crazy heart

Someone dear to my heart shot me an email a few days ago sharing some music he's been listening to lately, and a movie he'd seen and liked a lot. The movie, Crazy Heart, is about a old country musician, Bad Blake, truckin' from one hole-in-the-wall gig to another, drinkin' his days away with McClure's straight whiskey until he passes out, wakes and stumbles back out the door to drive his wagon to the next gig, sometimes over 300 miles away. He's bitter with disappointment and lack of enthusiastic support from his agent, and still holds a grudge against a younger musician who he mentored and whose popularity has soared. Bad meets a young reporter who asks some questions he cannot deny tugged at something he buried inside. Thus, the movie moves forward, the human condition transforms, self-realization and sacrifice, and giving in to a little hope and a lot of hard work, Bad becomes good. I won't spoil what transpires. I saw the movie in the theatre late last night, exiting into after-midnight crisp February air and the stars sparkling like the whiskey in Bad's glass. I slept with Ryan Bingham's song "The Weary Kind" echoing in my head, dreamed of a field at mid-afternoon in Oklahoma with tall weeds bending in the wind, and woke with the song still playing:

"And this ain't no place for the weary kind,
And this ain't no place to lose your mind,
And this ain't no place to fall behind.
Pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try."

He mentioned that he'd had the song in his head, too. Knew that the song impressed him in some way. So I looked for more by Ryan Bingham. Turns out, his song written as the theme for Crazy Heart is up for an Oscar this March 2010. Way to go! I found his first album, Dead Horses, out there in blogland, and have it playing now. "Southside of Heaven" and "Don't Wait For Me" are favorites that still resonate -- lyrics and rhythms -- through me even after they have ended. So, I am impressed and drifting more to country that still hangs onto an honest sound, rather than succumbing to a country-pop-rock blur. I favor him as a soloist than as Ryan Bingham and The Dead Horses, but they're still really good. Be sure to check out all his albums.

"Along them Louisiana byways and lonesome highways, roll on.
Won't you take me where the poor man lives; its where I call my home.
And can't you see that a breeze is nothing but a change in pace.
Money can't buy my soul 'cause it comes from a hard-earned place.


But on the southside of Heaven, won't you take me home,
'Cause I've been gone for so long, and lord, and it's getting cold."