They Came to Nashville

Emmylou Harris

    59 Emmylou Harris My earliest memories of Emmylou are sketchy at best. Let’s see. At one point—it may have been 1972—Emmy was waiting tables at a Polynesian restaurant out on White Bridge Road at about the same time Rodney Crowell and I were working at T.G.I. Friday’s. I can’t remember if I met Emmylou then or not. But I distinctly remember the first time I heard her singing voice. My friend Danny Flowers (writer of “Tulsa Time”) was living in a big old rambling house on Blair Boulevard, sharing rent with two other musicians, one of whom was Crowell. My most vivid memory of that house revolves around the afternoon Danny turned me on to the legendary James Burton. For hours, I sat and listened while Danny played song after song from different albums featuring Burton on guitar. I’d never heard of Burton, but I was familiar with his licks, having heard them coming out of the radio on songs like “Suzie Q” by Dale Hawkins and the Merle Haggard classic “Mama Tried.” To Danny, James Burton was like a god. At first we listened to some Ricky Nelson albums. Like everybody, I knew Nelson from the Ozzie and Harriet TV show and from radio hits like “I’m Walking” and “Hello Mary Lou.” Early in his career, Nelson had been labeled a “teen idol” due to his incredible good looks. But the label didn’t do him justice. That afternoon with Danny, I discovered that Ricky Nelson was an artist in the truest sense. Not only could Ricky Nelson sing and write songs, but he knew how to make records, and a large part of that was surrounding himself with great musicians like James Burton. Another album we listened to was Grievous Angel by Gram Parsons. I’d never heard of Parsons either. Nor had I heard of his singing partner, whose voice sounded like an angel. Emmylou Harris was her name, and 60   They Came to Nashville the sound of them singing together was like a universe unto itself— Gram’s voice brimming with confidence, even if he didn’t always hit the notes, and Emmylou’s right on pitch, that beautiful vibrato never wavering . To this day, Grievous Angel remains one of my all-time favorite albums. That same afternoon, Danny played me a song he’d written called “Before Believing.” Emmylou had just recorded it for her first album. I’d never known anybody—much less an actual friend—to have a song they’d written on a real honest-to-God record, so I was beside myself with excitement. When Emmylou’s album came out, I was first in line to buy it and was thrilled to see Danny’s name listed among the songwriter credits. In addition, a phrase from Danny’s song—“pieces of the sky”—was chosen for the album’s title. The first time I actually met Emmylou was probably at a party at Beth and Chuck Flood’s house during DJ week 1976. I’d just finished recording my first album for Epic and was riding high that night. I’d arrived at the party with an entourage that included Ben Tal­ lent, Bonnie Garner, Ian Tyson, Raeanne Rubenstein, Melva Matthews, and Canadian journalist Roy MacGregor, who was in town doing a piece on Tyson. Earlier that afternoon, I’d done a photo shoot with Raeanne; Ben had produced my album; Bonnie had signed me to the label, and Melva was managing both me and Tyson. Naturally, I had a crush on Ian. And who wouldn’t? He was one good-looking dude—a real cowboy, unlike the “hat acts” that have saturated country music since 1990. Ian was also a hell of a songwriter, having penned the classics “Four Strong Winds” and “Someday Soon.” The crush may have been mutual, but I don’t want to sound like I’m flattering myself. As it turned out, Emmylou Harris was at the party, along with Jerry Jeff Walker, Guy and Susanna Clark, Ray Benson, and a host of others. At some point, Emmylou and I were introduced. But whatever memory I have of that moment was mostly obliterated by what happened shortly after our crowd left the party. We had all piled into my 1961 Ford Galaxie—which everybody called “Whitetrash”—to head downtown to the Old Time Pickin’ Parlor where Asleep at the Wheel, Emmylou, and Jerry Jeff were scheduled to...