MY DEAR WATSON

for a man who seems to follow a remarkably straight line in country music, Dale Watson is startlingly upfront when it comes to stating his views of what he describes as today's "candy-ass country music". Ably carrying the mantle passed on by such luminaries as Don Williams and Marty Robbins, Watson sees no conflict between the furrow he ploughs and the radical opinions he voices. All of which makes for a refreshing trip along the highways and, mostly byways, of country.

Watson's a man renowned for his no-frills, honky-tonk music and his remarkable matinee-idol looks. And contrary to most pre-publicity, there's truth on both counts. Watching him woo an audience of true aficionados on the finer points of honky-tonk in Whelan's, it'd be a wizened soul who'd refuse to doff the hat to this most consummate of performers. And encountering him in the harsh daylight of Temple Bar, it doesn't take an optician to tell that this young man is easier on the eye than a year's supply of Optrex. Jimmy Dean is alive and well and living in Pasadena . . .

Watson has been building a solid following on the back of almost incessant touring, both at home and in Europe, and bagged a British Country Music Award in 1997 in the 'Best Artist On An Independent Label' category.

"You know, I've been able to tour Europe and gather a lot of followers by just ploughing up the roads, touring in places where few bands are going," he reflects. "And it's paid off. I've got quite an audience who've grown with my music now over the years, and they know my albums from the very earliest to the last one, I Hate These Songs. And I tell you that that's very gratifying."

His precocious songwriting style might have something to do with his burgeoning appeal too.

"I think it was a song I wrote about my disgust for what's going on in Nashville called 'Nashville Rash' that really tuned a lot of people in," he offers. "Because there are a lot of people out there who hate what they see happening in Nashville and they just don't get a look-in."

Long a lover of trucks, truckin' and anything that's remotely related to CB radios and roadside diners, Watson's just released an album entitled The Truckin' Sessions, an ode to a life that he's come close to living himself. Unlike his previous releases on Hi-Tone Records, this one's a labour of love, one that Watson's been prepared to put out by himself.

"I feel strongly that records should be available to music lovers at a fair price, unlike my earlier records which are all imports over here in Europe," he says. "And since Hi-Tone didn't want to do that with me, I decided to go it alone."

Recent developments that have seen country music with a capital "C" hit paydirt have only served to further ghetto-ise the music, according to Watson.

"I think that Garth Brooks, Shania Twain and their like have succeeded in killing country music as it was," he declares, "and I just feel so far removed from their brand of music. I've always identified a lot closer with Johnny Cash and Marty Robbins.

But what about the renegades, the Guy Clarkes, Joe Elys, Jimmie Dale Gilmores, Steve Earles and Butch Hancocks of country? Surely they've helped preserve the integrity and credibility of country music for Watson and anyone else with a genuine interest in keeping the spirit of the music alive?

"The thing is that those guys don't even get airplay on American radio stations," Watson retorts, with tangible frustration. "Those stations don't even play Merle Haggard and George Jones. It's that bad."

Ultimately though, he's happy to be a Texas native, a state with probably the most discerning audience in the world.

"The good thing about Texas is that you've got the singer/songwriters like Jimmie Dale Gilmore, the Western Swing of somebody like Doc Watson, and the outlaws like Johnny Cash, who got a Grammy last year without having had a single airplay on country radio stations in the US! It's a crazy world out there, I tell you!" he concludes. n