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Thinking Strait
May 19, 2017
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Getting my arms around the idea that George Strait is now 65 years old is hard. Nearly impossible, actually. I accept it as fact, because his birthday was this week – and always has been May 18th – but he’s been kind of an ageless, timeless fixture in Country music ever since I can remember. And, I’m proud to admit that I remember his entire career; he’s had a never-ending presence on radio starting with his very first single, “Unwound,” which I played as a current.
Released in April 1981, “Unwound” appeared six months into my career in Country radio – a time of great denial for me. As I’ve chronicled here before, I never listened to Country music growing up, always declaring a strong revulsion for it, and never having endured an entire Country song from start to finish – until my first night on the air at KZLA/Los Angeles in early October 1980. I distinctly remember the first Country record I ever played being Don Williams’ “I Believe In You” – which is ironic, because at that moment, I clearly didn’t believe in Country music – yet here was Don Williams, expressing his belief in me.
But Country music is a funny, engaging, and intoxicating form of music. When forced to listen to it in a soundproof studio for hours at a time, it eventually seeps into your soul, without you ever knowing it. Later in the day, the songs come back to you; suddenly, you’re singing along to an earworm you never could have imagined.
And that’s what was happening about six months into my time at Country radio: I was beginning to actually (gasp!) like it. I was just 21, in what was supposed to be the prime of my rebellious, eff-you stage. You can credit George Strait and “Unwound” for re-routing that course. I was automatically hooked on that tune, from the moment that nine-second intro started, with it’s heavy, thumping beat and signature twangy fiddle, to Strait’s ballsy opening line of “Give me a bottle / Of your very best,” the tone of which seemed to come from the southernmost region of his diaphragm.
But here’s the thing – and why Strait turning 65 this week is so ironic to me: I was just a part-timer when “Unwound” came out, working all kinds of odd shifts and off hours. I had no access to the album or any images of Strait. I, for sure, wasn’t following Country music at that time, outside of the music list provided. So, when I played the song, I created my own image of what the artist looked like. With a heavy, traditional Country sound to “Unwound” – even for 1981 – the composite I sketched in my head for Strait was short and heavy-set; in my mind, he was a dude who definitely had a beer belly, and who was … wait for it … approximately 65 years old.
It wasn’t until we’d been playing the song for weeks that I happened to be in the radio station when the sun was out – and other actual human beings were there – that I happened across the album “Strait Country,” Strait’s debut release, which contains “Unwound.” I was floored seeing that my uber-Country, beer-bellied, double-chinned, redneck hick was, in fact, a young, strapping, damned good looking man. I mean, sometimes – as a man – you have to just set your machismo aside for a minute, take a deep breath, and admit, “That guy is handsome as shit.” Even at 21, I knew that.
I make light of this now, but that moment recalibrated almost everything I previously thought about Country music and the people who made it. “He can’t be much older than me, right?” I thought to myself. “How can a guy that young be a Country artist? What the Hell happening here?” In fact, what was happening – as Humphrey Bogart’s Rick Blaine said to Claude Rains’ Captain Louis Renault in the final line of “Casablanca” – was “The beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Of course, I went on to an adult lifetime of loving this music, more than making up for those first 21 years when I was convinced I despised it. You could call George Strait my gateway artist, I suppose. My next “discovery” was Merle Haggard, who wasn’t young and strapping, but rather – even by then – literally Haggard-looking. A year before Strait debuted with “Unwound,” Haggard released “The Way I Am,” which we were already playing, and which I reluctantly loved, along with the all-out jam, “I Think I’ll Just Stay Here And Drink.”
Strait and Haggard conspired to get me obsessed with traditional Country music over the next two years. Also on “Strait Country” was “If You’re Thinkin’ You Want A Stranger,” the album’s third single. That came out in January 1982 – the same month Haggard released “Big City.” They remain two of my favorite-ever Country songs.
Haggard’s mainstream Country chart success largely leveled off after the mid-80s, but I had begun retracing his musical steps after “Big City,” hoarding his older, earlier stuff. Meanwhile, Strait soared, churning out hits on the way to his eventual 60th #1 milestone a few years ago. His concerts became a “thing,” with women throwing underwear at him, and rushing – ok, sprinting – towards the stage when he’d end the show with – ta-da – “Unwound.”
But Strait never seemed to age. Women of all generation were drawn to him, and I think that’s due largely to his mystique, which was built organically, and innocently, by his lack of accessibility and reluctance to be public about anything. Part of that, he told me in a rare interview about 10 years ago, was due to the 1986 death of his teen-aged daughter, Jenifer, in an automobile accident. Already an extremely private man, he just didn’t want to discuss it, and what parent – or, human being for that matter – couldn’t understand or respect that?
Additionally, as Strait became more successful, he toured less. He played bigger venues but did fewer dates. When he was starting, like many new acts, it was not uncommon for him to work 200-250 dates a year. But when you get to the point when you’re headlining “Strait-Fest” at NFL stadiums, there’s no need for that kind of rigorous schedule. In touring less, Strait created an even greater level of excitement and demand when he did come to a market.
While Strait no longer looks as young as he did on that “Strait Country” album cover, he sure as hell doesn’t look 65 – not to me, anyway. I have talked to women who remain mesmerized by him today. I know one who has always felt that way about Strait. One year, during a show at the Forum in Los Angeles – which, incidentally, also featured Haggard – my wife Lori and I somehow ended up in the seventh row. After Strait’s set, Lori told me Strait continually made eye contact with her and was – she claimed – singing directly to her, and her alone. This, in spite of the other 18,000 or so fans in attendance. I chose not to dispute her on that one; I believe I chose wisely.
All of this is a longer way of wishing George Strait a belated (gulp) 65th birthday. As much as I was in denial about liking Country music in 1981, multiply that by 10, and that’s how much I don’t believe George is, technically, eligible for retirement benefits. I hope he continues not aging much, though what little of it has happened, has occurred gracefully. I’ll always be interested in new Strait music, and I really hope I can see him in Las Vegas soon so I can hear the earlier songs, too. Hey, George: I’m fully invested in your career; whether you know it or not, we’ve been on this ride together.
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