Merle Haggard

What a drag it is getting old. Yes, the Rolling Stones sang that in "Mother's Little Helper," but Merle Haggard implies it with a truer grit in the opening song "Wishing All These Old Things Were New." When Outlaw Country's biggest star has to release new songs on an indie label, chances are they're gonna sound a bit salty.

At this point, Merle Haggard's musical territory is staked out and grazed to the nubbin:
slow, sauntering ballads, up-tempo country boogie, occasionally a little Western swing. No
string sections, no synths, no exclamation marks. Staying clear of the clotted,
market-tested production of the Nashville A-team studio players seems to keep him alive;
still, his recent records, self-produced and made in his own California studio, ha... More >

For decades aesthetes have crowed about the hard-traveling Haggard's all-American musicality without mentioning that he's a cranky bastard who never decides till the moment at hand whether this gig or session is worthy of his high standards. After a long, dispiriting string of releases that gradually devolved from hit-or-miss to cynical, he comes out of nowhere on a punk label to cut one of the very best albums of his very uneven recording career. Although I doubt there's a "Mama Tried" or "Today I Started Loving You Again" here, I'm positive there's no "Valentine" or "Kids Get Lonesome Too," both of which turned my stomach at a 1996 show, and I like or love most of the new songs-including the metanostalgic "Wishing All These Old Things Were New," the Western swing condom commercial "Bareback," and several about how much he loves his fifth wife. Plus sui generis singing that pauses for consecutive Bing Crosby and Johnny Cash tributes, and the sense of time that permeates his equally sui generis Bakersfield swing. What is his deepest belief? That time is to be savored, not possessed. (Grade - A-)