Marty's Tour Diary

Manhattan, Pittsburgh, Philly, Washington, Charlotte, Greenville, Knoxville, Nashville, Boise, Paducah, Osh Kosh, Atlanta ... towns we visited or played in the last couple of weeks to talk about our new Columbia record, Country Music, that was released July 1.

The Fabulous Superlatives (Kenny Vaughan, guitar; Harry Stinson, drums; Brian Glenn, bass) are all ambassadors-at-large concerning the great congress of country music. They are my brothers in arms. It's been years since a band of this caliber emerged from the gates of "Twangtown." Someone told me "they're not a band, they're weapons."

It was with no less than an atomic swagger that we blasted into the month of July. As mentioned, July 1 marked the release of the new album; on July 3 we shot a video for the single "If There Ain't, There Oughta Be". It was directed by Traci Goudie. Miss Goudie is an Austin-based video director. I first saw her work on CMT. It was a video she did with Patti Griffith entitled "Chief." She's fearless with color and the use of her imagination. I felt I would enjoy working with her -- and I did. She's a visual genius. The "If There Ain't, There Oughta Be" video features Marty Stuart and his sharp-dressed Superlatives. With cameos by the most beautiful Connie Smith; the king of country music Leroy Troy and his diamond swordfish; the most versatile man in country music Mr. Willis Wade, a man who attracts money wherever he goes; and "Father" Roberto Bianco, the romantic voice of our time. Plenty of beauty and characters included, rounding out a superlatively written song. I think I heard it will debut on CMT sometime in late-July.

Happy Fourth of July!

We are a happy bus. The Superlatives, along with the "Mighty Fine Crew" -- Les Banks, Randy Mitchell, Ebenezer Powell III (no relation to Thurston Howell III)-- and under the interstate engineering abilities of Tony Cline, embarked on the adventure of the summer -- The Electric Barnyard Festival. With a warm-up stop at the first annual Merle Haggard UFO Convention and Flying Saucer Festival in Roswell, New Mexico.

After the last few days of such intense work, having 1,200 miles to ride cross-country in the bus sounds like a good thing to me. Busses have always been my magic carpets. They take me to my dreams; so much of my life has been spent on busses. I love home, but I have to admit my love for the road. A great band, new music, another chance to make a difference, are all the reasons I need to want to hit the pavement. One of the things that makes me more agreeable to leave home this time is getting to work with Connie. Along with Merle and the Old Crow Medicine Show, we will be working with Connie and her band on the first leg of the Barnyard Festival. One of the questions I'm most asked is "Do you and Connie tour together?" The answer is "hardly ever." I'm honored to be working with her.

We spent the Fourth of July traveling, listening to music and watching old country music shows. We also watched Willie Nelson and Friends television special. The Superlatives whole-heartedly endorse the performance of Willie, Keith Richards, Hank III and Ryan Adams doing the Stones' classic "Dead Flowers." Our "coolest new star in the world" award goes to Norah Jones. She is Superlative. Her performance on Willie's show was wonderful.

Top Cat, Tony Cline, interstate engineer to the stars, called me up to the cockpit in the late hours of the night and had me listen to "If There Ain't, There Oughta Be" on the radio. It sounded so good. It was a beautiful gift to hear our music coming across the airwaves of the nation. If you haven't heard about XM Radio, go see about it today. It's the past, present and future of radio. Any kind of music you want, 24 hours a day, commercial-free and clear as a bell coast to coast. We have it on our bus.

If there were any flying saucers following us out to Roswell to meet Merle, I wonder if they could see at the end of the day how happy I was to be out and about in the land of the free.

I wonder if they know what an ambitious project the Electric Barnyard Festival is?

I conceived the idea a little over a year ago. Since then it's been a full-time job for lots of people in various ways. I'll admit I'm nervous about it. We haven't had a chance to rehearse with the entire cast. We haven't physically laid eyes on the traveling amphitheater. The promoters are nervous. But somehow, in the midst of it all, I rest assured.

As I lay me down to sleep, I feel like I'm involved in an Old Testament story. One that goes ... Man has vision, feels a divine call and trusts God to bring it to pass. Circumstance by circumstance over the past months, God has been faithful at supplying me with an inner peace, new music, great band, opportunities, a fresh team, a record label, a concept for a tour, corporate sponsorship, tour mates, a burning passion for true country music and the mission of taking it back to the people of the land. I'm now at the brink -- the setting is the desert. Tomorrow morning I'll wake up in the middle of New Mexico, last stop on the way to the desert. It's burning out there. It's hot and dry. We're going to have to rely on divine guidance and favor.

I'm reading a book called Abraham. There's a paragraph in it that reads, "The Bible is constantly sending people into the desert for redemption, because it's there away from the ease of settled life, far-removed from ready water. They turn to God for subsidence. The God of Genesis wants to be the water of life for his people."

Country music is a divine matter to me. Once again, here I go following my heart and trusting God.

Merle Haggard is the most qualified person I know to bring aliens and country music together. I wouldn't have missed this first annual event. I imagine it will be "out of this world."

The Superlatives and me had breakfast at a wonderful mom & pop Mexican restaurant in downtown Roswell. Huevos Rancheros, unattainable in the south, kick-started our day. I knew we were in the right place. The sign in the window said "Aliens Welcome." We felt right at home.

After breakfast, we attended the "Out of This World Costume Contest" and parade at the fairgrounds. We witnessed aliens from all walks of life. Lots of different planets were represented. One alien woman tried to abduct Cousin Kenny Vaughan. Thank God their planets didn't line up. He told her, "Baby, it's just not in the stars for us."

We rescued him just in time to make it over to the UFO Independent Music Festival. We especially enjoyed "The Little Green Men." Best song: "Big Chrome Engine."

The setting for our concert was the rodeo grounds. Lots of dust, 102 degrees -- of course, "it was a dry heat." There were several glitches along the way during the course of setting up the sound, lights, etc. -- but it didn't seem to matter.

Merle arrived around 2 p.m. to sound check. He set one boot on stage and did an about face. Too hot for Hag. I went over to his bus to say hello. He had a jam session going on with Freddy Powers and a guitar player named Django. I called for my mandolin and joined in.

We played and sang for almost two hours. In the middle of the New Mexico dust, I loved having Merle sing the old Jimmie Rodgers song, "Whipping That Old T.B." That made my day.

Les Banks came and pulled me away for sound check. It felt like a thousand degrees. We rehearsed the old Byrd's song, "Mr. Spaceman." It seemed like a proper song for this occasion. At the close of sound check, I declared us "the hottest band in country music."

I never get tired of hearing Merle. It's always a lesson. During his set, I found me a private spot at the edge of the stage. I thought of what Bob Dylan said as I watched, "If you want to learn, you've got to sit close to the teacher." I left tears in the dust when he sang "Sing Me Back Home." It was beautiful. Pure country music, under the quarter moon and stars, touching the hearts of people who hadn't had a show come to their town since the 1950s. The same town where 56 years ago today, while serving his time in a Roswell jail, Lefty Frizzell wrote "I Love You a Thousand Ways." And at the end of the evening, I rode back to the hotel with Hag. We finished off the day talking about how great Dolly Parton is.

And then I left this old world "with a satisfied mind."

I woke up with Muddy Waters on my mind. I started singing "Everything Gonna Be Alright This Morning. Well, well, well."

First call of the day came from my road manager, lovely Les Banks. "Merle's crew is going to be late for soundcheck. The brakes caught fire on their bus in the desert last night, but everybody's safe." This tour is reminiscent of the big top coming to town; so many people, variable components, lots of moving parts. I first laid eyes on the Electric Barnyard Festival today at noon. It was like driving into a dream. The setting was the Arizona mountains, a perfect blue sky, the festival grounds surrounded by palm trees, six tractor trailers circled the stage, French festival tents. It was the perfect atmosphere for a night of country music.

Connie and I walked around and quietly took it all in. The most amazing part of it all to me is, for months, this tour has been planned and worked on daily by so many people, most of whom have never met. Somehow, on the day of the show, it stands before me, a near perfect vision.

New on the scene, "Sam the merch man." The Superlatives have a new swag-meister. You can buy all of your barnyard needs from Sam. Merle & Marty "Farmer's Blues" T-shirts, Marty sitting on the Cadillac t-shirt, the official Electric Barnyard T-shirts, glow necklaces, caps, 8x10 photos, disposable cameras and of course, the new Columbia CD entitled Country Music. Even in the early afternoon, in the heat of the day, this place still had a feeling about it that it was the setting for good times to come. It reminded me of the guy in Field of Dreams; he built the baseball field under the instructions, "Build it and they will come."

I witnessed the very first customer walk across the field at 3 p.m. One man brought his lawn chair and set it down. That man will probably never know how much I appreciate his business. I checked again an hour or so later and this time hundreds of people were lined up. At 5:45 p.m., I introduced Bobby Pinson. He sang the first song of the Electric Barnyard Festival. Next, the Old Crow Medicine Show took the stage and tore the crowd up. Song by song, they fiddled and sang their way into the hearts of the folks of Cochise County, Arizona.

Connie and her band then performed a brilliant set. Then Merle appeared at the edge of the stage and watched Connie's show. She closed with "How Great Thou Art." As she sang her voice carried out into the sunset and it sailed across the mountains. God must have heard her because for the first time in two hours the afternoon wind stood still.

The Fabulous Superlatives sang "Get Back to the Country" at dusk. We played new songs, old songs, fast songs, slow songs. My favorite of the night, "Rock Island Line" sounded like a thousand miles of ghost train flying off that stage, tearing across the mountains. Runner up, "Farmer's Blues." It was like singing a hymn. It had a worshipful atmosphere about it.

I introduced Merle Haggard and the Strangers at 9:10 p.m. The crowd rose to its feet and welcomed the "Poet of the Common Man". They screamed, cheered and sang the words to his songs for 75 minutes. Connie and I sat and watched and sang along with everybody else.

At 10:15 p.m., Merle and I shook hands on stage and wished everyone a good night. The Electric Barnyard Festival became a fact tonight. Hard to believe, but it happens ... By George.

We cruised into the City of the Fallen Angels listening to the vintage 1960's country sounds of Wynn Stewart. "It's Such a Pretty World Today" sounded pretty as to boulevards of palm trees the lovely people welcomed us to Southern California.

As usual, the first order of business upon arrival in La-La Land, is dump the bus, go directly to Ernie's Taco House on Lankershiem Blvd. in North Hollywood. It's a classic traditional Mexican restaurant introduced to me years ago by Manuel when his shop was in the neighborhood. I have lots of fond memories up and down that street; Manuel's store, Nudie's Rodeo Tailors, the Palamino Club. All of the great cowboy clothes were originally made on Lankershiem Blvd. Most all of those people and places have vanished, but their work will live forever. A lady named Rose Clements who was the undisputed queen of embroidery just passed away. She worked with Nudie and Manuel for years. I miss her presence. There's one place left on Lankershiem Blvd. for great custom clothes -- it's Jaime Custom Tailor. I've known Jaime forever. He's the last great hope of the cowboy tailors. He's made clothes for me, Dwight, Bob Dylan, Porter, Little Jimmy, Buck, Merle and as of today, the Fabulous Superlatives. Harry, Kenny, and Brian all went by Jaime's to be measured for new suits.

Kenny Vaughan likes a place on Ventura Blvd. called King's Western Wear. After we left Jaime's we motored ourselves over to King's. Kenny Vaughan bought some bright white pointed-toe, slanted-heel cowboy boots, complete with matching belt. I bought a C-O-W-B-O-Y Hat. We left King's, still feeling the effects of Ernie's Taco House and the UFO Convention from a couple of days back and somehow wound up under the H-O-L-L-Y-W-O-O-D sign where Connie Smith served as camera operator. I called my pal Faye Dunaway and asked her for directions home.

As we motorized toward the big-time hotel, we all agreed that the clothes Jaime made for ZZ Top were cool, but the turquoise rhinestone suit that he made for Chris Isaac won the superlative prize.

As the H-O-L-L-Y-W-O-O-D sign faded out of view in my rearview mirror, it occurred to me that Hollywood ain't nothing but a snazzy Electric Barnyard its own self. With that in mind, I kindly tip my new C-O-W-B-O-Y Hat to the memory of Buddy Ebsen. So long, Jed Clampett. Ya'll come back now, ya' hear?

Here's a song for the working man ...

The concept for the Electric Barnyard tour is to take traditional country music back to the people that supported it and gave it a grassroots following long before it ever had mass appeal around the world. So many people that love this kind of country music don't get shows in their towns anymore. I'm enjoying going out during the day and especially after the concert and talking to people -- farmers, fireman, factory workers, construction workers -- just to name a few of the occupations of some people that have come to see us play.

I'm proud that we have a world-class show to present at an affordable price; $25.00 will buy you an evening to remember for the rest of your life. I've watched the show twice now. It touches me way down deep in my heart to hear all of these great songs. So many different kinds of authentic country music is being played.

Today was a special day for me -- Connie and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary. Time flies when you're in love; it was so good to be with her today. It usually works out that one of us is on the road on special occasions. Just being together is sometimes the greatest gift of all.

Our friends Fred and Mary Willard came out to see us. Fred Willard is one of my favorite actors. If you haven't seen him in Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show or A Mighty Wind, do yourself a favor and go check him out.

As the lady who rode the mechanical bull in the parking lot said, "This is a great show." No Bull.

Media Boy, reporting here. A 7 a.m. wake-up call started my day. Ace journalist Tom Roland, along with jumpin' Jon Conlon (Columbia Records), and myself, drove from North Hollywood, California to Tulare. Along the way, we stopped at radio stations to talk about the new album, Country Music and the Electric Barnyard Festival.

We stopped at Buck Owens' station, KUZZ, in beautiful downtown Bakersfield, California Buck didn't show up, but his new car did! It's beautiful. I think Buck Owens will look splendid driving through the streets of Bakersfield in his new Pinto station wagon!

The Electric Barnyard Festival played tonight in Tulare. I couldn't help but think of Merle's song, "Tulare Dust," as we pulled into town. The closer we got to the festival site, my heart soared, and I kept sayin' over and over, "This is the kind of place I had in mind for the Electric Barnyard Festival."

When I was young, first listening to Merle, I heard him sing songs like "Mama Tried," "They're Tearing the Labor Camps Down" and "Mama's Hungry Eyes," and when he sang, I could see the people he sang about. I loved them before I ever met them. I related to them, because the difficulties and the struggles he reported were the same ones that I knew and understood from the world I came from. I had a feeling that tonight we'd be playing for these kinds of people, and these kinds of people's children. In 106-degree heat, they came -- the kind of people who would understand what true country music is all about, people of the land. I loved lookin' into their faces as everybody on the show performed. The thing that touched me the most is how intently they listened to the words of each and every song, not just the older people, but the young people, as well.

The Superlative award for Song of the Night goes to "Where Is My Castle," by Connie Smith and her orchestra, honorable mention going to "Garbage Man," which is -- I think -- a new Haggard song. I sang "Hobo's Prayer," a song that felt like it was written for this occasion. Like the song says, "Everything out here ain't what it seems, when I'm down to nothin', I just go ahead and dream, and face the fact that I'm a circle in a world full of squares, tradin' sorrows for tomorrows, and that's the Hobo's Prayer."

See you tomorrow!

Like a summer storm we moved quickly through the night and descended on the beautiful California town of Dixon. I loved its small town feeling. I get the impression that this place has seen its share of palm trees come and go. I wish I could take some of these palm trees home with me. They are so majestic. They keep mystical secrets deep inside. I have a thing about palm trees -- just ask my band. I spotted a 9-foot tall palm in New York City when I played there last month. I had to have it. It was on tour with us in the back lounge of the bus for two days. It now lives in my house -- I named it Manhattan. Let's here it for the palms!

This day began as another radio-thon. Jumping Jon Conlon and Ace Roland started with me early this morning making the radio rounds. I feel like a politician going from town to town saying vote for "If There Ain't, There Oughta Be." However, making these in-person calls and shaking hands with people along the way is alright by me. I've said it before -- I can't figure country music out by sitting in Nashville. I have to get out among the people. Good, bad or indifferent, they let you know what's on their minds. That's one of the reasons I go out and sign autographs at the merchandise tent after the Barnyard show. The Electric Barnyard Festival is a work in progress. I love the feedback and the fan's perspective.

The Federal Express man must have heard enough feedback from lovely Lester Banks after he'd lost a big important package of ours. It contained video tapes. One was the Inside Fame show that premieres on CMT Saturday night (July 12), and a copy of our new video, "If There Ain't, There Oughta Be." When they finally arrived we gathered around the ol' air conditioner in our Hillbilly Bus and watched them. We all agree that both shows were superlative. The video pops like a firecracker. Traci Goudie did a fabulous job. Inside Fame and Shame offers an honest account of my life good or bad.

The show tonight had some Friday night mojo on it. I've always believed that country music sounds better on Friday and Saturday night than any other night of the week. Especially after working hard all week long and putting up with whatever comes your way. Whether it's trouble at home, hard times in the mailbox, too much month at the end of the money -- when the blues get you down, when your heart is broken, when you feel trapped, unloved, under-appreciated, crossed up, mad or just sick of the sorriness in the world, you need to come see Merle and Marty, Connie and the Old Crow boys. We've got the songs to make you forget your troubles: drinking songs, cheating songs, hoedowns, breakdowns, big songs, little songs, rambling songs, love songs and gospel songs. There's something for everybody at this show. I told someone that when I wake up in the morning after a Barnyard show and think back on the music of the last night, it's almost like a dream. It goes down deep in my heart and becomes a precious memory. As the great philosopher Bocephus once said, "I'm just laid up here in a country state of mind." Yodel, boy.

LATER.

... Another breathtaking setting for the Electric Barnyard. On the way to the festival sight, we passed lakes, mountains and beautiful trees. Mount Shasta, in a snow-covered haze, winked at me from time to time along the way. The festival sight today was aemountaintop in the country. It has been cleared for the purpose of building an amphitheatre on site. The groundwork is done; however, at this point there's no building erected. When the day comes, the good people of Klamath Falls will cut the ribbon on their dream. I hope they remember that country music was the first music ever played on their mountain, compliments of the cast of the Electric Barnyard Festival.

I love the pioneer atmosphere of this tour. It's a sidewinder concept. As I wrote early on, it's a wilderness adventure. It's not safe; it's not predictable. It has character, and its cast is filled with characters. But for all of the day-to-day madness that surrounds the dream, the one thing that shines without question is the music. It was so soul-satisfying. Tonight as I listened to Merle sing, "Today I Started Loving You Again," I happened to notice the most beautiful star-filled sky twinkling beneath a perfect full moon. It made me feel as if God was winking at me. It's the kind of moment I wish I could share with the world.

On a Saturday they came -- trucks and busses full of people in cowboy clothes, singing songs about trains, love, God and country. Songs of the people, by the people -- for the folks of the land. The air was serene, and a perfect breeze carried the cry of a steel guitar across the mountains. The moon and stars were a perfect reflection of the beautiful harmonies that soared into the atmosphere. The report of a fiddle was heard throughout the canyons, and when Connie sang, "How Great Thou Art," I know the Almighty One, the omnipotent One listened because the sound of her voice was so sweet that even the nightbirds hushed their singing.

I went to sound check and a show broke out. Connie and her band were working on a song during the afternoon, when I noticed the Superlatives, the Strangers, Bobby Pinson and the Old Crow boys all gathered around the stage. Merle started it; he just couldn't keep his hands off that guitar. He acted like he was tuning it but I knew better. Somebody said the right thing and he plugged in and started playing with Connie's band, and all the groups moved in closer to witness the magic. Two of the greatest voices ever heard in country music playing and singing their hearts out just for the love of it. Bobby Pinson said, "This is what I've been waiting for -- they're doing it for themselves." "That's the Way Love Goes" and "The Key's in the Mailbox" had us moving. It was a priceless performance.

Bobby Pinson came up to me during dinner and asked if he could start the show early. He said, "I just feel like singing." That's what inspiration is all about. His heart was full and he needed to share it. Not only have I seen the spirit touch the audience night after night, there's been a revival of sorts backstage among the cast. I'll promise you when this tour is over, every musician will go home inspired and renewed.

I've gone out in the audience during the show to watch and listen almost every night. I've really enjoyed getting one on one time with people. No other form of music can claim the kind of relationship that country performers share with their fans. It's almost a family thing. Several people have come to see us that have loved ones in Iraq. I met a lady tonight that has been given a matter of days to live, but she MADE her son bring her to hear the music. I met a lady tonight whose son is in prison and she just needed to talk. I met a boy who brought his girlfriend to the show. He told me that he's trying to get up the courage to ask her to marry him. I saw him again after the show and he said he thought he'd ask her on the way home. I met a waitress with five kids who has been married for fourteen years. Her husband beats her up. She said she finally got around to leaving. She's stepping up to be counted among the living once again. Our concert was her first outing in her newfound life. I loved watching a lady who's been listening to Connie sing since 1964 finally get to see her in person. She cried.

When I first dreamed up this tour, I called Dolly Parton and told her what I had in mind. I remember saying, "If you tell me I'm crazy, I'm going to do it anyway." She said, "You have to do it; it's a ministry." I've thought about her words along the way as I've heard true life stories come from the hearts of the people.

It was requested that the entire fleet of trucks and busses leave tonight in a caravan so it could be documented on film. It was arranged for departure to occur at 1:30 a.m. Behind a blue light escort, tons of country music steel proceeded to the edge of town. Connie and I rode ahead of the troupe along with Harry Stinson and an officer from the sheriff's department in order for the camera to be set to film the troupe when it passed. We stopped along the side of the road next to a field at the outer edge of Walla Walla where Connie and I got out. I held her hand and waited for the rumble I could hear from a half mile away to pass. I saw blue lights flash, and then I felt the power of ten magic carpets blow by me.

As I stood under God's full moon, holding the hand of the girl I love, I couldn't help but think of a time in Mississippi when I was a kid. There was a country music show held in our town. I knew that the bus carrying the performers would have to come by our house to get to the auditorium. I sat next to the road all day long because I didn't want to miss seeing it. I watched the bus roll in from a distance. As it passed, I felt like a little magic touched me. Something called out to me and I wanted to get on and ride. Tonight that feeling came around again. Dream on, Pilgrim, dream on.

When I arrived at the venue today, I couldn't help but remember an incident that happened here a few years ago. I wrote about it on the liner notes of the Marty Party Hit Pack CD. I was booked at the state fair. After soundcheck, I took a walk to have a look around. I met a gypsy lady who was operating a fortune-teller parlor. I've never had my fortune told, and I haven't since, but that day I stepped up, handed the lady my money and stuck out my hand. She looked at my hand and gave me my money back. She told me the job was too big for her to handle. That kind of freaked me out. Looking back, I see more of what she was talking about.

This is the last night of the first leg of the Barnyard tour. As it goes with most touring casts, it fast becomes like family. There was a sense of family backstage today, lots of hanging out. Merle came by my bus, and we watched a hokey old country music film called Road to Nashville. Bad plot, good music. We were knocked out by Marty Robbins singing "Begging for You." We swapped two movies worth of war stories, songs, feasted on burritos and then decided to call Faye Dunaway. We both love Faye. I've nicked named her "Miss Faye Don-it-her-way." I think she's one of America's greatest actresses. Merle compares her to Hank Williams.

God sent us a cloud cover to cool down the 102-heat index. A warm Colorado wind blew throughout the evening. It made "Long Black Veil" even more mystical. The Song of the Night for me was "Farmer's Blues."

Merle came out in the middle of the song and sang his heart out. "Sometimes I hang my head and cry, when that evening train goes by, wish it could take me far away from these Farmer's Blues." That song is one my most favorite moments on my new album. We're planning on filming a video for "Farmer's Blues" when we resume in August.

Speaking of moments, the finale of tonight's show was a true "country music" moment. All of the cast assembled on stage and sang "Okie From Muskogee" with Hag. At the end of the song, Merle left the stage. I decided it wasn't over, so I started the band into "Brain Cloudy Blues." He reappeared; we jammed on in the key of F. F as in Fabulously Superlative Tour -- the kind of tour where God was tapping his foot, singing along with the angels in Hillbilly Heaven. The past, present and future of country music collided, and it was good. It was a mighty matter, The Electric Barnyard Dream.

And then the parking lot emptied. A yard cat prowled the arena surveying smashed cups and popcorn boxes. The T-shirts and 8 x 10s went back into boxes. The tattooed girls gave up and went home alone. The performers took off their cowboy clothes, got in their busses and slipped away into the darkness.

See you in August.