The Troublemaker (1976)—take 2

In “Uncloudy Day” Willie sings of “A home far away…where no storm cloud arrives.” In one way or another, Willie is always singing about home. How great it is, how far away it is, how unattainable, how much he longs for it even (and especially) when he runs away from it. Interestingly, Willie seems to have arrived, in 2010, at that “uncloudy” state of unfettered happiness. And yet, one has to wonder how this squares with Willie’s early angsty honky tonk outlaw songs. The title of this album is “Troublemaker,” and yet every song is about the antithesis of trouble, the redemption of trouble. We begin with an “uncloudy day,” and then look to heaven in “When the Roll is Called Up Yonder,” looking forward, with hope, to the future bliss. This is not looking for bliss and ultimate contentment in the present (which Willie claims to subscribe to at other times—see Outlaw bio) or to the past (where he has often found solace in local memories that linger). From “yonder” to “Whispering Hope” to a “Fountain” of hope to an “unbroken” circle. Uncloudy days and unbroken circles for troublemakers and outlaws. Then a “garden”, a place “Where the soul never dies,” the “sweet bye and bye,” a place to “gather” (as opposed to scattering like outlaws, who by definition head out and do not gather and come together; if they did that, they would be in-laws), “precious memories,” and lastly “amazing grace.” Of course, none of these songs are written by Willie, so he may be constitutionally unable to sustain such unfettered optimism and bliss in an album of his own songs. He has to sing other people’s songs when he seeks this kind of contentment. I wonder what this tells us. “Whispering Hope” impressed me more this time around. “Wait till the darkness is over.” It has a more melancholy optimism. A more honest, realistic hope grounded in genuine struggle and suffering and pain. “Hope is an anchor,” but it is an anchor in a stormy sea. Hope does not calm the seas and clear the skies. It calms your mind and spirit amidst the still very real storms. I wonder if “Redeeming love” really has been Willie’s “theme.” To what degree has he sung “thy power to save”? I really don’t know. I think he has and he hasn’t. “Do you love the hymns they taught you, or are songs of earth your choice?” Now that’s a question to put to Willie’s whole career. “Songs of Earth.” He seems to sing of both with equal vigor. His voice and his lyrics, his life and his manner, are nothing if not earthy. But what of his spiritual side? Can he be both earthy and ethereal? Maybe earthereal? The spare solo title track maintains its status as the best song on this album. “In the Garden” has that more plaintive feel of “Whispering Hope.” It isn’t a shouting hope, but a muted, mournful hope. A hope emerging out of brokenness, not out of triumphant confidence. A hope that springs out of need and dependence. A hope responding to grace. The hope of the truly prodigal son, of the truly repentant. Mickey’s harmonica comes into its own on this nostalgic track. It’s hard to imagine the crying cowboy in a place where there are no “sad farewells” or “tear-dimmed eyes.” No opportunities to cry, no place for time to slip away to. Does this mean nothing is funny or wry in the sky, in the place “where the soul never dies”? “Sweet Bye & Bye” slows it down again. “We shall sing on that beautiful shore the melodious songs of the blessed, and our spirits shall sorrow no more, not a sigh for the blessings of rest.” So does this mean still is indeed still moving? It sounds like still won’t be still moving, and we won’t miss all that moving. We won’t miss the road when we reach the shore. When we “gather at the river,” the shore, the uncloudy day, the unbroken circle, the fountain, the roll call up yonder, we won’t miss all our moving. Willie seems to be asking: How will we feel when our “pilgrimages cease”? “Precious Memories” lingers as one of my two favorite songs on this album. At 7:37, this song lingers literally. “Old home scenes of [his] childhood” race across the “The lonely years,” outrunning even the wheels of the bus on the road. “In the stillness of the midnight, precious sacred scenes unfold” that no amount of running away can prevent. The origami of the mind, once folded, the creases can never be completely removed. “Old times singing…glad times bringing.” This stillness of the midnight, this flooding of memories, the preciousness and sacredness of time and mind and memory, is all very Proustian. Notice how midnight, darkness, is the time of perfect stillness. How could we get such stillness in the light? Don’t we need the darkness in some way? What happens if we completely block it out? If we close our eyes to the darkness? The final four live recordings from 1974 at the Texas Opry House are as good as anything Willie has done. Great fiddle and harmonica. Jazzy and trippy like all the other songs from this concert. 1974 may be one of Willie’s best vintages for musicians, for his voice, for everything about him musically. I love the way these gospel tunes meander like his melancholy medley of Funny/Crazy/Nite Life. There’s just a touch more hope and optimism to these gospel tunes, and great energy in the crowd.