"Murder On Music Row" Review
(Billboard, March 11, 2000):
If this isn't country music's dream team, what is? George Strait and Alan Jackson, two saviors of traditional country music in these pop-infused times, have joined forces to record a song that has tongues wagging. Penned by Larry Cordle and Larry Shell, the song was originally released on the current album by Larry Cordle and Lonesome Standard Time. It immediately created a ruckus on Music Row and stirred the passions of traditional country music fans. The well-written lyric charges that someone murdered traditional country music. Such lines as, "The almighty dollar and the lust for worldwide fame slowly killed tradition and for that someone should pay" are serving as a rallying cry for fans of traditional country music and generating tremendous listener response. The song is included on Strait's recently released "Latest Greatest Straitest
Hits" package, and though MCA has yet to issue the cut as a single, that hasn't stopped radio and listener from propelling the tune to No. 47 and Hot Shot Debut status on Billboard's Hot Country Singles & Tracks chart this issue. Musically, it's the kind of song that will make you reach for the nearest cold longneck beer. Lyrically, who can argue with the charges? And as for the performance, Strait and Jackson singing together is the ultimate musical treat for traditional country fans. This is more than a great record. It's a dead-on indictment of what's wrong with the country music industry today. It could just launch a revolution.
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Excerpts From:
That killer country song
By Tom Roland, The Tennessean
published: March 15, 2000
Who's to blame for 'Murder on Music Row'? Songwriter Larry Cordle lays out the evidence.
Larry Cordle had no idea he would create such a furor when he literally wrote a killer
country song. Murder on Music Row. Your basic detective story in which death comes not to an individual but to an entire musical genre. Country music, the song proclaims, is history:
The steel guitars no longer cry And you can't hear fiddles play Drums and rock 'n' roll guitars are mixed up in your face
Cordle co-wrote the song with Larry Shell, adding it to his own bluegrass album, Murder on Music Row, last November as an afterthought. It gained attention on Carl P. Mayfield's radio show but has led to even more chatter since George Strait and Alan Jackson released a duet version on Strait's new album, Latest Greatest Straitest Hits.
It was, the songwriters say, a brave step for Strait and Jackson. After all, they record for major record companies, and record executives, among many others, are implicated as the culprits in the murder. "Don't you think it's because they (Strait and Jackson) can see?" Cordle asks rhetorically. "They're in the industry. It's going to be gone; it's slipping away."
In fact, numerous country records -- by Faith Hill, Shania Twain and Lonestar, for example -- have found their way into pop music in the last year. But, Cordle and Shell lament, those country-branded records are really pop records in disguise.
Those recordings have garnered huge sales. Thus, the labels, hoping to imitate those sales, are naturally looking for more music that imitates that sound. As a result, real, authentic country, with its drinkin' and cheatin' themes and painful instrumentation, may be encountering its own ice age. "I'm not against anybody making money," Shell says, becoming almost evangelical in his demeanor. "We all like to make money, and I would love to see them sell more records. But we cannot trample over tradition. We cannot do that. We cannot destroy what these people worked so hard for back in the 1940s and '50s to establish in this town."
Cordle and Shell have made a statement, event though that wasn't the original intent. Shell suggested the title, Murder on Music Row, during a conversation. The following day, they wrote it in a couple of hours..
Even during the Urban Cowboy period, there were a few banner-wavers for hard country, such as Gene Watson and Moe Bandy. Strait and Jackson, not so ironically, are the modern equivalent, although Cordle also counts Lee Ann Womack and Brad Paisley.
Cordle and Shell hope the current pop trend is just another part of the music's ongoing cycle. Despite the tone of Murder on Music Row, Cordle admits country music isn't quite dead yet. "I don't think it is," he says, with the caveat, "I think it's a heck of a lot closer to being (dead) than it ever has been." If country music does breathe its final breath, it's not just record labels and executives who should pay for the crime, Cordle and Shell insist. "I really think there's a lot of people to blame," Cordle says. "I think the record people are, I think the artists are, I think the creative people are."
It all comes down, he suggests, to Music Row's pursuit of the typical Nashville clone: pretty people singing positive, uptempo love songs, all suited for feel-good videos. "It's a pretty people's world," he assesses. "It's a TV world, and that bodes bad for music. Everybody ain't pretty that can sing and write and play."
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Nashville Sound-Music Row
By JIM PATTERSON
Associated Press Writer
Nashville, TN. (AP)
August 24, 2000
The first time George Strait heard the song "Murder on Music Row," he wasn't supposed to take it seriously. MCA Records head Tony Brown played it for the star as an amusing curiosity.
Strait took it seriously. He recorded the song, which is about Nashville losing touch
with its musical roots, as a duet with Alan Jackson and put it on a hits album. It climbed the country charts to No. 38 with no promotion, or even an official release as a single.
Now, the country music industry, the very industry the song criticizes, has given "Murder on Music Row" two nominations for its prestigious Country Music Association Awards.
"It's the kind of tune that makes an impact," Brown said. "It was a cool event, and we had no idea that people would think it was industry-bashing."
But songwriters Larry Cordle and Larry Shell said their message was clear. Sitting in Shell's office a block from the skyscrapers of Music Row, the duo shouted with evangelical fever.
"We want our country music back, man!" Shell said. "There always comes a time in your life when you have to stand up for something or not be counted. We want to be counted that we are trying to stand up for country music with this song."
The pair believes such artists as Shania Twain, Faith Hill and Lonestar have threatened traditional country music with crossover hits that are pulling Nashville away from some of its musical and lyrical signposts.
Instead of divorce and drinking songs with steel guitars and fiddles, many Nashville
artists now strive to reach younger listeners with pop songs about first love.
From "Murder on Music Row": "The almighty dollar, and the lust for worldwide fame/Slowly killed tradition and for that someone should hang/Oh they all say not guilty but the evidence will show/That murder's been committed down on Music Row."
The version by Strait and Jackson is nominated by the CMA for best vocal collaboration, and Cordle and Shell are nominated for best song. The winners will be revealed Oct. 4 at the Grand Ole Opry House, broadcast live by CBS.
"It should be song of the year, there's no doubt about that," said Ricky Skaggs, a traditional artist who has abandoned mainstream country and gone back to bluegrass.
"I just think it's almost like a mirror that Nashville ought to hold up and look at itself. That is exactly what's happened."
Shell and Cordle credit the nominations to CMA's secret balloting process.
"No one knows you're voting for the song," Shell said. "So consequently, you can't be chastised for your vote."
The duo acknowledges that things aren't quite as dire as the song indicates.
Traditional artists Brad Paisley and Lee Ann Womack are having success, Jackson and Strait soldier on, and the Dixie Chicks have brought banjo back to mainstream country.
Shell came up with the title "Murder on Music Row" and took the idea to Cordle. They finished the song together.
"I thought it'd make a great album title," Cordle said.
So it became the title track of the latest bluegrass album by Cordle and Lonesome Standard, complete with album cover art showing a steel guitar being loaded into a hearse.
"The main thing (Nashville producers) want from songs today is `I love you and you love me 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, and everything's wonderful all the time,'" Cordle said. "That just ain't life."
Shell said good country music digs much deeper.
"No matter how high-tech we get, people still are getting divorced somewhere today. Somebody just lost a loved one that they're grieving over. Somebody just lost his job down at the factory.
"Some ol' boys laid out drunk all night. And some ol' boy went out last night with another woman, not his wife.
"So the thing is, that hasn't changed, and it's not going to. It hasn't changed since the beginning of time. I can still write about it, and guess what? There's a guy or woman out there that can relate to it, if I write it right."
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9/28/2000
He Done It
His song dares to challenge the Nashville money machine. Somehow, though, songwriter Larry Cordle has gotten away with Murder.
By Marty Jones
Murder, he wrote: Larry Cordle has given new life -- and hope -- to the idea that Nashville should return to its roots.
Read about some other anti-Nashville songs.
Each year, the annual Country Music Association awards broadcast holds a few surprises, little drama and zero controversy. Unlike the Grammys or the Academy Awards, where viewers can expect at least a little bit of from-the-podium pontificating on current events or artistic issues, the CMA's are typically safe, self-congratulatory shmoozefests for the Wal-Mart crowd. This year, however, the marathon just might be worth tuning in to. Thanks to Larry Cordle's song, "Murder on Music Row," the 2000 CMA show (set to air Wednesday, October 4) will buzz with a tension that's rare in the land of shlock and faux graciousness. Because Cordle's tune -- a scathing swing at all that's wrong with mainstream country -- has been nominated for CMA Song of the Year. A cover of the song by George Strait and Alan Jackson has also been nominated for Vocal Event of the Year. Considering the song's message, this acclaim is about as unlikely as Ken Starr being invited to Hillary Clinton's Senate victory party.
The tune's elevation to CMA-nominee status -- a development fueled by Strait and Jackson's cover, a few gutsy DJs and countless listener requests -- has hammered a wedge between Music City's major labels and a portion of its audience. The song continues to gain ground months after its release, too. Cordle's full-length CD, Murder on Music Row, has been the top-selling bluegrass record in the country for months. Strait and Jackson's cover of "Murder" recently peaked at number 38 on the Billboard singles charts, making it the highest-charting country album cut in years -- despite MCA's (Strait's label) refusal to promote the song. According to Lon Helton, the country-music editor of trade magazine Radio & Record, the fact that two of country music's heavies are playing Cordle's number has stunned many. "Why would you go on TV," he says they've wondered, "and say, 'Hey, everybody, our product sucks'? There's a wide range of feelings around town about the song itself."
"This song has really created a stir," says Eddie Stubbs, one of the first Nashville DJs to play the song on his shows for WSM/650 AM, the host station for the Grand Ole Opry. "It puts into words what a lot of people around here have felt for a long time." One year since its release, Stubbs says the song remains his most requested tune of his evening show, one he plays every night. "It was an honor to play it when if first came out," says Stubbs, whose playing of "Murder" violated a station-issued mandate that he play no new music on his program, "and it's still an honor to play it. Because it makes a statement."
"Murder" does so in eloquent fashion. Over a stately, old-fashioned country tune highlighted by fiddle, dobro and his own honeyed drawl, Cordle expresses the ache of every fan who yearns for the emotion and reality of yesterday's country music. "Someone killed country music," he sings patiently, "cut out its heart and soul/They got away with murder down on music row." Unlike many of the songs that fit the Nash-bashing genre (see sidebar), Cordle's tune -- which he co-wrote with partner Larry Shell -- makes the point with care and concern instead of pissed-off venom. Not that he pulls any punches, however. "The almighty dollar and the lust for worldwide fame/Slowly killed tradition/And for that someone should hang," Cordle sings before pointing out that "the steel guitar no longer cries/And fiddles barely play/But drums and rock-and-roll guitars/Are mixed up in your face." Before the tune ends, Cordle delivers his ironic point: "Ol' Hank wouldn't have a chance on today's radio/Since they committed murder down on music row." The song is an astounding piece of succinct, heartfelt protest that connects on every level. If Song of the Year awards are doled out for genuine emotion, songsmithing craft and accurate reporting, "Murder" deserves the trophy.
According to Cordle, the tune almost didn't happen. Last summer Shell came up with the title, and the two men fleshed out the song in a few days. At the time, Cordle was in the last stages of recording his current platter (on Shellpoint Records) and decided to record the track after it received huge responses during a couple of his solo performances. When he debuted the song at Nashville's famed Bluebird Cafe, he recalls, "it was like a bomb went off in the place by the time I reached the hook. And those folks don't get excited about much there, because they've heard the best." When mixing his CD, Cordle still wasn't sure about placing the country tune on his bluegrass-flavored record. He eventually did. "I guessed that bluegrass fans would be traditional country fans," he says, "and I guessed correctly. But I had no idea it would strike such a big chord with so many people."
Why has it hit home for many country fans?
"People feel like Nashville has let them down and they have no voice," Cordle says. "Now they feel like we gave them a voice. And if I gotta speak for somebody, that's the folks I'd want to speak for, because I feel the same way. You know, selling a whole bunch of units is great. But I don't feel like you should try and totally wipe out a genre of music simply for bucks."
Cordle has made his share of bucks as a Nashville songwriter. Since arriving in Nashville about eight years ago, he's placed tunes with Trisha Yearwood, Loretta Lynn and Mr. Nashville himself, Garth Brooks, to name a few. He's also released his own recordings and, all told, estimates he's been on about 45 million pressed records. In his early-'90s Garth days, he says, he made "obscene" amounts of money and has been living off those royalties since then.
Along the way, he's come to face-to face with country's various killers. Cordle's list of Nash-villains includes Music City's money-minded corporate culture, full of business types with no appreciation for country music who defer to buck-passing when it comes to decisions on songs and style. Skyrocketing production costs are another enemy, he says, that amp up the need for hits and mean less risk-taking. Some artists are also at fault, in that they are too willing to dilute their craft and credibility (often under great pressure from labels) in pursuit of the million-selling home run. And for the songwriter looking to pitch songs these days, getting them before an artist is virtually impossible.
"Now," Cordle says, "you've got to play it for the A&R person, they gotta like it, they gotta play it for the label head, he's got to play it for the promotion department and the rest of the staff. Then they get the artist in to see if they like it." His own experiences with A&R men have been disturbing. "They're listening to my song reading a magazine," he says, his soft-spoken voice rising with disgust. "And then they fast-forward it before it gets to the end of the first chorus. At the end of that they tell you, 'Yeah, it's a great song. But it's too country.'"
"Murder," however, did reach Strait, through a manager who heard Cordle's version on the radio. According to Cordle and those familiar with the song's history, the executive allegedly played the song for Strait as a joke. The singer didn't find it funny and decided to record and add it to his Latest Greatest Straitest Hits collection at the last minute; Jackson soon signed on to join him on the cut.
Granted, for some country purists and alt-country fans, the "Crazy 'bout a Ford Truck" Jackson and the occasionally sappy Strait are not the proper team for prosecuting country's assassins. "It's insulting that these two men covered this song," says Mike Wall, whose Country Classics show airs on WFOS/FM 88.7 in Chesapeake, Virginia. "These men are the perpetrators of the very crime they're singing about. In espionage circles, they call this a double-cross." But Randy Harrell, president of Shellpoint Records (which released Cordle's CD) thinks the two were the very men for the job. "They're all we've got right now for mainstream country," he says. Cordle agrees. "It was stunning that they recorded it," he says. (Jackson does deserve points for his defiant, if abbreviated, rendering of George Jones's "Choices" at last year's CMA ceremony; the performance was a protest of the show's refusal to let Jones play the song himself in its entirety.)
The song's nomination to this year's CMA awards has once again put the debate over country music's content in the faces of Nashville's players and its audience. As usual, there are dissenting views. Some, like Lon Helton, feel the sentiments of "Murder" aren't shared by many in the country audience. He considers the song a "novelty" that doesn't reflect the majority of country listeners. "I see a lot of research," he says, "and the listeners are not clamoring for those old artists or that old sound. It all goes back to the question of 'What is country music?' And it's whatever country fans think it is. It grows and changes." Others, like Stubbs, see the song's popularity as an indication of fans' desire for change. When Strait came to Nashville recently, he saw ample proof of that argument.
"Alan Jackson walked out on stage and sang ['Murder on Music Row'] with [Strait], and 54,000 people gave them a standing ovation. In Nashville. What does this tell you?"
Stubbs says the real beef for him and his peers is not whether pop country should exist, but why it does so to the exclusion of country's authentic forms. "This is not just about old music," he notes. "It's about substance, whether it's old or new. This song is about substance and the need for more of it. There should be room for it all -- that's what it's about." (Stubbs's revered roots-country show on WSM can be heard each weeknight at wsmonline.com. He also hosts a classic-country show each Saturday from noon to 3 p.m. Eastern time, at wamu.org.)
"It ain't Mutt Lang's fault," Cordle says, referring to Shania Twain's producer and husband, "that the format decided to play all these records that sound like Def Leppard. He could've competed in another arena; he just took the one open to him. Hey, man, he's smart to me. The problem I have with all those kinds of records is, why ain't they competing with Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston and Celine Dion? Because these are pop records, not country records. This town acts like they're embarrassed by what brought them to the dance. They respect their elders here by mouth, but they don't mean it. Hell, we got guys over here that can still tote the mail, that sold a lot of records, that still ain't in the Hall of Fame."
All of which doesn't bode well for "Murder" to win come October 4. "I can't imagine it winning," Cordle says, "but there again, I couldn't imagine it being nominated. Larry and I are both a little shocked. But whether it wins or not, we feel like we've won a victory of some sorts.
"I've been told," Cordle adds conspiratorially, "that MCA had a guy actively calling radio stations and asking them not to play the song."
Of course, the bigger victory Cordle's tune could achieve is to actually spark a change in the practices of Nashville's record execs. Cordle's not expecting that to happen, since it would require "admitting they're wrong. And this town is all about power. It's not about anything else, my friend."
Which means the joy of penning a tune that attempted to shift that power will be tempered by a dose of reality. "I talked to one of my old partners last week -- he's a session player in town," Cordle says. "I asked was he playing on some country records. He said, 'Cord, I'd like to tell you that I am. But the fact is, it's the same tune all day long -- it's just in a different key with a different singer.'
"My daughter is nine years old," he continues, "and she's been around all of this stuff. She sees these guys and girls on CMT and she says, 'Daddy, they're not country, are they?' And I tell her, 'No, not really.' And then she asks, 'Well why is it on CMT?' And all I can says is, 'That's a question I can't answer for you. You'll figure it out as you get older.'"