George Jones – Live Recordings From the Louisiana Hayride
In a recording career that hit the half-century mark this year, it’s hard to think of George Jones as the “jumpin’ type fella” Louisiana Hayride emcee Horace Logan described while introducing him on June 23, 1956. The “Thumper Jones” rockabilly discs notwithstanding, Jones rarely made his mark as a jumper. Indeed, he’d spend less than a year as a Hayride regular before joining the Opry.
Amid his vast output, live Jones records are rare. It’s understandable given the fact that in his cups, he might perform brilliantly (when he showed up) but was just as likely to be belligerent or sloppy. Epic’s First Time Live! captured a sober 1985 show. A superior 1960s Texas dancehall performance, recorded for release, didn’t appear until Britain’s Ace label issued it in the 1980s.
On the Hayride, Jones, well aware he was going out over KWKH’s 50,000 watts, was largely sober and focused. An energetic rendering of 1956’s “You Gotta Be My Baby”, which was about to be released as a single, reveals presence comparable to the studio version. Three mid-1958 performances capture him breezing through his current hit “Color Of The Blues”, the rollicking “Nothing Can Stop My Loving You”, and “I’m Ragged But I’m Right”, a longtime staple of his repertoire. His February 27, 1960, appearance reflects his continuing vocal evolution through nuanced renditions of “Accidentally On Purpose” (the single hadn’t yet been released), Roger Miller’s “Big Harlan Taylor” (his current release at the time), and his 1957 hit “Don’t Stop The Music”.
One distinction the notes don’t mention: By 1960, the Hayride, its once-vast audience dwindling, was on borrowed time. The weekly show ended that August. For a time, KWKH played Hayride airchecks (the source of this material) in the Saturday night time slot. Thereafter, it occasionally was revived as a wraparound stage and radio show when a name act played in Shreveport. That was the arrangement when Jones appeared on the show in 1968-1969.
The ’68 performances of “White Lightning”, “Things Have Gone To Pieces”, “The Race Is On” and “She Thinks I Still Care” are first-rate. Singing the line in “Pieces” about the baseball crashing through his window, he barely holds his composure after his drummer creates an explosion instead of the expected crash. Surprisingly, “Walk Through This World With Me” and “When The Grass Grows Over Me” from a 1969 appearance are competent, yet rendered almost offhandedly.
Given his demons, Jones was best captured in the studio during much of his career, including the thirteen years covered here. Unless something else materializes, these are among the only extant samples of his unimpaired onstage power during his most pivotal years.