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My guest tonight is a critically aclayed musician whose new album, The Man from Waco Reducs, will be out on May twenty six. Please welcome, Charlie Crockett. Charlie, welcome, Welcome to you.
I've been a big fan for quite some time.
You look great by the way I feel, I feel like I dressed down. You got a cool ass. Hates it being.
A cool musician.
Is it ever exhausting to have to always look impressive? Do you ever want to just Adam Sandlerett and just go cargo shorts?
Well, my girl probably wishes I did that more often. You know.
You are.
You have an amazing story.
I feel like your life is eleven country songs fit into one life right, and part of that story includes New York City. I know you came from Texas, spent some time in New Orleans, but sometime busking in New York City subways?
Is that correct?
You got it?
I apologize if I ever ignored you.
My bad.
If I could go back in time, I'd fix that. But tell me what that going from that experience to what you do now on the road, interacting with the audiences.
What do you learn in a New York City subway.
Well, I looked a little different back then, so I don't think you would have recognized me as the same man. Yeah, I was definitely younger. And actually the first time I ever played in the city, it was about fifteen years back in Central Park. I had hitchhiked up here and I knew a guy from South Florida who these Brazilian guys actually that I grew up with a little bit in Texas, and one of them moved to Florida and he had a buddy that was like up here working somewhere.
He lived in Spanish Harlem, and I hitchicked into town and they offered me a place, him and his lady. They offered me a place on their couch, and they gave me like a week.
And so I just started.
Wandering down around Manhattan and found myself from Central Park there. And I'll spare you all the drama and trials and tribulations of those fifteen years.
But oh good, that's not good for TV.
Yeah, and so, but back in September, the first bridge I ever played underneath in Central Park, I played about one hundred yards from it, just back this last September opening up for Willie Nelson.
So I felt pretty good. It's good.
I feel like there's a motif and a lot of your work about journey, and I think a lot of your songs are about.
Getting from point A to point B.
I think your life seems to have been sort of a journey around different parts in America. It's hard to even categorize some of your music. Would you call it folk Americana country?
Well, you know, I definitely learned how to stand behind my guitar and playing on street corners, working farm parties.
Farm parties. Yeah, I don't even know what those are, Yeah I do. I Yeah, it's a hodown, it's a holdown at a farm.
Yeah.
I guess I could have put it together. There's context clues there.
Yeah. Well, I ended up doing a lot of I ended up doing a lot of.
Physical labor, like in rural areas, especially in the Pacific Northwest.
It's kind of where I learned.
A hitchhike was it was easier to get picked.
Up on the highway.
People are more likely, I guess, to make bad decisions and pick up hitchhikers out there, and uh, and the people that embraced me. To be really honest with you, It was back when you know, ganja was still completely illegal, and uh, I found my way onto those kind of farms.
Uh. You know that's what they meant by big rock Candy Mountain.
Is that what that was about.
That's what they were talking about.
Oh, you're you're You're destroyed all my country illusions. Next thing you're gonna tell me, Willie Nelson is a pot smoke.
Don't don't listen to Whaling Jennings.
Okay, I'm getting.
To Whaland then a lot of your music much feels like you're writing songs up against the clock.
Is that fair to say?
Yeah?
You know, people ask me what my songs are about and usually tell them the same thing, you.
Know, two or three minutes, but then you don't fill them in whatsoever.
Yeah, God damn it. But these people who don't know.
How to make heart, they just comment, And I really need you fill in those holes. On this album, you reference a songwriting credit with another man who came to New York, slept on some couches, found his way in the folks scene back in the sixties. Robert Zimmerman ak Bob Dylan, how does Bob Dylan find his way on your album?
Well, you know, I called Bob up and told him I wanted to finish his song.
And he no, I've never met him before.
Not known for taking many phone calls.
No, No, he definitely ain't picking up the phone to me. But actually what had happened was is I was listening to these tapes of his They're called the Pacas Blues Tapes, and it was from he he scored an old Sam Peckinpah movie back in the early seventies called Pat Garrett Billy the Kid, and he said it was I think it's the only movie you ever kind of scored start to finish. And actually you can listen into those audio
tapes there. It's like a half of it was done in Durango, Mexico, and the rest maybe in La You can hear like after he's.
Done with one of the songs, you're like, this is the last movie I ever worked on.
Whatever.
And anyways, I was listening to those and I heard this song that was about Billy the Kid, Billy the Kid's life, you know, And there's a highway in between Austin and northern New Mexico that I've hitchhiked down, walked down during my truck down, been on my bus, you know, driving up and down for many.
Years where they supposedly Billy.
The Kid is buried, you know, and I think he was dead by the time he was twenty one or twenty two, you know, in America has always been really fascinated with him. And i'd heard it Bob, you know, was fascinated by him, and the story was just really speaking to me.
You know.
It's like, and I'd written, I'd come up with a verse to add to the song, which it's ridiculous to think you can add anything to Dylan's music, but this was a song that he didn't finish. It was like it was like a verse and a half and he never finished it. And even on the record, they're like, what's this song going to be called? Bobby, He's like, oh, this, this one's a Tom Turkey Tom Turkey number two, you know, strange title, but like Tom Turkey's kind of like a
straw man or like a mark man. I think in the Old West is kind of what that would be. And I just came up with this line because I was thinking about it was people around here like to talk about you, and I hope you like the legend you become. I heard it said in Truth or Consequences, you couldn't be a day past twenty one.
And I liked that line, and I think I think.
Bob liked it too, because it's like you get you get enough into the public eye, you know, and you can start feeling like the kid, you know, even if you ain't never you know, held a gun in.
Your you know.
I feel a lot like Billy the Kid all the time.
You know.
Uh, I was afraid I would die early like Billy Get the kid. It was a smoker, right, Is that what got him in the end? My history, My history is spun smoking guns.
Uh.
This the song you're gonna perform for us today. It feels like it's somewhat of a I know, I won't ask you to have to go into it because you're not gonna give me a straight answer, So I appreciate that, but a little.
Bit of a Uh.
It looks at fame, and I I do think in like I said before, I know, something of your music is about journeys, getting to getting to different places.
And you've you've busted.
I know you've got record contracts, You've left record contracts, You've found your own way. How much of it for you? Is it about getting to some final place? Is there is there a success for you that will will let you forgive me to hit your horse and say giddy up, or forgive me?
I am not you know what, I'm going to backtrack that.
He's from Michigan. I'm from Michigan.
Is there is there is a success a landing spot or is it?
Is it a journey for you?
I'm doing I've been doing this rambling piece that they've been working on in a Texas magazine for months. And actually when we were up here in New York with Willy not too far back, this journalist was up here with me and they'd interviewed everybody ever dealt with and uh the.
Business for the most part.
And you know, my first record deal I was discovered on the R train here in Manhattan by a big by the big part of the machine, you know, and.
Uh so on a way not the subway. You're talking about the music machine. Yeah, okay, okay, okay, okay, good.
You know the machine I'm talking about.
I know, okay, the machine, yes.
And uh, the big dogs and uh so in a way, I guess I did beat the game. But you know, the deal that I dreamt of, Like you've heard many times before, it never is what you want it to be. And so anyway, they're doing this big piece on me now, and people know I've been doing a long time.
I've got, you know, thirteen fourteen records.
You know, I've made a habit of telling record executives.
To you know, kiss my behind.
Actually, last time I met up with one here in New York City, he asked me if I'd ever been here before.
You know, I'm thirty nine years old.
I've been here hundreds of times, played on the street here for five years, you know. But I felt like he didn't you know, I think he knew i'd been here. You know, he's just messing with me. But this journalist was saying that. A couple of my old managers, they said, you know, they say, Charlie Man, they all said that you had a plan. They knew where you were going. You know, you knew you were going, You had this grand scheme. But I never I never did.
You know.
The reason that I started playing in public and on street corners in the first place was this was a career of last resort. Hard luck and circumstances put me on street corners.
I wouldn't be in this business if.
I'd had an easy way, and so there was no grand scheme to beat the game. The only the only thing I ever want to do is keep was keep playing.
You know was was?
You know.
I'm not a cowboy.
I'm a cowboy singer, and I just want to keep singing my cowboy songs and they might sound a little different than some of the old boys.
And you're here with us today the.
Red swoll be out I made twenty six.
Welcome to CP Time, the only show that's for the culture. Today we will be discussing country music and black folks, which a lot of people sounds like chetdar cheese on top of sessame chicken. They don't go together, will and if you demanded at a pandemic express, you will be banned for lights anyway. Recently a lot of people have been mesmerized by low nas X. He hit the top of the charts with his country song Old Town Road.
There's been a big debate on whether or not this song was rap a country, but if you ask me, it's country. The song mentions a tractor, and tractors are only in the country. In fact, the only time a rapper talks about John Deere is if he shot somebody named John Deere, and even in that instance, you would call him Jay de Z. I believe the reason that many people are adverse to calling this song country is because they don't think black people can make that type
of music. But if you look at the history books, there's been a long history of blacks in the genre, from the very beginning when Leslie Riddle was discovered in Tennessee in the nineteen twenties, to DeFord Bailey, the first country musician black or white to play the Grand ol Opry. And of course there's my great Royal Wood Junior, who made the smash hit Don't Mind the Mustache featuring Jimmy Lightfield. But nobody did country music bigger than the legendary Charlie Pride.
Charlie Pride put up twenty nine number one singles on the country music charts between nineteen sixty six and nineteen eighty nine. And if you're wondering how black man could be a country music star in the nineteen sixties, it's because talent overcomes racism, and also because most radio listeners didn't realize he used a black man. Charlie Pride must have been putting on that white voice. Black people keep
that voice in their back pocket. I used my white voice when deck collectors called me on the telephone because they give white people extra time. Oh I'm so sorry. I didn't know my bill was due. Oh my goodness. And it's not just black men. The Pointer sisters broke through in country music long before anyone knew them for their R and B hits. Their most memorable of achievements was at the nineteen seventy five Grammys, where they won Best Country and Western Vocal Performance, still to this day,
the only Country Grammy won by black women. Now, some say Beyonce should have won that award for that song Daddy's Lessons, But let's be honest, it seems that the Country Academy was not ready for that jelly. So thank you, Lianas X. You are a reminder that black people are not limited by how they are perceived, and in fact, you've inspired me to enter the world of country music as well. Who they bluefish can't be the only person
out here. Darius Rucker in it Cowboy Troy, I got a little something that I'd like to play for you all, and strum a little note here The tall is a racist. But that's all the time we have for today. I'm going with Junie. This has been cepee time. Remember, we'll fuck the culture. Anybody know how to fix this damn thing?
I gotta give up sex.
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