music being crammed into so many places at one time. Beyond Hitchcock and the Waco Brothers, there are no big surprise name acts taking part this year, but there’s a lot of local and regional music worth seeing. So mark your calendars now: The event takes place Feb. 19-22. (MM)
