music & theatre reviews, Volume 7 number 2, February 2005 Comeback in Cowtown Dale Watson: Dreamland Dale Watson is back, and he sounds good. The sadly overlooked singer burned a path through the alt-country music scene in the nineties, producing a string of albums for the independent Hightone label that relished in the hardcore barroom sound of Bakersfield in the early sixties and crammed it full of the rebelliousness, brashness, and attitude Nashville fled from more than twenty years ago. Watson’s talent for writing should’ve-been-classics spans the full range of great country-western topics: 200-proof drinking songs, reckless truck driving tunes, and the sort of cheating and breakup sagas that leave hearts bleeding on the floor. Of course, country radio ignored him. He isn’t polite. Watson’s life derailed after his fiancée was killed in a car accident in 2000, sending him into a drug- and alcohol-fueled spiral that nearly cost him his own life. After spending time in recovery, he produced Every Song I Write Is For You, a collection of songs about his loss that no doubt served as much-needed therapy for the singer, but which doesn’t lend itself to casual listening. Now comes Dreamland, a comeback if ever there was one. Watson sounds more relaxed and self-assured than ever on the dozen tracks here. This forward-looking album indicates that Watson’s career still has plenty of mojo. The album opens with “Honky Tonkers Don’t Cry,” a swing on the old wood floor rocker made for the jukebox that keeps right on delivering to the final note. “Ain’t a Cow in Texas” is filled with a joy that seems hard to imagine coming from someone who suffered so much tragedy. Watson’s cover of the country standard ‘Fox on the Run’ percolates with an irresistible rhythm. And “Never Ever” just plain rocks. The album was produced by Ray Benson, the legendary driving force behind Asleep at the Wheel, so it’s no surprise that western swing, always a presence in Watson’s music, is dominant here. “Way Down Texas Way” joins that long list of great songs about the Lone Star State, a list as endless as a Texas two-lane highway. “Love at First Sight” rolls along handily atop Floyd Domino’s piano. And Watson’s ballads, always the weakest element on his previous albums, have found a new maturity that makes them as believable as the rest of his work. It’s a testament to Watson’s skills as a songwriter that the eleven songs he wrote or co-wrote here all leap out like almost-forgotten classics from the early sixties heyday of honky-tonk. He’s the real thing. Country music hasn’t sounded this good since Merle Haggard stepped out of San Quentin determined to pursue an honest living. If there was any justice in the world, Dale Watson would be richer than Bill Gates and most Americans would think Garth Brooks was the blond guy on Wayne’s World. Unfortunately, we live in a cold and indifferent universe. You can do your part to further the cause of justice, however, by dropping fifteen bucks on the best ol’ country album of the new millennium. It’s not too much to ask.
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