Wynn Stewart – Wishful Thinking

Wynn Stewart, supremely talented founding father of the Bakersfield Sound — surely the most important twang trend from outside of Nashville after bluegrass and rockabilly — had become a nearly forgotten historical figure, a Dale Watson salute-to-the-greats stumper question, with out-of-print music almost impossible to hear.

That’s reason enough for the release of this new 10-CD extravaganza from those thoroughly, charmingly completist maniacs at Germany’s Bear Family, which brings Stewart’s many achievements back into circulation. The contents of this box — Stewart’s complete output, released and unreleased, from every label he ever recorded for from the mid-’50s to the mid-’80s, plus Colin Escott’s typically well-researched and well-written 50-page report — begins the process of an overdue reassessment and re-release of his work.

From his very first Los Angeles sessions, circa 1954, Stewart found, led and put together combinations of musicians and songwriters in a community that not only would build the sound he envisioned, but would provide the kick for friends and followers — most notably Buck Owens and Merle Haggard, of course. And that’s not to diminish the role of the producers he worked with, Capitol’s nimble Ken Nelson, in particular.

Stewart’s developing sound only rarely moved into outright rock ‘n’ roll, but responded to rockabilly with a bold, rhythmic, car-radio-friendly hardening of the walking shuffle beat of Ray Price. He had big-time help in delivering it, most notably from Ralph Mooney, the steel guitar innovator who appears on most of these cuts and nearly all of the best ones. Mooney mastered not the long steel solo, but singer/player interactions, and on cuts such as the Challenge Records era “Falling For You”, the two arrive at a Billie Holiday-meets-Lester Young level of melding. Bassist Bobby Austin adds no less to the mix.

Stewart’s output belies the notion that creative twang alternatives can emerge only on the small independent labels, as the most moving of his recordings are from his Capitol and short-lived RCA years. The production values, the availability of musicians and the involved producers mattered — even when he seemed to be marketed less aggressively than others in the same places.

A list of just some of the guitar players who join Stewart on these sides show the level of quality delivered: Skeets McDonald, Joe Maphis, Eddie Cochran, Buck Owens, Hank Garland, Roy Nichols, Merle Haggard, Tommy Collins, Glen Campbell, Jimmy Bryant, Clarence White, Bobby Bare, Harold Bradley and Chip Young. In a previously unreleased, wild ’67 take on “Orange Blossom Special”, Stewart, Bryant, Collins and pianist Robert Jim Pierce deliver a freight train blow-up of an instrumental as memorable as “Buckaroo”.

In his best years, in California, even with the right crew in Nashville, and before a combination of No Show Jones lifestyle and less distinctive material took their toll, Stewart showed himself to be one extraordinary singer — warm, smart, and with more tools to nail a wide range of emotions than his better-known peers.

His range allows him to predict Buck’s enunciation and bluegrass-like highs one moment, and growling Red Simpson or Waylon Jennings-style lows the next — in the same song, or even, as in the remarkable Capitol version of Harlan Howard’s “Above And Beyond”, within the same word. In keeping with the soap opera-like interrelationships of the Bakersfield scene, this set also includes a handful of stunning duets Stewart performed with Howard’s ex-wife Jan; they’re equal to some of the best ’60s male/female duo recordings.

Stewart not only had the great input of writers on the level of his friend Harlan, he also contributed dozens of original songs. A good example of his touching, tough, personal writing approach: The classic heaven-loving hymn “This World Is Not My Home”, originally altogether dubious of physical corporeality on earth, was turned into a tale of the homeless by the political Woody Guthrie (“I Ain’t Got No Home”), but Wynn brought it further “home” with “I Don’t Feel At Home” — in your arms anymore!

For all of the warm and rhythmic likes of his “Wishful Thinking” and “Sing A Sad Song” and “Come On” and “Big City” and “Big, Big Love”, there are also Stewart tunes as witty as Roger Miller’s, and one, “Strings”, which manages to be remarkably warm and witty at once, offering an emotional justification in the lyric for why strings appear on the record.

Stewart’s other key recordings are, of course, here as well — “Loversville”, “Waltz Of The Angels”, “Keeper Of The Key”, and his problematic #1 hit “It’s Such A Pretty World Today”, which may have been the most innocuous song he ever recorded.

By the last discs in this set, the strong new numbers are not very often coming, friendly backup and production is scarcely found, and the results — though many country artists would be pleased to ever attain them — too often fall into a generic middle level of quality and emotion that show a career stranded, perhaps with some reason. A touching coda is a slow, believable, almost broken version of “The Wild Side Of Life”, as a duet with Johnny Paycheck.