Monday, November 20, 2006

Concert Review: Ray Wiley Hubbard

By Ron Dempesmeier

FORT WORTH — Where else but Texas would you hear down-home country and blues in a venue like a Unitarian Church? The Jefferson Freedom Café in Fort Worth is one of several music café's in Texas that present music in a family-friendly atmosphere in acoustically superior buildings of worship, and all for charitable causes. The added bonus is seeing the talented artists in an intimate setting (around 200 attendees max).

This month, the church hosted Oklahoman-born, but Texan resident Ray Wylie Hubbard. He is an original country music outlaw from the 70's who had the (mis)fortune of penning the anthem "Redneck Mother" that was popularized by Jerry Jeff Walker's Lost Gonzo Band on the live in Luckenbach Viva Terlingua album. A case of success coming too fast and too soon, Ray Wylie went through a dark period in his life when alcoholism and gambling consumed his talented soul. However, in the late 80's and early 90's he straightened his lifestyle out, dedicated himself to his muse and has released a series of excellent albums from 1994's Loco Gringo's Lament through this year's Snake Farm.

Before Mr. Hubbard hit the stage, another Ray (Bonneville) got the crowd warmed up with his own bluesy set of self-written material. He fingerpicked three different electric guitars throughout his show (starting out with a sunburst Les Paul Jr. and ending with a Gibson hollow body) through a vintage tube amplifier. Bonneville also played harmonica accompaniment and stomping percussion to most of his laid back, gently rocking songs. His style reminded one of a more vocally mellifluous Bob Dylan or, even closer, a J.J. Cale (famous for writing "After Midnight," "Cocaine" and "They Call Me the Breeze" among others).

A number of Bonneville's performances were songs of the road variety and he apologized for that, but several fans in the audience shouted out requests he honored. He was really happy to oblige since the previous time he played in Fort Worth it was in front of an audience "of about six or seven people." Some of the highlights of Bonneville's set included the half English/half French "Slow Matin", some slide guitar songs like "The July Sun" and "Tip Toe Spider" and the title track of his CD Gust of Wind which was a great lead off song to establish his loping, joyful style for the evening.

Ray Wylie came on stage after a short break and started to regale the audience with both his songs and his storytelling. He has the appearance of a disheveled Warren Zevon and is just as much a raconteur as Warren was! His twangy baritone voice fuels songs about sin, redemption, gambling, love, and other assorted miracles. When Ray Wylie started recovering from his rambling gambling days, he went to a guitar instructor in Austin to hone his technique and he can play with equal facility with a pick, finger style and slide. One of his guitars he played was a rare electrified 1958 Martin D-18E that was his grandfather's. His story on how he finally acquired the guitar from his dying grandparent (". . . he said I was finally old enough and then he sold it to me.") was just one of the funny stories spun this evening.

He did several selections from his latest CDs (Growl, Delirium Tremolos, and Snake Farm), which are in a very gritty, earthy, blues style that only Austin producer Gorf Murlix can get out an artist. After finishing "Rabbit" Hubbard said "How about that band?" which raised a big laugh. He then added "I normally have a band when they only get out on the work-release program on the weekends, but they have to stay in Travis County."

He went back to earlier albums for the pretty "Without Love (We're Just Wastin' Time)" and his attempt at a honky-tonk gospel stylistic merger called "When She Sang Amazing Grace." That was his first sing-along of the evening, which he had to perform since he learned at the Kerrville Folk Music School that the sing-along is usually a highlight since it is an audience bonding process. He never completed his course there.

Before he played "Last Train to Amsterdam" (which a European music critic said could not happen since the trains run 24 hours a day), he had a humorous story about moving to a 4-acre plot of land in Poetry, Texas. He found himself surrounded by goat farmers whom he thought would select him as their leader. When he first moved in, a huge storm knocked out his electricity and he saw a goat head walk by his window (which he assumed was Satan) and then saw a farmer coming up the lane with a chain saw. The goat had walked by on its hind legs and the farmer worked for the electrical co-op and was going to cut down a tree that was leaning against the wires. It was not the most comforting welcome wagon Ray Wylie had ever seen.

He made fun of other songwriter's who said things like "Willie Nelson was telling me just the other day…" or "Waylon thought this was my best song. . ." so he wrote a song called "Name Droppin'" which listed off a lot of locally famous Austin musicians. He dedicated it to deceased percussionist "Mambo John" who he had to pleasure of jamming with on occasion.

When he got to "Rooster" his story was about this annoying animal that his neighbor had that woke him up every morning. He bought it from him and tried to train him to be a "Rock and Roll Rooster" that would only crow at the break of noon. It didn't pan out.

Hubbard kind of mentioned that if he runs out of material, he'd usually go to a barnyard animal for inspiration. He co-wrote a song with Hays Carl called "Chickens" that bespoke of their love for the fried kind and was left unfinished because Hays left and he didn't have anything more to add to it.

"Dust of the Chase" has the imagery of gambling and eventual justice in it. "Three Days Straight" was one of the harder rocking songs he played of the evening.

"Snake Farm" was the second sing along of the evening and has the great chorus: "Snake Farm / It just sounds nasty / Snake Farm / It pretty much is / Snake Farm / It's a reptile house / Snake Farm / Ewwwwwww."

Then Hubbard performed his best known, but most embarrassing (to him), composition: "Redneck Mother." He says he only performs it to audiences he likes and he said the only reason he'll do it was because he went to a Dylan concert and Bob did not perform the one song he wanted to hear: "Masters of War." So in the spirit of giving the audience the "highlight of their lives," he launched into telling the origin, the performance by Jerry Jeff's band and the magical effect it had on red neck country fans throughout the Southwest. . .all the while singing the song! It also had a sing along portion to maximize the audience's enjoyment of the tune. He also mentioned that the two times a year he gets his royalty check for this song, he wasn't quite as embarrassed about it.

After that he launched into the driving "Wanna Rock & Roll" which sounded pretty good, but would have even been better with his whole weekend furloughed band kicking it into gear. He felt like he had "fouled" the church up enough with the last two songs, so he ended his set with the delicate "The Messenger" which had a message of redemption in it.

The audience demanded more, and Ray Wylie came back with Ray Bonneville in tow. They performed the classic "You've Got to Move" by the legendary Reverend Gary Davis. Hubbard played some down and dirty blues licks with Bonneville answering with his most assertive harmonica blowing of the evening. It was a great finish for a fine night of music.

The only thing I would have asked would have been a performance of his great talking blues "A Conversation with the Devil." But we were blessed with a wonderful three hours of music that you don't get to hear often enough.

This story was submitted by a member of the TexasGigs community.

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