January 25, 2020
When I was first in Nashville in 1974, David Olney, along with Townes Van Zandt, Richard Dobson and the crew that hung out at Bishop’s, was obviously a kindred spirit. Like myself, David was originally from the Northeast–Rhode Island–and I suppose we shared some of that somewhat harsher, slightly cynical outlook on life that set us apart from most southerners. David liked his music raw. He reminded me a lot of Eric Von Schmidt that way. When he had his rock and roll band The X-Rays, it was an all-out, no holds barred affair. Over the years, Olney, along with Pat McLaughlin, Sam Bush and others had been part of The Nashville Jug Band, fronted by an absolutely manic, fabulous character named Ed Dye. One of my crowning moments as a recording engineer had come when I recorded the Jug Band’s album for Rounder. If there ever was one, this was a “live” recording, with people all over the studio singing and playing as if they were on fire. In charge of this menagerie was a lovely, quiet, soft-spoken journalist/guitar player named Tommy Goldsmith. I guess I had gained Tommy’s confidence as a result of that experience, because he called me up one day and asked if I’d be interested in working with him as a co-producer on an album with Dave. Without being aware of it, this was something I had hoped would happen for a long time.
Our approach on this album was sort of a combination of jug band music and country blues. The players included Stephanie Davis, who played the unlikely combination of fiddle and trumpet; the ever funky Mike Henderson on National steel body guitar and mandolin; Pat McLaughlin, also very funky, on his own style of jug band mandolin; Tommy Goldsmith and Dave on acoustic guitars.; and the rock solid combination of Roy Huskey and Kenny Malone on upright bass and drums. Right from the start, David took no prisoners with a southern epic combining General Robert E. Lee and a bad, bad girl named Bama Lou. Maybe southern rock was what they were all fighting for. There were ample helpings of Dave’s sarcastic wit in songs like “Luckiest Man” (“Your life stinks, but my life’s just like a dream”), “Love’s Been Linked To The Blues” (“In case you haven’t heard, I’ll give you the bad news/ Love’s been linked to the blues”). As I had learned years earlier in my own life, a steady stream of sarcasm, no matter how witty, can pall after a while, but underneath that hard shell of David’s was an insistence on the truth and endurance of love as expressed in the lyrics of the title song “Roses.”
The old oak tree began to shudder
But he held his ground like some old soldier
His ancient pride was burnt and shaken
But something deep inside did waken
He raised his limbs just like Moses
And blossomed roses
He blossomed roses
That image still stays with me. That was David Olney.
In the liner notes to that album Townes Van Zandt wrote:
A songwriter myself, I have considered David a benchmark of sorts. Lyrically, contextually. If I can proudly play a new song for him, I can play it for anyone. He has unknowingly helped to keep my standards high.
Thank you, David, and God bless you.
