A catchy pop number on the new CD, “Big Cars”, speaks directly to that love affair. The featured duet with Dwight Yoakam, “Little Chapel”, is a Mexican-tinged border song penned by Myles for the occasion, about driving to a wedding chapel on the Las Vegas strip. And her new take on “By The Time I Get To Phoenix”, understated and soaked in memories, is, of course, partly a song about driving. “I identify with that one; I’ve been driving cross country, leaving someone,” she says.
It’s easy to apply her characterizations of those beloved power machines to her focus on classic honky-tonk styles. Her songs regularly reflect the sense that cars and music have both blanded out, that the music got too big as the cars got too small. “I ride down the freeway and wonder if that’s a Toyota or a Ford,” she says. “I don’t know anymore; nothing stands out in my mind. And it’s the same with country music radio, too. They all want to sound alike and say pretty much — nothing.”
Her favorite cut fon the new record is “Nashville’s Gone Hollywood”, another entry in the rising genre that jabs the radio establishment for a narrow focus on surfaces. Perhaps Myles’ indictment carries some extra weight, because she’s got the sleek sound and look that they could easily make indistinguishable, in their way — if she were of a mind to let it happen.
That crucial bridge of “Cry Me A River” manages to bring up elements of class and power and a sense of self-worth in a few not-very-country words: “[You] told me love was too plebeian; told me you were through with me — and now you say you love me…”
Between her HighTone and Rounder stints came one of those long gaps that seem to mark Myles’ career: She spent much of the mid-late ’90s in England, where a music-industry boyfriend resided, and in Europe.
“I was introduced to an entirely different music scene there, sort of a paradise for me,” she recalls. “I ended up buying a place in London and I lived there on and off for three years. I would just go over and stay for a few months, and tour all over Europe. I started out playing little bingo parlors and worked my way up to big venues — and I loved it.”
A 1996 release on UK label Demon Records, Sweet Little Dangerous: Live At Bottom Line, captures Heather delivering an upbeat show in London’s Shepherd’s Bush. The cover photo reveals a much tougher-looking young woman, sporting shades and perched on her motorcycle.
“I found Europeans to be far more educated in music,” she says. “I was amazed at how many steel guitar players I’ve met just in Holland, for instance. I still have my place over there. Of course, for the last couple of years I’ve been able to do more shows here in America.”
She signed with Rounder in the late ’90s and began working with producer Michael Dumas, who had engineered her band’s demo for HighTone back at the beginning. Musicians who played regularly with Dwight Yoakam — ace guitarist Pete Anderson, bassist Taras Prodaniuk, and drummer Jim Christie — joined her on some key album cuts and sometimes, when schedules permitted, on the road.
The attention-grabbing 1998 Rounder release Highways & Honky Tonks included the duet with Merle and was backed with videos and tours of indie music halls across the country. Heather delivered full-tilt, rhythmic honky-tonk numbers such as “Broken Heart For Sale” with rising, compelling new authority.
“I was so happy to get back in the studio,” she says. “There had been a gap, and I had these songs ready to go, and I knew it was going to be a honky-tonk record. And we made a lot of headway with that album.”
Sweet Talk & Good Lies, released on June 25, follows another sizable gap between releases, much of which was spent performing, then writing. There was some delay coordinating the schedules of the musicians, the producer, and finally Dwight for that duet, which may yield a new video.
On the new album’s cover, Myles looks almost elegant, eyes closed, pensive. The disc ranges from powered-up honky-tonk to rockabilly to ballads; it swings easily in its lyrics and sounds between vulnerability and toughness. “Musically, I tried to have a well-rounded record,” she says “And, you know, I think that is where I am in my life now. Maybe it comes with age!”
She bought a beach house on the Gulf of Mexico in Tampa, Florida, trading a house in Nashville for the express purpose of getting away from it all — and sailing, which turns out to be a growing passion for Myles now. It’s the opposite of those big power rides — catching the wind, riding with it, working the balance between control and being taken by the elements.
The Julie London song leaves each singer to decide how to nail the final “prove you love me; cry me a river” response in the bridge’s wake. Heather Myles finishes it off as a woman: resolute, calm — and forgiving.
Because of parking limitations in Hoboken, New Jersey, ND contributing editor Barry Mazor does not have big cars.
