It was somewhere close to 11:30pm, we had been drinking all day and my apartment was full of chicks. Well, let me qualify that for you: the chicks were actually my wife and her four best girl friends. We did in fact drink all day, out on a boat on Sydney harbour....and in a string of bars...and, finally, back in our apartment.
As was the case, and as I am want to do in situations like that one, turned to the stereo.
Usually when I kick-off a late night song splurge, I pour myself a tall glass of Wild Turkey with plenty of ice. The occasion in question though called for something with a little more moxie: The Grievous Angel.
What is the Grievous Angel? It has only two ingredients: Mango Gatorade and Jose Cuervo (your mouth is watering, isn't it?). I only break out this particular libation for creating late night stereo vibrations. It's origins date back to living in Florida, playing my tunes at top volume, hankering for a mood alteration and only having only the two aforementioned ingredients on hand.
Like they say, "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with..."
With drink in hand, I started to pull songs from my vast collection in hopes of turing the girls on to new stuff. Once they were knee deep in a serendipitous sound sampling, I decided to throw 'em a (country) curve: Willie Nelson.
"Willie Nelson?!", they yelled out in unison. "Please don't play Willie Nelson. If you are going to play country, at least put on some Brad Paisley or Keith Urban".
[silence]
After they picked me up from the floor and wiped away the blood that tricked from my ears, I attempted to teach them a lesson about country music.
"Country music," I told them, "comes in four flavours: Willie, Johnny, Waylon and Merle. There is no room in country music for candy-assed cowboys, "guyliner" or GAP ad posers. Just because you sing about your truck, heartache and BBQs doesn't mean you are fucking country singer".
They laughed at me: "What do we want with that craggy ol' country fossil anyhow?"
Surely the drink had gotten to them. They were delirious, crazed from the heat, strung out on hubris...but, they persisted.
"What makes you think Willie Nelson is going to be able to sing anything that'll make us swoon over him? He looks like his horse has been riding him for all these years. He was lucky Julio Iglesias let him sing with him".
Things were getting out of control and really staring to amuse themselves. I had to put a stop to it and there was only one thing left to do...take a deep swig of the Grievous Angel, give the gals a steely look and pull out the big gun: "A Song for You"
Do you know this song? It was written by Leon Russell in 1970. Aside from Willie's version, it was most famously covered by Donnie Hathaway (another personal fave performer of mine). Here is a
wikipedia link for the song if you want to see who else covered it (please, I BEG of you, forget the fact that Michael Buble covered this song...in fact, forget that Michael Buble ever existed).
"Song for You" is a flat out heartache no matter who sings it (aside from "you know who"..."MB"). I love the Willie version best. If you didn't know it before, after listening to his vocal, you know that that his voice is one of the true treasures of American music. It is not just country, it is Country; USA...pilgrims; pioneers; patriots.
For my my money it is one of the best straight vocal performance ever put on record. It is such a clean vocal. It has depth and sincerity and feels like an apology, a love letter and a pleading, yearning request for forgiveness and appreciation. Seriously...I am not overstating this. Really...
The girls decided to give me and Willie one shot to win them over. I played "Song for You" for them. I quieted the room, turned the lights down a bit, moderated the volume to give the vocal the right effect, and I hit play....
Have you ever had a good cry? The ones that make everything right and cause you to laugh out loud? You're not really sure why you are crying, but you feel the need to just emote. Yes? No? Well, this is what the room felt like at the end of that song. The girls that had never heard it (my wife excluded) sat quietly until sniffles and tears gave way to smiles and call-outs to "play it again...in fact, don't stop playing it".
I knew it would work. We played the song over and over again until one by one they started to nod off. I had tried to play other Willie tunes, but it was too late...they had been sweetly seduced by the Redheaded Stranger.
They swooned for Willie.
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You should have a listen to the other two versions I recommend: the original version by Leon Russell (again, he wrote the song) and the incredible, soul-drenched version by Donny Hathaway:
Also, you MUST watch this video of Leon, Willie and Ray Charles do this song on one of Willie's primetime TV "Willie & Friends" specials. Ray was in bad health and there was question if he could make the show. He ended up not only making the show, but stealing it with his performance here.
Watch Willie get lost in Ray's presence as he tries to hold back his own tears. Shit, I just stopped writing to watch it again...son of a bitch choked me right up. Whew. Powerful.
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Post Script:
When these girls flew from the States to visit us in Sydney in 2008, they all stayed at our apartment. Four women visitors, a wife, two dogs and me in one apartment. Can you imagine the shit-fight I would have had trying to get into the ONE bathroom?
I was a bit scared about this..until my wife approached me with one of the best ideas she has EVER come up with. She said, "Would you mind if I just rented you a small hotel room in the city while the girls are here?"
Reason #108 why I love my wife.
Ah the bachelors life...just like riding a bike. I felt like I was in my Boston apartment again: no TV, only beer and water in the fridge and music playing 24-7 (minus all the other stuff...because playing bachelor is much different that actually being one).
Here are some snaps of my (temporary) home-sweet-home.
