Augusta (1995)

Just found another Willie Nelson friend album.  He recorded this with his long-time golfing buddy Don Cherry in 1995.  I’ve already reviewed Willie’s other collaboration with Don Cherry, “It’s Magic” (2007), but now I come to find there is also a third, “The Eyes of Texas” (2002).  I’ll have to rustle up a copy of that disc in 2011 as I zero in on the hardest to find of Willie’s albums.  I downloaded this off Amazon, so I don’t have any information about the musicians, but it sounds like Willie and Don singing behind a canned background.  What’s interesting about these collaborations is that Don Cherry clearly has a voice that is technically “better” than Willie’s, but Willie’s is more interesting, more memorable.  It’s hard to put a finger on why one voice is more interesting than another. 

“Augusta” is a paean to golf.  Which reminds me that yesterday as I was finishing Willie’s autobiography, it struck me why Willie is so obsessed with games like chess, dominoes, and golf.  For someone that is so “free” spirited in his personal life, he craves the absolute rule-bound nature of games like golf and chess.  It seems that even free spirits crave order and rules.  Interestingly, Willie spends most of his time playing these games, so he actually spends more time within the confines of circumscribed, rule-bound environments than he does being a free spirit.  He may sing and believe Sinatra’s “My Way,” but the thing about chess and golf is that you always do it golf’s way.  You can’t make up rules or break them and do it your way.  And we seem to crave environments where we can’t do it our way, where we don’t have to do it our way.  Willie’s vocals on this track make the cd worth buying, though the background sounds like synthesizer drums and strings.  Willie slows “One for the Road” (track three) way down.  The sax solo sounds canned, but this may be the only place to hear Willie interpret this song in such a mellow, laid-back way.  “When I’m gloomy, you simply gotta listen to me, till it’s talked away.”  I’m pretty sure Willie usually sings this in an upbeat manner (with Leon Russell).  “Red Sails in the Sunset” is another smart song selection for Willie.  It’s amazing that Willie has these hidden gem vocal performances scattered hither and yon on obscure almost-impossible-to-find albums.  So far, Willie has been on every track, which was not the case on “It’s Magic,” where Don Cherry has several solo performances.  I’m wishing Willie had recorded these songs solo with a legit sax player like Sonny Rollins or Joshua Redmon.  I wouldn’t have picked “Try a Little Tenderness” for Willie, but he finds something new in this song.  Unlike “It’s Magic,” I will need to re-visit this album to study Willie’s interpretations of songs that he may not have recorded anywhere else.  “Tangerine” (track six) didn’t do much for me, but Willie’s voice may be near its peak in 1995, so this album is worth owning as a study of Willie’s voice during this time period.  “Love You for Sentimental Reasons” gives further proof to this.  “Prisoner of Love” explores the need to escape love, something Willie has experienced again and again.  Willie sings, “I’m not free…my very life is in her keeping.”  Sounds like Petrarch again.  In his autobiography, Willie calls himself a troubadour, so the connection with Petrarch and the love poets makes sense.  “Tenderly” may be one of the best tracks on this album, closer to Stardust than the others, and it’s all Willie, no Don.  A real treasure that more folks should know about.  Don’s back with “Maybe You’ll Be There” (track ten).  This is the first song so far that doesn’t feature Willie at all.  Willie is also AWOL on “So Rare” (track eleven).  I’d actually like to hear Willie tackle this tune.  The album ends with another solo Don effort, “Don’t Go to Strangers.”  So all in all, it isn’t magic, but it’s better than “It’s Magic,” and despite it’s flaws, it’s worth owning.