Willie Nelson
The 72-year-old singer on growing up in Abbott, playing in public for the first time, what he listens to on the bus, and why he doesn’t hate the music business.
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Why not Willie Nelson and the Texans?
I was the guitar player and the singer, but I wasn’t really old enough to go out and book the jobs. We put Bud’s name on it because he was the front man.
Was there ever a time when you thought you would end up doing anything other than this to make a living?
I always thought I would figure out a way to do it with music. I knew I might have to do other things along the way. Of course, I have had to do other things: I was a disc jockey, a vacuum salesman. I got a pretty good education in that respect.
At what point did you no longer have to do those odd jobs to make enough money to live on?
When I started playing in clubs all the time, it was harder to do a day job as well as play six nights. So it kind of eliminated itself. I drifted over into the nighttime and got away from the salesman stuff that you have to get up early in the morning to do. I couldn’t do them both for very long, so I finally gave up the salesman part.
What do you like about what you do?
I love to play. I love to play to an audience. I love having good musicians around me. I love the fact that we travel from one place to another. That keeps it new and fresh every day.
You’re on the road an extraordinary amount of time.
Almost all the time.
What sort of music do you listen to on the bus?
I listen to XM satellite radio a lot because I can pick it up all the way across the country. When you travel as much as I do, satellite is the most dependable thing. You hear a song and think, “Wow, that takes me back.” That’s the joy in listening to traditional music. It’s like Trisha Yearwood said in her song: “The Song Remembers When.”
Since you mention traditional music, there ought to be a Willie Nelson channel on satellite radio, if there isn’t one already.
Well, I do a radio show on XM channel 171 every Wednesday. They call it Willie Wednesday. I’m on with Bill Mack, my old disc jockey buddy from years and years ago. When he was in Fort Worth, he was the Midnight Cowboy, but now that he’s on XM, he’s the Satellite Cowboy. A guy named Eddie Kilroy also has a show, on channel 13. I listen to that a lot, because you can hear Lefty Frizzell and Bob Wills and all that good stuff 24/7. What happened to that kind of music? Why has it been forgotten by so many people? The bottom line is whatever’s commercial today, whatever’s selling. And, you know, Hank Williams is dead, and Bob Wills is dead, and they can’t make any more money off of them. They move on to somebody else.
Do you have the bad feeling about the music business that a lot of other people have?
No. You might think, “Whoever is running this record company is going to run it into the ground and ruin music” or “Whoever’s doing all these radio stations, they’re going to ruin music,” but I don’t think so. I don’t see it. I know a lot of guys who are doing it a different way. In Austin there’s Sam and Bob. They have a radio show in the morning over there on KVET, and they play great music. And they’re at a Clear Channel station! It just depends on the personalities. Some stations will play good music and some won’t.
How hard must it be to play good music?
There are a lot of politics going on with a lot of those records you hear played. The word “payola” has been around since I can remember. I don’t remember anybody giving me any, and I don’t remember paying anybody any, but I know it happens. Payola ain’t dead. It ain’t even sick.
Does it make a difference, really, if Willie Nelson moves product anymore? Don’t they just want to have you on their label? You must get an exemption.
I don’t think anyone has an exemption. I think maybe there might have been a time, years ago, when they carried you for a while even if you weren’t selling, but I don’t think that’s true today. Even with the great guys, at some point the record companies say, “That’s it for you.” They’re pretty cold-blooded; they’ll drop you in a second.
I bet you’ve probably been dropped at least once in your life.
Oh, I’ve been dropped and drop-kicked. But I don’t mind it. I’m just looking for a good label. I’m just looking for a fan. If I can find somebody in the executive branch who’s a fan, then I don’t really care what label it is. I can figure out a way to make it happen.
Am I remembering correctly that you’re about to be 73?
Born in ’33.
A lot of people much younger than you would have already said to themselves, “You know something? I’ve had a good career. I want to sit in a lawn chair and drink a beer.”
Well, I don’t like lawn chairs, and I don’t drink beer.
So you’re not tired of this life of yours?
I’ve been home [outside of Austin] now a few days, and I’ve had a lot of fun. I played some golf and rode my horse, but now I’m ready to go back out and play “Whiskey River.”
How’s your golf game?
I lie so much that I don’t really know.
Can you get out there and beat the average person?
I really don’t like to play people I can’t beat.
Probably the same with chess.
The same with chess and dominoes. I love to play all those games. I’m not a horrible golfer, but, you know, the real good golfers can have their way with me.
Speaking of golf, you’re about to play in a tournament to raise money for Kinky’s campaign for governor. Are you totally on board with his running as an independent?
I like what he says about himself. He says, “I might not be worth a damn, but I’m better than what you got.” I’m a farmer and a rancher, and I want to see agriculture do well. I haven’t seen any help from either Democrats or Republicans on that front. There’s plenty of blame all over the place.
Kinky has made so many jokes about what your job will be in a Friedman administration that I can’t keep track of them.
The last offer I had was to be head of the DEA or the Texas Rangers. I’m not sure.
This is not the first time you’ve been involved in politics. You campaigned for Dennis Kucinich during the last presidential race.
Right, I did back him. I didn’t have any idea if he could win, but we felt the same about the war and oil. I had to go with the guy I believed in.
You don’t cut George Bush any slack because he’s from Texas?
Hell no. Being from somewhere doesn’t give you any rights. I don’t have anything at all against the president personally. In fact, I understand he’s a pretty nice guy. He’s said a couple of nice things about me. I’ve got nothing derogatory to say about him, but I do think he’s getting a lot of real bad advice. The people around him who whisper in his ear all the time? They’re not his friends.
So when are you going back to Abbott?
I was just there a few days ago. I rode my bike around the same old roads that I used to a long time ago.
I’m imagining what a kid—say, six years old or a little bit older—must think walking down the street in Abbott, and here comes Willie Nelson riding his bike. It must be a total shock.
It’s not exactly like I sneak into town. The last time I was there, we had two buses parked in the driveway with the generators going. I’m sure everyone knew I was home.
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