Yesterday's Wine (1971)

“These are Difficult Times.” “Remember the Good Times.” I think you know where I’m going with this. Time is always on Willie’s mind, and always has been. “Aging with time, like Yesterday’s Wine.” “We’re yesterday’s wine,” on one hand; but on the other hand, yesterday is our wine. We get drunk on yesterday. Yesterday can be intoxicating. Memories can be richer and more meaningful than our present reality. Why is that? The version of “Me and Paul” on this album may be Willie’s best. I may be alone in thinking this, but I prefer Yesterday’s Wine to both Phases and Stages and Shotgun Willie. I love how Willie was restricted to ten tracks on this album so he made tracks 1 and 5 into two-song medleys. “Goin’ Home” is as tender and spare as can be. Willie doesn’t play guitar on this album, and he has a host of studio musicians backing him up, but they are turned down so low you can barely hear them on most of the tracks, especially this last one. I prefer Johnny Gimble on fiddle to the guy on this album. The background to “Summer of Roses” is a bit cloying, but it may be one of Willie’s prettiest vocal performances. Same with “December Day.” In some ways, Willie’s voice may be peaking in 1971. The background just sounds like tracks laid down by studio musicians without much invested in the performance. I wish Willie could have had his road band backing him up on this, or nothing at all. As always, not naked enough. Still, it’s more naked than Phases and Stages and Shotgun Willie. On a totally unrelated note, apparently trumpeter Lester Young recorded a version of “Crazy” on his album Avant Pop. “Rock of ages cleft for me.” A rock’s relationship to time. This whole album is the arc of a man’s life, so time itself becomes the protagonist. “A short time to be with you is better than no time.” “I bring you one springtime with robins.” “I bring you one summer of roses.” “I bring you one autumn of dry leaves.” Willie is bringing her the seasons. Bringing her time itself, or more precisely, the passage of time. “September wine numbed a measure of time.” Numbing time. Anesthetizing time. Sounds like Walker Percy. “As my memories raced back to love’s eager beginning.” Drag racing time. Trying to gun it and outrun time at the next stoplight. A “December Day” is a frozen, distilled moment in time. This album makes the top ten, and I can’t see it being dislodged.