Joy (2001)

Willie states in the liner notes to this 2001 album that his record company has “ten great CDs.” This set includes one song from each of those ten CDs, but he never tells us the names of those ten albums or even the name of the record company, unless it is FFE (Free Falls Entertainment) or Pedernales Records. Willie also states that this compilation features “a combination of jazz, pop, and early cowgirl, laced with country troubadour and rock.” I’m not sure what early cowgirl or country troubadour is, but I’m not surprised Willie is mixed up with them all. Only four tracks feature Willie.

“Sweet Georgia Brown” is an instrumental track that also appears on “Night and Day,” but I prefer the longer version on “Night and Day.” I have not heard the standard “It’s Magic” on any of Willie’s other albums, but Willie appears with Don Cherry on another album. Willie’s vocals are strong, but the syrupy strings don’t do much for me. “The Gypsy” may be the best Willie track on this album, and it also appears on “Night and Day” (but this version contains vocals). This is a “Stardust”-quality vocal performance and worth owning. The spare backing is refreshing. Just piano, light drums, bass, and guitar. The lyrics (written in 1945 by Billy Reid) sum up so many of Willie’s most prominent themes:

In a quaint caravan there's a lady they call the gypsy.

She can look in the future and drive away all your fears.

Everything will go right if you'll only believe the gypsy.

She could tell at a glance that my heart was so full of tears.

She looked in my hand and told me my lover was always true,

And yet in my heart I knew dear somebody else was kissing you.

But I'll go there again cause I want to believe the gypsy

That my lover is true and will come back to me someday.

First, you have the character of the gypsy, nomadic, wandering, always on the road, up to mischief, a troubadour, a bit of an outlaw. Of course Willie would relate to this figure. Of course, he is this figure. We also have the notion of wanting to believe love will last, wanting to believe that lovers don’t lie, wanting to believe that gypsies will not gyp you. It seems utterly foolish on its face, and yet there it is. Willie rejects the notion that you should be careful about your friends (he sings, “It Ain’t Necessarily So”). He rejects the notion that you should be cynical about love and gypsies. As Paul would say, “Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated?” (1 Corinthians 6:7). Tears, of course, are here. But the image of a heart full of tears is an interesting way to put it. Willie manages to be optimistic and pessimistic at the same time. He manages to be hopeful and hopeless simultaneously. Faithful and fatalistic. Candide and Martin. Who else can pull this off and still seem to make a kind of sense, a kind of synthesis, a kind of harmony, if you will. “I’m Just an Old Chunk of Coal,” written by Billy Joe Shaver, hasn’t showed up on any of the 80 or so Willie albums I have collected thus far, so it’s worth having on this compilation till I can track down the original. Sifting through Willie’s CDs is like mining for gold. You never know what you’ll find on an obscure compilation that can’t be found anywhere else. I wouldn’t put it past him to do this on purpose just to make it interesting for his fans. “I’m Just an Old Chunk of Coal” also combines that confessional, self-deprecating honesty with a gospel kind of optimism and hopefulness: “but I’m gonna be a diamond someday…I’m gonna be the cotton pickin’ rage of the age.” Does he really believe this? Does he really believe it? Or is his tongue in his cheek? You’re never quite sure with Willie.