Tom T.Hall keeps a rappin'

Joel Bernstein, October 1997

Mercury Records has jumped into the "alternative country" field with Tom T. Hall's new album "Home Grown."

Yes, it's the same Tom T. Hall who's recorded 21 Top Ten records. It's the same Tom T. Hall who has written countless other Top Ten hits for other artists, from "D.J. For A Day" by Jimmy Newman in 1963 to Alan Jackson's recent Number One "Little Bitty."

Alternative? When someone makes an album, and both he and his label know full well that it has no chance of getting mainstream radio play, that's "alternative." So what if it sounds the same as all those hits he had? Times have changed.

It's a rare event in modern Nashville when a label head tells an artist to cut an album without worrying about radio play. Hall had actually "retired" a few years ago, but his wife wouldn't let him use that word. Mercury kept the door open for him to record whenever and whatever he wanted.

The radio format playing alternative country calls itself "Americana." You'd hope they would play music that embodies that word. Hall's latest album contains a song called "Watertown, Tennessee," and that's just the latest of many real American towns immortalized in his songs.

Hall's first Number One record, "A Week In A Country Jail," and his most famous song, "Harper Valley P.T.A.," are both set in small towns.

Tom T. Hall is not in the Country Music Hall Of Fame. He is one of several glaring absences from that institution. Not coincidentally, he is not very well-liked in Nashville. "I'm not an asshole," he says. "I've ticked a few people off by just staying at home." Hall has always liked to stay on his Tennessee farm to write and then bring his songs to town.

"Sometimes you're conspicuous by your absence. You offend someone by not being in the right place at the right time. There's a lot of shmoozing in Nashville."

Asked if he feels he belongs in the Hall of Fame, Tom T. says "I don't know. I don't think anybody went into the Hall thinking they deserve to be there. It's kind of an ego thing. It's like walking up to a stranger and saying 'I need a hug.'"

Hall has also offended some people in other ways. "I've been outspoken about a couple of things." Hall admits.

Some of this outspokenness was in his songs.

While his new album sticks pretty much to storytelling, he has dealt with some major social issues in past songs.

Take Vietnam. Hall wrote the first-ever Vietnam hit when Johnny Wright took "Hello Vietnam" to Number One in the summer of 1965. A few months later, Dave Dudley scored big with "What We're Fighting For."

In 1965, Hall still seemed to accept the government line about the need to save the world from Communism. But even in these early songs, Hall humanized the war. Both songs were sung from the soldier's perspective; it was "Good-bye sweetheart, hello Vietnam" and "Mama, please tell them what we're fighting for."

These were a far cry from the strident jingoistic stance of many other songwriters. In fact, Hall says even "Hello Vietnam" was written with a degree of irony. "I wrote it with the idea of 'Hello, another war.'"

A few years later, Hall wrote "Mama Bake A Pie." This too was sung from the soldier's perspective, but now he's returning home as a cripple. Hall never directly criticized the war effort in this song, but the horrible picture of war he painted spoke for itself.

"The Chicago Story," a minor hit for Jimmy Snyder, is about a soldier and his bride saying good-bye at the airport as he heads back to Vietnam. The story is moving enough even before Hall's dramatic twist ending "War Is Hell (On The Homefront Too)" was someone else's later hit. "The Chicago Story" made the same point much more eloquently, and while the Vietnam conflagration was still raging.

Hall undoubtedly ruffled a few feathers with "Watergate Blues," which reached the Top Twenty in 1973. Describing the 1972 election of Nixon as "America bought a new used car," Hall scorched others as well. "I'm not a fan of politicians. They don't listen a lot. They spend too much time dwelling on things set in concrete."

Social commentary also carries with it the danger of being misunderstood. One of Hall's most recent efforts, "Thoughts On The Flag" was a brilliant dissection of the emotional issue of flag-burning. "Some fellow came up to me and said 'You're right. If anyone burns my flag I'll shoot the son of a bitch.' And I thought 'Whoa! Was that in there?'""Fanatics I don't like. Rhetoric is their main weapon. There's got to be a middle. Wars are fought over this." But, Hall warns, "We're born with it. Everybody, in order to make their point, violates common sense truths."

Hall achieved success as a recording artist despite a major handicap. "I never thought I was much of a singer, and it's obvious if you listen some. I'm concentrating on the lyrics and story." Most of Hall's records are simply rhythmic recitation with musical accompaniment. In other words, Tom T. Hall was the first major rap artist.

He has a different word for it. "I'm a stylist. That's the way we get away with it. That's a euphemism for people who can't sing. I never attempted any grand and glorious vocal feats."

Some who study Hall's lyrics have commented on his ability to be non-judgmental. Others might describe it as an ability to cut through all the emotion of issues and get to the essence. Hall says, "I'm not a judge, I'm a witness." And, he says, "I found out, in writing story songs, if you don't write down exactly what happened, you're not writing, you're relating."

He adds, "You've got to be careful to not be too clever and upstage the song. There are times I'll tell a story, and someone will respond by telling a joke. Some people don't know the difference."

Hall is not a person to dwell in the past. "People are always assuming I'm disenchanted with music today. I say 'They're not doing heart surgery the way they used to.' Things change. These are good kids, and they're making the kind of music that makes them happy. They all look like movie stars and sing like birds." He adds, though. "The volume. That's the one part of it I don't get. It's all cranked up so loud."

"Home Grown" is an acoustic album, as Hall's music always has been. "We used drums and pianos, but we didn't plug in. How ironic then, that Hall once quit the Grand Ole Opry because they wouldn't let him use drums on stage. "They said I couldn't use the same instruments I used in the studio. There was something illogical about it."

He finds the Nashville song factory mentality more annoying than the musical styles.

"There are five big restraints on songs today. Will it make a good video? Can they dance to it? Is it Politically Correct? Is it radio friendly? Does it fit the artist's image? You can lose a good song because it doesn't meet one of those criteria."

The latest trend in Nashville is that no one can write a song alone. "I've never been a co-writer. I don't know how they do that. Sometimes a song has four publishers and four writers. How do they all get together? There's a lot about this business I don't understand."

Of his new album, he explains "I tried not to go in and prove anything. I'm not grinding any axes in this thing." Of the idea that he's now "alternative," Hall says "those types of labels don't get it. The world is full of music, and it's all kind of mingling."

Two of Hall's biggest hits offer widely contrasting philosophies of life. One says it's "Old Dogs, Children, and Watermelon Wine." Another suggests "Faster Horses, Younger Women, Older Whiskey, More Money." Which one does Hall endorse today?

"'Old Dogs' takes precedence. I'm 60 years old. But there was a day when "Faster Horses" was my theme song. I've had a good time."



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