So, here we are, another year and, not so much another Willie Nelson album, but another Willie Nelson tribute album, seeing him paying respect to another of his old buddies. This time, following discs dedicated to Ray Price, Harlan Howard and Rodney Crowell (astonishingly only six months since the Crowell set!), we have Merle Haggard in the frame.
Of course, the problem for a site like this, is that when Willie loves a song–and he loves a lot of ’em–he sings ’em again and again and again. A cover lover has to be on their guard and make sure that any earlier rendition, by or including him, wasn’t the first outing ever for that song. All but one of these songs have been covered previously by Nelson, frequently alongside Haggard, but my research suggests they had all had their original recording un-Willied, so to speak, all coming from Haggard alone, usually with his band, the Strangers.
Haggard and Nelson had history together, dating at least as far back to the early ’70s, each bit players on the Nevada Casino circuit. Haggard, four years younger, after an early life plagued by insolvency and petty larceny, had hardened his ambition to become a country singer. It was hearing Johnny Cash sing “Folsom Prison Blues,” as a twenty-year-old inmate in San Quentin, that lit his fuse. Nelson, who had already quit Nashville disappointment, was seeking alternative routes to satisfy his muse, with the two bonding and becoming part of the eventual “Outlaw Country” movement. Over the years they frequently appeared together, bolstered by a set of four shared duet albums, between 1983 and 2015, the last only a year before Haggard’s death.
Here the recordings have taken shape over the space of several years, between the myriad other projects that Nelson has forever on the boil. As such there are other old friends to respect; this record contains the last recordings of Nelson’s sister Bobbie and longtime drummer Paul English, who died in 2022 and 2020, respectively. The rest of the musicians are all also familiars of what Nelson calls the Family Band, producing the by now familiar mix of loving looseness, all helmed here by Mickey Raphael’s production, his harmonica a warm presence throughout.
“Workin’ Man Blues,” the near-title track, opens the set and is enormously agreeable. A slick canter through, in Western Swing mode, it is superior, to my ears, to the spiky rockabilly of the 1969 original. Nelson is in relaxed voice, and the piano, electric guitar and harmonica all get a good old gambol about the park, anchored by some solid walking bass. Even Nelson’s old faithful Trigger gets a workout, showing his fingers retain much the nimbleness of yore, and it easy betters the later duet version of 2011. A fine start, even down to the sotto voce statement at the end: “we could fade it out a bit.” Glad that wasn’t then done.
“Silver Wings” was actually the flip of Haggard’s single release of the previous song, and another later covered by the pair of them. The version here differs slightly from each, drawing a little more ennui out of the lyric. It’s easy to see Nelson now addressing the words to his old buddy. Surprisingly, “Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down” fares less well, there having been probably far too many versions of the song since Haggard first wrote and released it back in 1966. Nelson sounds, well, just too damn chipper, as if he’s been on the Corona Cero. It’s pleasant, but needs the more wracked narrative of, say, Gram Parsons.
“Today I Started Loving You Again” is possibly the other gold-plated standard in the set, again making it hard for Nelson to reprise. Actually a co-write between Haggard and Buck Owens, I thought always thought it a much much older song. That said, Nelson nails it, his frail delivery perfect, as big sis Bobbie and Raphael apply some exemplary scaffolding about him. The fifty-plus years since Nelson himself first covered it have built in a far greater sense of poignancy than that first excursion.
“Swinging Doors” is a bit too anodyne to impress alongside some of the other songs. But the delightfully relaxed take uplifts it, not least as, not for the first time on this record, there is a spoken prompt to where Bobbie should strike up with her characteristic tinkle. Likewise “Okie From Muskogee” is a tad lackluster, the song that became Haggard’s calling card, despite being very far from his best. Often taken, like Springsteen’s “Born in the USA,” to be a serious statement of belief, whilst it clearly has to be here, it is still an albatross in the nest. Nelson doesn’t, and indeed, can’t ring true for the words, tongue in cheek or otherwise.
A great clickety clack railroad rhythm runs through “Mama Tried,” with Nelson giving a slightly odd and matter of fact rendition. With north of a hundred alternate versions available, I guess it was an attempt to find something new. The more jocular and avuncular approach, offered by Haggard in his original, and, for that matter, the live duet version with Willie in 2004 would have been preferable. “I Think I’ll Just Stay Here and Drink” falls into the same category as “Swinging Doors,” if without the same sense of laxity to redeem it. In fact, it is the first track that had me consider skipping, the arrangement just too busy for the job required.
“Somewhere Between” restores the balance, with Nelson finding he has just the faltering tone to administer pathos into the simple 4/4 construction. Written by Haggard and Bonnie Owens, Haggard’s wife and Buck Owens’s ex, it’s a relative outlier in the Haggard songbook, with a mere 50 cover versions. Here, it eclipses the pedal steel strewn version Nelson gave it, with Loretta Lynn, in 2013. (Which also, with a start, had me realize that there isn’t even a hint of pedal steel across this new record!)
One of Haggard’s “later” songs, as in one of the few here released later than 1970, ‘If We Make it Through December’, has not had a prior Nelson cover. On the strength of this, either it needs one or needs to be forgotten entirely. Again, the fault isn’t quite so much the song, or even the quality of the performance, more just the company kept, against the other songs. So it is a delight to report that the closer, “Ramblin’ Fever” hits bang on target, reprising the lazy and loose atmosphere that the album opens with. Both lazy and loose are good things here, a song to leave a good feeling and a pleasing taste in the mouth. Bobbie adds another (prompted) solo and Trigger ambles about her play with nonchalant swagger. Lovely stuff, and all the more when you consider the original comes as “late” as 1977.
With any 92-year-old performer, there is always a fear that any release might be their last. For Nelson to leave the stage and not commemorate his friendship with Haggard might have been unthinkable, but the debt of friendship has been paid here, and paid well. Similarly, my respect for Haggard has risen immeasurably, as, I have to confess, I hadn’t realized he had written all these songs, sending me back to scuttle through his back catalog. That always underlines the worth of a good tribute album, and, to be fair, Workin’ Man is a better album, overall, than the Crowell tribute.
This good natured release seems to suggest ol’ Willie ain’t yet ready for his own big gig in the sky. Haggard and all his other old cronies are going to have to wait for him a bit yet. Hell, anyway, as far as I know, he hasn’t yet paid tribute to Waylon!
Workin’ Man tracklisting (all covers of Merle Haggard originals):
1. Workin’ Man Blues
2. Silver Wings
3. Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down
4. Today I Started Loving You Again
5. Swinging Doors
6. Okie From Muskogee
7. Mama Tried
8. I Think I’ll Just Stay Here and Drink
9. Somewhere Between
10. If We Make It Through December
11. Ramblin’ Fever
