Music Notes: Rodney Crowell

Mother’s Day weekend 2004, for us, produced a multitude of surprises and stories to tell. Which might be one of the reasons why the Good Lord sent us folks like Rodney Crowell; to tell stories, one by one, and preserve them in song for all people and all time. As I would find out on a swanky tour bus parked next to Gruene Hall on a gentle rainy afternoon, Rodney Crowell is indeed a storytelling man in musical score and verbal discourse alike.

And where did it all begin? Right here in Houston, Texas, yessir. However, though I was expecting to ask the self-named “Houston Kid” about his Houston roots and such, our conversation didn’t quite take that direction. Most unexpectedly, I had only to ask him one simple question: “Were you surprised that a biker magazine asked you for an interview?”, and he was off! The answer was yes, he was surprised, and he would have said no to the interview, but he conceded when he found out we were a biker mag from Texas. After establishing that, and after expressing his own surprise at how much I look like his late first wife, he launched his own biker story which kept us occupied right up until the minute Gary P. Nunn knocked on the door of the bus and joined our little party.

The story Rodney told was about a biker he knew years ago, in his early touring days, when a blueblood from Connecticut turned Indian rider boarded a tour bus in Los Angeles which at the time was occupied by Willie Nelson and Family. This biker was apparently quite imposing in stature and personality, and therefore was never asked to leave, becoming a permanent fixture on Willie’s bus for a couple years.

His name was Peter Sheridan. We won’t find his name on internet searches or in library catalogues, but he is memorialized in song by one “country” artist who he made a deep enough impression on to write a song about him. The song is “The Ballad of Fast Eddie”, which is found on Street Language, one of the earliest Rodney recordings. “The Ballad” is as far from a country song as you could venture, but if you know Rodney and his music, you won’t be surprised by this.

There is a line in “Fast Eddie” that says “So I rode my Harley into the ground, I laid her down without a sound, And I knew right then and there, You would not miss me” – yeah right. That’s why printed on the CD jacket is “In Memory of Peter Sheridan (The Real King of Hollywood). Mr. Sheridan did indeed go down on his bike, the day he got it out of the shop. Riding home, he was hit by a car and killed. We all know that when a fellow rider goes down, they are indeed missed. Maybe Rodney is a biker at heart after all, hanging out with them, inviting them to his wedding, writing songs about them. He admits he rode a Cushman as a kid, delivering newspapers in Houston, but once he rode that into a tree and escaped intact, he hung up his two wheels for good.

Though we love our bikes and riding, we might all want to be thankful for that. Look at all the great music we might have missed out on had he not streamlined his activities. In fact, for those of you who might be saying “Who is Rodney Crowell?” – first of all: shame on you! Secondly: you probably already love Rodney Crowell without...

We hope that you enjoyed reading this excerpt from "Rodney Crowell". If you would like to read the entire article and more, you can order a back issue of Jul / Aug 2004 where this article was originally published.

availabilty: sold out