What Oklahoma troubadour Ray Wylie Hubbard calls a “little ditty” is country blues at its finest.
On an unseasonably hot September evening in Tennessee, Ray Wylie Hubbard was not showing any signs of slowing down at age 66. The outlaw country legend played a spirited set at The Shed, which is basically a pavilion and stage constructed by the Harley-Davidson dealership next door. He strolled out in his casual manner, sang songs and told stories with an interesting cast of characters backing him, including his son Lucas on lead guitar with a rhythm section of George Reiff and Kyle Schneider.
Around the middle of his set, Ray Wylie was finishing up a story about how dad had been a gambler and a bootlegger when he signaled to the band that he was about to play the next song and said, “Anyhow, Lightnin’ Hopkins and this black crow and Sam Cooke and my family tore around my head for a while, and I came up with this little ditty.”
Right about now, those of you reading this are probably thinking, “Hold on. How does this fellow know it was the middle of his set and who was in the band?” And that’s a reasonable thought. As it turns out, I was in attendance along with my friend Darcy Barricklow. We’d been out trail riding our horses that afternoon and headed down an accident-waiting-to-happen four-lane the locals call “I’llkillyahighway,” which runs from Knoxville to Maryville through Alcoa, a whistle-stop town that was named for the company that has largest aluminum smelting factory in America.
That we arrived early allowed me the chance to stake out a spot right in front of the stage along with all the other staunch fans of Hubbard, whereas Darcy hung out in the back with the folks hootin’ and hollerin’, already a few brews deeper than they needed to be. It was, as they say, a raucous crowd.
Hubbard is the real deal, no bullshit, country rocker, on par with Earle, McMurtry and Parsons. Springtime that year, he had released the first-rate “Grifter’s Hymnal” album and would play several of those songs: ‘Coricidin Bottle’, ‘Mother Blues’, which he introduced by declaring any day when his gratitude exceeds his expectations is a good one, and the one in the classic clip, ‘Count My Blessings.’ Of course, he also played ‘Drunken Poet’s Dream’ and would have had a hard time getting out of town without a long rendition of ‘Snake Farm’ ….. burr, burr, burr, burr.
Hubbard’s hombres live on the wild side. Grifter has got spiritual references as seen from the eyes of a lowdown, gambling, slide guitar playing, raspy old songwriter – ” Mama gimme a nickel and a deck of cards / said go on and play in the backyard / walking down the alley come my uncle Lonnie / said lemme teach ya about 3-card Monty”.
That was some hair-raisin’, spine-tinglin’ boogie, for sure, with son Lucas providing the Lightnin’ sting in 6-string injections. I emailed Hubbard for a comment on playing the venue while he was touring in Colorado. His wife Judy called him and emailed his response. “With stellar sound, top-notch crew and an audience that is rabid and so appreciative, The Shed treats me the way I should be treated everywhere, from the time I roll in, to when the last amp is being loaded in the van. After a righteous crowd has made me love doing what I do, it is joyful.”
His face may be craggy from too many rough miles on the highway, but his eyes still have that twinkle. Just look at that picture above with me and my friend Darcy taken after 90 minutes of Hubbard laying on the groove and grunting and stealing fire from the gods. Like Ray Wylie preaches, I believe I’m gonna count my blessings for having the good fortune to see this Oklahoma poet and troubadour at the top of his game.
