Brad Paisley: the savior of country music?

Jeffrey B. Remz, May 2001

If anyone should be considered the poster boy for traditional country music today, it's Brad Paisley.

The West Virginian has made no secret whatsoever about his love of old school country, the Grand Ole Opry and the folks who he thinks made the music great.

He may wear a hat, but Paisley has never been considered part of the erstwhile hat pack brigade.

When Paisley was inducted into the Grand Ole Opry in February, The Possum, George Jones, wrote a letter, stating, "When Randy Travis came along he brought back enthusiasm for traditional country music, then more recently, Alan Jackson has reminded fans of how great traditional country music is, and now I am counting on you to carry on the tradition and make folks sit up and listen to what good country music should sound like."

"It's a catch 22," says Paisley on a cellphone during an interview from Nashville prior to the release of his second album "Part II." "Part of me is so proud of the fact that I'm seen as a traditional artist. Most of me is proud. That's what I want to be seen as. No one can sit there and say I'm not. That's a good feeling. That's what I was hoping to be labeled as."

"The catch 22 is this is a very divisive topic in country music right now," says Paisley, 28. "There are people who really get offended by somebody (like me). They think what do you have against the new stuff? There are people on the other end who feel like the new people who have something against the old stuff. That's just unhealthy. The thing about it that I try to dwell on in that my heroes are happy with me. Buck Owens - we talk about once a week. He seems to love me like a son. That feeling, that camaraderie was one of the reasons I wanted to do this in the first place."

"Here's George Jones, probably the greatest living country singer of all time. He's just one of those legends. He's done it all. He's the reason we even have places like the Opry that we can go to and have country music. He has done more for the sound for what you consider the sound of a country singer and song, and here's this guy who says he likes what I am doing."

Paisley wants to make it clear he is not condemning other musicians.

"Just because I stand up for tradition music doesn't mean anybody else is wrong to do the other stuff. Maybe that was something they artistically needed to do. Me, that doesn't fit me. You see me doing a record like that, I've lost it because that's just not me, and I'm probably grasping at straws."

After being one of the few traditional country acts to have much success in recent years at a time when the pop and rock sound of folks like Tim and Faith are ascendant, Paisley shies away from being the torchbearer and savior of traditional country in the 21st century.

"There must be somebody out there cutting down timber and building a cross," jokes Paisley. "I don't know that I'm willing to die for it. A martyr for its cause? I don't know. I just hope people like what I do."

Chances are those who liked Paisley's debut will enjoy "Part II."

And that is no coincidence, according to Paisley.

"This one sort of came from the same batch of songs the first album came from. They were all written about the same time back in the early and mid '90's before I had a record deal. I had collected enough songs that I couldn't put them all on one album. I had enough uptempos and ballads, I had enough things that I wanted to cut. I might have had eight ballads, but I couldn't put eight ballads on the first album."

Paisley mixes it up with shuffles, honky tonks, an instrumental, a gospel track and "Too Country," featuring Jones, Buck and Bill Anderson. Many of the songs contain a story.

The new batch, with a harder-edged country sound than the debut, is not exactly for the pop country crowd.

The first single is "Two People Fell in Love," a look at generations of '

a family occurring because "two people fell in love."

"I just feel that 'Two People' was the right sentiment and the right way to kick off this album. It really says something that feels like a first single. Sometimes coming out with a first single that's a depressing ballad, that's not always the way to kick off a record."

Paisley says the single demonstrates "we're back. Here's what we have to say now."

The song did not come about so easily.Tim Owens and Kelley Lovelace, who does a lot of writing for Paisley, wrote together one day in Nashville. Paisley was not slated to join them, but stopped by on his way to dinner.

"It was really interesting because they were in the middle of writing something that they weren't fired up about at all. It was sort of one of those things that neither one of you wants to admit when you're in the middle of writing it. You know in your gut it's not going anywhere but you don't want to pull the plug and forget it. They played it for me, and I asked what they thought of it, and they said, "I don't know, and I said "I don't either."

The three talked about songs and "putting your heart into it and the whole point of why you sit down to write and life and why we're here. Next thing you know, we're answering it."

They actually considered some negative verses, including divorce, but "it was blowing the whole Hallmark mentality of the song - the feel good (aspect). Let's not talk about it. In the greater scheme, that's what happens when two people fall in love."

Not everything is so sweet. "I'm Gonna Miss Her," perhaps a summer single, finds the guy choosing fishing over a girl.

Paisley wrote "Come On Over Tonight" with fellow singer Chely Wright.

Wright and Paisley had played the Opry on a Saturday and were booked to write together that Monday. "We were talking about the fact that I still needed an uptempo song," says Paisley. "We were still trying to finish one of the things that I wrote with her. She said, "Aren't you worried?' I said, "No, I'm not worried. She said, 'you know you cut Tuesday.'"

"I gave her this big speech - 'It'll happen. Just see.' That Sunday, we sat down to write, and we finish this thing for her in 20, 30 minutes. We started talking. We didn't even go to lunch. We had an idea, and she went 'there it is.' Talking about guys and saying how I love you. She made the comment it's like this or that happening. It's something strange. That's all good and everything, but I can't wait to see those flying pigs."

Next thing they knew is they incorporated some strange imagery ("oak trees sprouting dollar bills") and had themselves the start of another song.

"So, we started howling, laughing at the concepts, possibilities for those things. We had a verse and a chorus at 3 p.m., and I had a meeting at 4 p.m with (RCA label head) Joe Galante for songs we were going to cut."

Usually demos, or rough versions of songs are played, but all Paisley had was "a sheet of paper. He heard it, and he laughed, and he said, 'cut it, but finish it.' We got it done by about 11 that night."

"Too Country" could easily be interpreted as a swipe at those who have turned the genre on its face. But Paisley doesn't necessarily see it that way.

When Chuck Cannon and Bill Anderson wrote it, "they probably have music in mind to some degree, but it's also not totally about that. The country way of life to some is a joke and to others is a country way of life. It's the way they live. Maybe somebody makes fun of somebody for living in a city. Here's a misconception - sometimes that something that is too country is bad. That doesn't necessarily mean musically. It could be lifestyle."

"You look at the simplicity of life, going to church on Sundays, trusting your neighbors, no real outside influence...As that all evolved, we lost a little bit of that innocence. It's more a lament maybe towards that. That's what I hear."

"I am thinking about music to some degree. I don't like someone's excuse for why they do or don't like something or why it would or wouldn't fit on a program is because it's too country. Don't tell me that. You don't get to say that. You should tell me, you don't sing that on key or those lyrics don't make sense or sonically that doesn't have merit."

"When I first heard it, it was certainly about music. One of the reasons I loved this song so much was I've been told I'm that (too country)."

"I've never heard anybody on one of these early morning programs say, 'It's just so popular. Can you make it a little less pop? Can you make it a little less country?'"

So far, the West Virginia native has little cause for concern. His 1999 debut, "Who Needs Pictures?," did well right off the mark with the title track, "We Danced Anyway," the playful "Me Neither" and the touching "He Didn't Have to Be" about a stepfather who is close to his stepson.

What perhaps made it even more remarkable was that the album was produced by the unknown Frank Rogers and included members of Paisley's band.

The usual routine is to have a veteran producer direct the show and grab a bunch of hired hands playing a song they just learned.

But Paisley would have none of that.

"That was something I went in there with sort of a prerequisite for - I'm going to bring in some people with me on this that aren't necessarily experienced. The good thing about Arista (later taken over by BMG) was they always gave people their shot. I don't think Don Cook had ever produced anybody before Brooks & Dunn. All of these people sort of got their start. (Label head) Tim (Dubois) saw something in the demos we did. Looking back, I don't know what it was."

Paisley said one of the interesting aspects of the process was that of the first four songs cut, three "We Danced," "Who Needs Pictures" and "Me Neither" - were singles.

Paisley says he was not concerned about commercial success or failure. "I didn't care about that. I wanted to do it the way we wanted to do it. I wanted to do it in a way we'd be proud. If it failed, it failed."

"I always thought it would succeed," says Paisley.

"Any artist that ventures into this kind of thing in his or her mind, you got to believe 'I've got something people need to hear.' I didn't know if it would be hugely successful or just get some airplay. I thought somehow I'd eke out a living a living before it was over."

He had a country bent at a young age. His maternal grandfather, Warren Jarvis, handed Paisley his first guitar at age eight. "We fiddled around with him anyway before that. He had a few guitars and was a guitar player himself. I'd sit down and watch him in awe as he played. He always said I needed to do it. 'This boy needs to play the guitar some day.' I had to."

Paisley grew up in Glen Dale, West Va., a stone's throw south of Wheeling near the Ohio border. "Mayberry," says Paisley describing his hometown of just under 2,000 folks. "If you ever watched Andy Griffith, it was that. You'd walk down to the drug store. You'd sit on the swing. Go fishing. The river's right down there. I'd head down there and see if anything was biting. You'd ride your bike to the creek. It was a perfect place to grow up. I could always go out the back door and say I'd be back. There were no worries. There were no abductions. No fear of anything."

Paisley took guitar lessons, but learned more from his grandfather and a teacher, Clarence "Hank" (he sounds like Hank Garland when he plays, according to Paisley) Goddard.

The youngster advanced to the point where he was able to play the Wheeling Jamboree from the time he was 12.

"Anybody needed (someone) to sit and pick, that was me, whether it be a mother-daughter dinner at the church for Mother's Day or who knows? I played everything you could think of."

Paisley attended West Liberty State, but was itching to go to Nashville and transferred to Belmont, well known for its music business program. That's where he meet Rogers, his producer, and band members.

While there, he started writing songs. In fact, "I Wish You'd Stay" on "Part II" was pitched to EMI Publishing for other artists.

He got a job writing one week after graduating. "I walked the streets of Nashville a good 72 hours," Paisley jokes.

Paisley set his sites on Arista because he liked the artists on the label, including Alan Jackson and Brooks & Dunn.

"More than anything, my songs were being pitched to them. (Several label execs) heard them and were all loving the songs I was writing and approached me almost about the artistry before I could even tell them that's what I wanted to do. It just felt like home when I signed there."

Since then, Paisley has enjoyed a lot of hits from his debut, tours on the Strait Fest and Alan Jackson and membership in the Grand Ole Opry, a place he often plays.

"I listened to the Opry growing up, when it started airing on TV. My grandfather was a huge fan. I would listen to it on Saturday nights (coming home) on a date back from high school or college."

"What a great environment. Now I'm a member, and I can't believe it."

Paisley exhibits little concern about how his new album will do.

"Not really. It seems like it's off to a good start. I'm excited about the timing of everything, the success of the first single so far. If anything, we're looking at a lot of the same people who bought the first album would probably like this. It's not like I went out now and from went from 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' to 'Strawberry Fields.' I haven't changed dramatically in any way. I think it is deeper. It's pretty simple. If they liked the first album, I think they'll like this. It's pretty simple. I'm not really nervous about it. Besides, if it doesn't do well, I'll live."



© Country Standard Time • Jeffrey B. Remz, editor & publisher • countrystandardtime@gmail.com