Last Update: April 2, 2002
Playing With The Big Boys
During the course of my career, I have had the honor (or dishonor) to play with some pretty impressive folks. Probably the biggest names came while I was a member of Saddle Boogie.
Saddle Boogie was Chris LeDoux’s road band. Chris was known as the singing cowboy and had at one time won the National Bull Riding Championship. He was a heck of a nice guy, as I recall, but in retrospect, I’m not sure that he knew that much about music. He always seemed a bit lost when on stage with us.
The first gig I had with Saddle Boogie was with LeDoux as the opening act for the Bellamy Brothers.
This was uncharted territory for me. When I arrived to pack my pedal steel, guitar, amp and other hardware into the auditorium, two guys ran out and carried it all for me. They asked where I wanted it and would have set it up if I had allowed it. I preferred to set it up myself.
While setting up, the Bellamy Brothers’ band showed up and the roadies did all their carrying for them. I met Danny Black (I think), the pedal steel player, and spent a lot of time talking to him before the show. He was a really nice guy and even showed me a couple of things on the steel. I had my Magnatone Lap steel with me because I still used it a lot while I was improving on pedal steel.
I was amazed to find out that I was making $250 for playing the job and he was making $150. Of course, he did it four times a week and I did it four times a year.
I had the dubious honor of hitting the first licks on the pedal steel for LeDoux’s segment of the show. I blew it bad. No timing. No accuracy. No place to hide. I did get to redeem myself midway through the song when I got to do the lick over again, but I’ll always remember the honker that started my Saddle Boogie musical career.
One thing I most remember about the night was the incredible amount of power the PA had. When I started playing, I felt the power level come up from the main speakers to a level that I thought might kill anyone within 20 feet of them. It was awesome. The other thing I recall is the heat of that spotlight on my opening lick. I had 5,000 watts of lighting power focused on only me, and I flubbed my intro lick. That light might as well have been the sun and burnt me to a cinder.
One of the most amazing things I ever saw was when we opened for Ernest Tubb and the Texas Troubadours. He was about 82 at the time and when I met him, I was afraid he would die any minute. His security guy had to hold him up back stage and he had no idea where he was. I did talk to him and get him to sign my back stage pass.
While setting up, I got to talk to Lynn Owlsley, the Troubadours’ pedal steel player. He liked my Magnatone lap steel so much that he told me to name my price, but I couldn’t sell it. He told the guitar player that Cousin Jody, the tall, skinny country comedian that hung a lap steel around his neck during his act, would love the string bender gadget on it. Lynn also told me that he designed the stool that so may pedal steel players use nowadays with the different compartments under the seat pad. He told me that one of the compartments is a perfect fit for a bottle of Jack Daniels.
We opened the concert and did a pretty good job. At least I did a much better job than I did at the Bellamy Brothers concert.
When we came off stage, the Troubadours went on without Tubb and did a few songs, maybe four. Then they went into some kind of musical romp and announced the king of Texas music, Ernest Tubb. I thought there was no way this frail old man was going to walk up on that stage without a walker or a wheelchair, but his security guy pointed him to the steps to the stage and he walked right up, grabbed his guitar, and launched into "Walk Across Texas" like he was 30 years old. What happened?
I figure he had been doing his act for so many years that it was now second nature to him. Did he still feel the music? Could he have altered his show? I don’t think so. I think that some unscrupulous promoter was driving Tubb to his death off the natural instincts that Tubb still had. It was sad.
He still sang as well as he ever did. He hit a few bad notes. But he chugged along and did a full set plus an encore.
A very interesting job that Saddle Boogie got was backing up Hank Thompson in Coalville, Utah. Hank was big on country swing. I knew little about country swing or Hank Thompson, but I had heard his name and knew that he’s been around since the 50s.
We arrived at the Coalville auditorium and set up in plenty of time to rehearse the show with him. We all thought we needed that. Well, here we were, completely set up and sound checked and there’s no Hank Thompson. The auditorium is filling up, and it was a nice auditorium too, and no Thompson.
We were sweating bullets by this time. None of us new the material. None of us could even name a Hank Thompson song. I’m having flashbacks to my opening pedal steel lick the first time I played with Saddle Boogie.
Then, about 15 or 20 minutes before show time he drives up. In a beat up Toyota Corolla. He squeezes out of the driver’s door and pulls a huge guitar case out of the passenger door, the back seat is filled with what looks like travel bags and suitcases. Thompson, who was a pretty good sized man, walks up the steps carrying his guitar case, says nothing to no one, and proceeds to walk straight into his dressing room behind the stage.
We wait.
And wait.
After about five minutes, the band elects me to go ask if there’s anything special we should know. I walk over to the door, which is open, and he is sitting with his feet up on the dressing table, guitar case open, and he’s already got half a glass of whiskey in him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Thompson," I say, "but we were wondering if there was anything special we needed to know before we go on."
"I don’t think so," came the reply. "Here’s a song list." He pulls a handful of sheets of paper from out of his guitar case and there is a hand-written song list that has been copied about 200 times. I take five for the band. "Do need any help with any of these songs?" he asks.
Now here’s my problem. I’m a semi-professional musician. I’ve accepted the job of backing up this man who has had hits on the charts. His material should be well known. I don’t want to make him feel that I don’t appreciate his celebrity.
"I’m only familiar with one," I say sheepishly. "Wildwood Flower." The rest we’ll need a little help on.
Hank picks up his guitar, a big Gibson ES-175, and proceeds to pick out a few bars of each song. They are very simple and he tells me there are a couple of changes in this one or that one. He also tells me that we should start the show with a couple of songs of our own and then announce him. I make a couple of notes, say "Thank you" and head back out to the band. I explain it all to them as best I can and I get the distinct feeling that they are no more confident than I am.
We start the show with a couple of punchy numbers and then I announce Thompson, he comes out and plays a set that he has played hundreds of times before. We follow his leads, get our own lead breaks on his queue, and hang on for dear life. In the end, it was a successful show, although I am entirely confident that he had played with far more competent bands.
Since moving to North Carolina in the mid 80s, I haven’t played with many big names, but have played with a few folks of note.
I played with Jesse James (although I know that’s not his real name), a tall, lanky performer who had a minor hit with the song "Nancy" back in the early 60s. I’ve played with Joe Franklin who recently passed away and had a bluesy kind of style. I played once with Bill Phillips, but I don’t know of anything he has done. I played the Smithfield Ham N Yam Festival with John David Coe, a Nashville wannabe who has opened for a lot of folks like Steve Wariner. I’ve played with Regina Leigh who I thought had great potential, but has never gone anywhere. I’ve played with Nancy Short who took second place honors on Star Search in the early 80s. I had a chance in 1983 to jam with Riders in the Sky in Ketchum, Idaho, but I passed on it. I’m a little sad about that one.