Over the years I have realized that our experience with his music was by no means unique. Everywhere we have gone, we have met people who have been drawn to the spell-binding, mythic landscapes that are found in his songs. So many talents have been made better by coming into contact with his music. A hell of alot of folks have been so moved by the power and cadence of his words, that they have attempted to sing those words themselves. Just among our own peers, I think of the Tindersticks haunted roadtrip into "Kathleen" and Paul K's show-ending, Hendrix-like take on "Tecumseh Valley."
In 1993, our band covered "Snake Mountain Blues" on the album New West Motel. Jeanene, his wife at the time , wrote to us, saying that she and Townes greatly enjoyed our version of the song. That letter was a huge boost to a band trying to keep it's head above water. We continue to play that song, and most likely will always play that song. Humbly, we have tried to weave the spirit of Townes into our own music.
Over the past year-and-a-half, we met Townes a number of times. Of course his condition was not always what one hoped it would be (he fought a protracted battle with alcohol), but he was always gracious, and quick with both his jokes and his words of experience. Two weeks ago we received a tape in the mail from Wolfgang, a friend of both Townes and ours. On the tape was a recording of Townes singing one of our songs, "Stopping-off Place" ("move along, cannot stay"). A smile never left my face for days. It was a huge gesture of kindness, that sadly we will never be able to repay.
I always wondered where his demons came from. I wondered why he did the things he did to himself. I wondered why he would thank audiences in Dutch, when he was playing in Germany. I wondered why he kept telling the same damn jokes. But with Townes you never wondered about his soul and his creative heart. In that department he was a giant. We were blessed to have known him. His music will continue to bless our band, and all those who encounter the genius of his songs, the knowing in his voice and the everyday truth of his words.
"baby, I'll be tyin' on my flyin' shoes"
Unlike Hank, Van Zandt's acclaim was limited to a relatively small circle of fans and friends. Emmylou Harris and Don Williams had a hit with "If I Needed You," and Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson took "Pancho And Lefty," his tale of two bandits growing old, to the top of the charts. He was esteemed by his fellow songwriters, as people like Steve Earle, Lyle Lovett, Rodney Crowell, and Robert Earl Keen have sung his praises. While his songs have been covered numerous times, many of his earlier albums have been hard to find until recently [Van Zandt recorded at least 14 albums during his career, including First Album, Road Songs and The Late, Great Townes Van Zandt.
He lived much of his life as a troubadour, playing and traveling, living much of the life he sang about. His performances featured plenty of wise cracks, tall tales, and self-depreciating jokes, though in recent years it was clear his personal demons were gaining strength. Though his songs were dark, they were always grounded in an honest appreciation of the human condition and a profound belief that one song just might be able to make things better: "Shake the dust off of your wings, and the sleep out of your eyes," he implores in "To Live Is To Fly," with enough conviction to make spirits soar, if not bodies. He was one of the rare few who could profile the down-and-out deep enough to reveal something for everyone to find hope in.