All language subtitles for COUNTRY MUSIC - 7 - Documentary -Hr

Johnny Cash: ♪ they gave him
his orders ♪

Fat Monroe, Virginia ♪

♪ said, "Steve,
you're way behind time ♪

♪ "this is not 38,
this is ol' 97 ♪

♪ put her into
Spencer on time"... ♪

Man: When I was growing up
on Route 8, Kosciusko Road,

in Philadelphia, Mississippi,

the Gulf, Mobile, and Ohio
ran right behind our house.

And it sounded like the train
was coming through my bedroom

at night and I loved it.

♪ Cash:
"Watch ol' 97 roll" ♪

And I used to dream about
getting on that train

and riding and just going to...

I didn't want
to go to New York,

I didn't want
to go to Hollywood,

I wanted to go to Nashville
and play that kind of music

that touched my heart.

Cash: ♪ ...In the wreck
with his hand on the throttle ♪

♪ scalded to death
by the steam ♪

[Train's whistle blows]

[Mandolin playing]

Narrator: From the time
he was a little boy,

growing up in Mississippi
in the 19608,

music was a central part
of Marty Stuart's life.

His mother had named him after

her favorite country singer,
Marty Robbins,

and gave him a cowboy guitar
when he was only 3.

By age 9, he had
mastered the instrument

and performed
wherever he could.

The first record
young Stuart ever owned

was by his musical hero
Johnny Cash.

After meeting country star
Connie Smith

at the local fairgrounds
when he was 11,

he vowed to his mama that
he would marry her someday.

At a different concert,
Bill Monroe ignited a passion

for bluegrass music
and the mandolin.

Stuart: And he gave me
his mandolin pick.

He said, "Do you want to play
the mandolin, boy?"

I said, "Yes, sir,
just like you.

He said, "This right here
will help you out."

And I carried that pick
to school with me every day

like it was kryptonite
in my pocket, or something.

I felt special because
I had something in my pocket

that nobody else had
and nobody else knew about.

Narrator: Stuart was soon
good enough on the mandolin

to impress a member of
Lester Flatt's Bluegrass Band,

who suggested that someday
the boy might travel with them.

The chance came in 1972,
when he was 13.

He got permission from his
parents to go to Nashville

and try out for
Lester Flatt's band.

The only disappointment
was that he had to take

a bus, not the train.

It dropped him off in decaying
downtown Nashville,

not far from
the Ryman Auditorium,

at two in the morning.

Stuart: 2200 in the morning,
on any night, around the Ryman

back in those days
was not the place to be.

I walked around the corner
of the Greyhound Station

and there was
the Ryman Auditorium.

The building that
I knew so much about.

And it was tired
and it was weary.

The paint was cracked and some
of the windows were out,

but it looked beautiful to me.

[Mandolin playing]

Narrator: Within a week,
Lester Flatt brought him along

to perform at
the Grand Ole Opry.

Stuart: Walking into
the Grand Ole Opry

with Lester Flatt
toting his guitar was like

walking into the Vatican
with the pope.

It was a big moment.

It was like that old scene
in the "Wizard of Qz"

where the world went from
black and white to color.

That's what it was like for me.

Everything I'd ever
dreamed of came true

when I was 13 years old.

[Mandolin playing]

And I played the mandolin,
and I was so little,

I had to hold the mandolin
way up in the air

like I was shooting birds,
or something.

At the end of the song,
the crowd just kept applauding

and applauding and applauding,

and I thought I had
done something wrong,

and I looked at Lester
and I said, "What do I do?"

He said, "Do it again."

And I knew I had found a home.

And I knew I was
where I belonged

and I was where I wanted to be.

Men: ♪ what would you give ♪

♪ in exchange for your soul? ♪

[Crowd cheering]

♪

Hank Williams Jr.:
♪ as long as I can ♪

♪ keep a lot of friends
around me ♪

Man: I think there's a paradox

that's always existed
in country music.

How much change do you embrace?

And how much change can you make
without completely obliterating

what you were
and where you came from?

Man 2: I don't like fences
built around music.

'Cause fences,
sure, they...

They keep things out,
but they also, uh,

they don't let things in.

Williams Jr.: ♪ ...Stoned
at the jukebox... ♪

Man: I think the lines
are only imaginary and that

you have to put them
there because

they're not there
in the beginning.

It's music, you know?

You can't say it's
this, that, or the other.

It's not a democrat
or republican. [Laughs]

Narrator: From its beginnings,
country music

had never been one style.

Like all art forms,
it had always resisted

being confined within
arbitrary borders.

And like all artists,
its biggest stars

had always pushed those
boundaries to their limits.

Williams Jr.: ♪and lord, I love
that hurtin' music ♪

♪ 'cause I am hurtin', too ♪

Malone: As fans, we may want
them to do the old stuff.

We're unhappy
quite often when they--

when they branch out
into something new.

But musicians,
they're innovative.

They're experimental.

They want to do
something fresh, something new.

Of course, the question is
where does it end?

When does it cease
to be country

when they've made
all these changes?

♪

Waylon Jennings: ♪ lord,
it's the same old tune ♪

♪ fiddle and guitar ♪

♪ where do we
take it from here? ♪

♪ Rhinestone suits
and new shiny cars ♪

♪ it's been the same way
for years ♪

♪ we need a change ♪

Narrator: In the 1970's,
defining country music

would be debated
as never before.

But that argument would spark
one of its most vibrant eras--

making room for new voices
and new attitudes.

And out on the edges,

where different types of music
meet and mingle

and art is always created,

country music would find
a dramatically larger audience.

Jennings: ♪ I don't think Hank
done it this way ♪

Narrator: Two women

from nearly
opposite backgrounds

would lead the way.

One would come into her own
as a writer and singer of songs

drawn from her
impoverished childhood

in the mountains
of east Tennessee.

The other, from the folk clubs
of the east coast,

would become an unlikely
convert to country music--

and, with her angelic voice,
convert millions more.

Two musical outcasts
would make their own rules

about what is
and what isn't country music.

One would have
to leave Nashville

to find his
true voice in Texas.

The other would upend
the relationship between

artists and their record labels
in music city.

A married couple, each
possessing a remarkable voice,

would create some of country
music's most enduring records

while seemingly living out
their songs' tragic lyrics.

And, as a new generation
of artists came of age,

two children of
two music legends--

one, the son of
the hillbilly Shakespeare,

the other, the daughter
of the man in black--

would strike out on their own

and prove,
as their fathers did,

that country music,
though grounded in tradition,

has always been moving forward.

♪

Tom T. Hall: ♪ country is ♪

♪ sittin' on the back porch ♪

♪ listen to the whippoorwills ♪

♪ late in the day ♪

Narrator: By the time
young Marty Stuart

debuted on the Grand Ole Opry,

the decision had already been
made that the Ryman Auditorium

was no longer suited
for an attraction drawing

400,000 visitors a year.

The former tabernacle,
owned by

the National Life and Accident
Insurance Company,

was now more than
3/4 of a century old.

Hall: ♪ knowin' your kind ♪

Man: And the street
around the Ryman Auditorium

at that time was
full of honky-tonks

and street walkers and beggars,

and the fans, they were
all getting hit out there

while they're waiting in line
to hopefully get a ticket.

And the insurance company got
very sensitive as time went on.

And it was a--it was
really a PR problem.

Hall: ♪ country is ♪

Narrator: For years,
Opry manager Bud Wendell

had been fielding complaints
from the performers

about their cramped
working conditions.

"Most of my memories
of the Ryman," Roy Acuff said,

"are of misery, sweating
out there on the stage,

the audience suffering, too."

Hall: ♪ find out what's right ♪

Narrator:
Summers were the worst, when

temperatures inside
the un-air-conditioned

brick building rose to
100 degrees and higher.

Stuart: And Lester Flatt
went to Bud Wendell and said,

"bud, we've talked about it
amongst ourselves

"and why don't some of
us older artists

"go in and pitch in
and maybe come up with

"an air-conditioning system,
or something to help out

around here a little bit?"

Bud said something to
the effect, I think, "uh, well,

"we've checked
into that, Lester,

and it's a little over
$2 million."

And Lester said,
"ain't as hot as I thought."

[Laughs]

Narrator: Wendell's bosses
decided the best solution

was to build a new home
for the Opry.

On more than 300 acres of land,

6 miles up the Cumberland River
from downtown,

they spent more than
$65 million

to build an elaborate
theme park, Opryland USA;

a sprawling, 615-room hotel;

and the spacious
Grand Ole Opry House,

fully air-conditioned,

with comfortable seating
for 4,400 people,

12 dressing rooms
for the artists,

and a separate,
state-of-the-art

television studio.

Everything was brand-new,
except for a circle of old wood

at the center of the stage.

It had come from the Ryman.

On Friday, March 15, 1974,

the mother church
of country music

hosted its final
Grand Ole Opry.

Man: ♪ good-bye,
dear, old Ryman ♪

Anderson: I'll never forget
the last night at the Ryman.

It was on a Friday night.

And we were going to open
at the Opry House

the next night, on Saturday.

There was a feeling there of,
um, it was like a feeling

I've never felt
at the Opry before.

It was a little bit of sadness,
a lot of sadness.

It was a little bit of joy.

There was anticipation.

There was a fear
of the unknown.

"Well, where do
we go from here?

"Are we cutting off our nose
to spite our face here?

Is this really what
we ought to be doing?"

Narrator: Bill Anderson sang
his big hit, "Po' Folks."

Roy Acuff did
"Wabash Cannonball"

before introducing his
old friend Minnie Pearl.

After 8 half-hour segments
of the Opry,

the Grand Ole Gospel Show
took over.

Hank Snow was a featured guest,

as were mother Maybelle Carter
and her daughters

and Johnny Cash.

The last song performed
late that evening

was the old
Carter family classic,

"Will the Circle Be Unbroken."

Listening to it all
was a young reporter

for "The New Yorker" magazine,

who had come to the Ryman
to cover the event.

Garrison Keillor had grown up
in Minnesota, 860 miles away,

glued to his family radio
every Saturday night

to hear the music
and Minnie Pearl's stories

from the make-believe town
of Grinder's Switch.

On this night,
Keillor worked his way

into the broadcast
engineers' booth,

leaned against the back wall,
and closed his eyes.

"It was good," he wrote,
"to let the Opry go out

"the same way
it had first come to me,

through the air in the dark."

The next night,
the Grand Ole Opry debuted

from its brand-new home
in the suburbs.

♪ From the great Atlantic Ocean
to the wide Pacific shore... ♪

Anderson: I get goose bumps
even thinking about it now,

as they projected a film
of Roy Acuff singing

"The Wabash Cannonball"
from back in the forties.

And they're showing this
on the screen

in the new Opry House.

♪ ...on the Wabash
Cannonball ♪

Anderson: And it's just quiet
as a mouse and all of a sudden,

that screen begins to lift
and there's Roy Acuff...

♪ ...St. Louis and
Chicago by the way ♪

♪ from the hills
of Minnesota ♪

♪ where the rippling
waters fall... ♪

And they're singing
the same song.

It never missed a beat.

It was from the old film
in the forties

to here's Roy Acuff
now in his seventies

still singing
"The Wabash Cannonball."

I stood there and cried.

I'm almost...I can
almost sit here

and cry just thinking about it.

Narrator: The guest of honor
that night

was President Richard Nixon.

In Washington,
he was embroiled in

the Watergate scandal
and impeachment proceedings.

In Nashville, he was happy
to find a friendly audience.

For years, the Country
Music Association

had been telling
advertising executives

and radio station owners

that the old stereotype
of country fans

as poor and uneducated
hillbillies was wrong.

"The fans of our music,"
a CMA official said,

"elect the presidents,
run the factories,

"grow the food, transport
our goods, and, in general,

manipulate the gears of this
country every day."

"The "C" in country music,"
a brochure added, "means cash."

Whoo! Get up there.

♪ Well, good morning,
captain ♪

Narrator: By 1974, Dolly Parton
had been performing

on Porter Wagoner's syndicated
television show for 7 years.

And during all 7 of them,

Wagoner had exerted
tight control over her career.

♪ Down on your new
mud run? Hey, hey, yeah ♪

Narrator: Wagoner's own star as
a country singer was fading.

His duet albums with Parton
outsold his own solo records,

but on the road
and in the studio,

he insisted on being in charge.

"I signed the checks," he said,
"so, we did things my way."

♪ From down old
Tennessee way, hey, hey ♪

♪ I come
from Tennessee ♪

Narrator: With
Wagoner producing, she recorded

the old Jimmie Rodgers tune
from 1930,

"Mule Skinner Blues," which
became her first top 10 single.

Woman: There are songs like
the "Mule Skinner Blues"

that are just classics.

From Jimmie Rodgers
and his version of it

to Bill Monroe's,
to Rose Maddox.

There are songs like
the "Mule Skinner Blues"

that, you know,
that go all the way back.

Somebody hears that
and daddy loved that

and grandpa loved that,
and they pass that song down.

It's a little like an heirloom.

You know, something that
they can hold in the family.

They're like keepsakes.

Narrator: But Wagoner
also encouraged Parton

to record more and more
of the songs

she had written herself,
starting with "Joshua,"

which became her first
number-one country hit,

and then "Coat of Many Colors"
and "Jolene."

Parton: ♪ Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ I'm begging of you, please
don't take my man ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ please don't take him
just because you can ♪

♪ your beauty is
beyond compare ♪

♪ with flaming locks
of auburn hair ♪

♪ with ivory skin
and eyes of emerald green ♪

♪ your smile is like
a breath of spring ♪

♪ your voice is soft like
summer rain and I cannot... ♪

Woman: You know what
that feeling is like--

"that girl's prettier.
Is she going to take him away?"

She could take him
away, you know.

Is he going to leave?

Parton: ♪ he talks about you
in his sleep ♪

♪ and there's nothing
I can do to keep ♪

♪ from crying when he
calls your name, Jolene ♪

She's not cursing her out,
she's not yelling at her,

she's not being, you know,
feisty and cat woman.

She's just saying,
"please don't take my man

I mean, there's something
about that line in "Jolene "

"please don't take him
just because you can."

That is so heart-wrenching.

Parton: ♪ Jolene,
please don't take him ♪

♪ even though you can,
Jolene... ♪

Narrator: In the early 1970's,
parton had

5 number-one country
solo hits,

all of them self-written;

Wagoner had none.

Insiders could see
tensions building.

Man: Dolly got smart.

I guess she came smart.

I think Dolly learned
that she was not going to go

any further with
her career as long as

she was in Porter's shadow.

Parton: Well, I think Porter
had a real hard time

after other people started
recording my songs

and I was writing and I was
getting to be pretty popular.

And it was his show.

I wasn't trying to hog it,
but I just kind of carved out

a little, you know,
place for myself.

But it was
a love-hate relationship.

We fought like cats and dogs.

We were just both
very passionate people.

There was no way that
I wasn't going to do

what I was going to do.

And no way I was
going to not do

what he thought
I was going to do.

Narrator: "Porter dreamed of me
staying with his show forever,"

parton said, "and I dreamed of
having my own show.

"I wrote more and more songs

and dreamed bigger
and bigger dreams.'

Parton: When I was trying
to leave the show,

I had told Porter
I'd stay 5 years.

It had been 5, then it was 6,
then it was 7.

He was just having
a real hard time

'cause it was going
to mess up his show.

We were very bound
and tied together

in so many emotional ways.

And he just would not hear it.

And so, he was going to sue me;

he was going to do this;
He was going to do that.

And so, I went home
and I thought,

"he's not going
to listen to me."

'Cause I've said it
over and over.

And so I thought,
"do what you do best.

Just write a song."

So, I wrote the song,
took it back in the next day,

and I said, "Porter, sit down.

I've got something
I have to sing to you."

So, I sang it, and he was sitting
at his desk and he was crying.

He said, "That's
the best thing you ever wrote."

"Ok, you can go, but only if
I can produce that record."

And he did,
and the rest is history.

Narrator: Released a few months
after she left, it would go on

to become Dolly Parton's
best-selling song.

♪ If I should stay ♪

♪ I would only be in your way ♪

♪ so I'll go ♪

♪ but I know ♪

♪ I'll think of you
each step of the way ♪

♪ and I ♪

♪ will always love you ♪

♪ I will always
love you ♪

Emery: That song, it was
an anthem to Porter Wagoner.

♪ ...sweet memories ♪

She wrote it, I think, because
he had done so much for her.

But she felt if
she didn't leave him,

she would just remain
Porter's girl singer.

♪ But I ♪

♪ will always love you ♪

♪ I will... ♪

Holly Williams:
Writing a beautiful song

from the most
simple words.

♪ Love you ♪

"I will always love you.
I will always love you.

I will always love you,"

when she sings it
over and over,

it's just something that
any of us can relate to.

♪And I
wish you joy ♪

She was able,
like Hank Williams,

to take the most basic
one-liners,

"I will always love you,"
and turn it into a masterpiece.

♪ I wish you love ♪

♪ and I ♪

♪ will always
love you ♪

♪ I will always
love you ♪

♪ I will
always love you ♪

[Cheering and applause]

Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty:
♪ love is where you find it ♪

Narrator: Other famous duet
teams were staying together.

Bill Anderson and Jan Howard

sometimes wrote
each other's songs.

Dottie West, who had
been in Nashville

for more than a decade,
joined with Kenny Rogers,

who had recently arrived.

Twitty: ♪ ...Is almost empty ♪

Narrator: Loretta Lynn
teamed up with Conway Twitty,

the former rockabilly star who
had returned to country music.

Together, they released
nearly a dozen duet albums

and had 5 number-one singles.

Lynn: ♪ we know it's
wrong for us to meet ♪

♪ but the fire's
gone out at home ♪

Twitty and Lynn: ♪ and there's
nothin' cold as ashes ♪

♪ after the fire is gone ♪

[Applause]

George Jones and Tammy Wynette:
♪ rollin' in my sweet baby's arms ♪

Narrator: But no couple
captivated audiences,

and headlines, more than

George Jones and Tammy Wynette.

Jones and Wynette:
♪ I'll lay around the shack ♪

♪ till the mail train
comes back ♪

♪and I'll roll in
my sweet baby's arms ♪

Anderson: I think people
really felt like they were

getting a lot of the true story

and getting the story
of their own lives

when this incredibly talented
male singer

was singing with this beautiful
and incredibly talented

female singer,
and they're singing songs.

♪ We're gonna hold on ♪
ok, if, if they can hold on,

me and old Fred
can hold on, too.

Or me and old Ethel, you know?

And I think people saw
their own lives in these songs.

Jones and Wynette:
♪ ...Sweet baby's arms ♪

♪ rolling in my
sweet baby's arms, I'll... ♪

Narrator: When they got married
back in 1969,

both Tammy Wynette
and George Jones

were already
well-known artists.

Billed as "Mr. and Mrs.
country music,"

they drew large,
adoring crowds.

And their producer,
Billy Sherrill,

made sure they fed their fans
a steady string of duet albums.

Man: I see Tammy
looking at George's lips

trying to figure out
if he's ever going to

do it twice the same way

and doing her damnedest
to phrase with him.

And him with that little

beady-eyed possum look
about him,

loving every second of it.

Both: ♪ for better or worst ♪

♪ you'll always come first ♪

♪and no one can
keep US apart ♪

Narrator: "When we were
onstage," Jones said,

"we were in our own
little heaven."

Both: ♪ ...Each other ♪

♪ forsaking all others ♪

Narrator: But this was a third
marriage for both of them,

and it was never tranquil.

His binge drinking
made him uncontrollable.

She could be equally volatile.

"He nipped," she said,
"and I nagged."

[Cheering and applause]

Woman: I was friends with both
of them when they got together.

And I have to say,
I thought, "Oh, my.

I don't know whether
this can work or not."

I truly think that
George and Tammy

had a great love affair.

But there are certainly
problems that arise

from two strong careers,

a strong duet career
thrown in there,

family added,
and George's drinking

was just always a problem, too.

So, all of those elements add to
either living out a country song

or writing a damn good one.

Both: ♪ we're gonna hold on ♪

Narrator: In 1973,
Wynette filed for divorce.

They reconciled long enough for
them to go back into the studio

and record
"We're Gonna Hold On,"

which Rose to number one.

Both: ♪ on to each other ♪

Narrator: She withdrew
her petition.

♪ Life can be rough ♪

♪ sometimes it's kind ♪

♪ a real good life
is hard to find ♪

♪ it brings us happiness
all through the day ♪

♪and nothing's gonna
ever make it go away ♪

Both: ♪ we're gonna hold on ♪

♪ we're gonna hold on ♪

♪ we're gonna hold on to
each other ♪

♪ we're gonna hold on ♪

[Applause]

Narrator: Two years later,
Wynette filed for divorce again.

This time, there was
no turning back.

"George is one of those people
who can't tolerate happiness,"

she told a reporter.

"If everything is right,
there is something in him

that makes him destroy it
and destroy me with it."

They each released
popular albums,

but as solo acts on the road,
their bookings suffered.

At Wynette's concerts,
disappointed fans

often shouted out,
"where's George?"

Wynette: ♪ I may sometimes
bother you, try to be in... ♪

Narrator: Jones'
drinking increased.

He would sometimes be seen
in one of the 27 cars

he bought and sold that year,

aimlessly circling
the driveway of the home

the couple had once shared
in Nashville.

She embarked on a series
of highly publicized

and short-lived romances--

with a movie star,
a professional football player,

a country singer,
a politician, and others.

At a recording session
in late 1975,

she recorded a song
she later called

the favorite of
all her singles--

"til I can make it on my own."

Wynette: ♪ til I can
make it on my own ♪

Narrator: As the session
musicians gathered

to hear the playback,

no one in the studio
spoke a word.

"They knew," Wynette recalled,
"the song was about George."

Still, 4 months later,
Billy Sherrill was able

to get the two of them together
for one more duet album.

Its title track
was "Golden Ring,"

written by Rafe Van Hoy
and Bobby Braddock.

Man: "Golden Ring" does sound
a little bit like an old hymn.

It probably sounds
like 10 or 12

old southern gospel hymns
kind of thrown together.

When you get to
the chorus,

it's that old church
sing-a-long thing.

♪ Golden ring, golden ring,
with one tiny, little stone ♪

♪ cast aside, cast aside, like
the love that's dead and gone ♪

♪ by itself, by itself,
just a cold metallic thing ♪

♪ only love can make
a golden wedding ring ♪

♪

Both: ♪ golden ring ♪
♪ ooh ♪

♪ with one tiny,
little stone ♪

♪ cast aside ♪
♪ cast aside ♪

♪ like the love that's
dead and gone ♪

♪ by itself ♪
♪ by itself ♪

♪ it's just a cold
metallic thing ♪

♪ only love can make
a golden wedding ring ♪

♪ in a pawn shop in Chicago ♪

♪ on a sunny summer day ♪

♪ a couple gazes at the
wedding rings there on display ♪

♪ golden ring ♪

[Applause]

Narrator: "Golden Ring" would
top the country charts.

It was playing on
Wynette's car radio

on the day she was
on her way to marry

her fourth husband in 1976.

It was still on the charts when
she divorced him 44 days later.

By this time,
the smooth Nashville sound

had evolved into
something even smoother.

Charlie rich: ♪ my baby
makes me proud ♪

Narrator: People called it
"countrypolitan,"

and producers hoped it would
help their artists cross over

to the lucrative pop market.

Rich: ♪ 'cause people
like to talk ♪

Narrator: Billy Sherrill
was music city's

most reliable
countrypolitan hit maker.

He helped Charlie Rich,

a journeyman
rhythm and blues singer,

reinvent himself as an
easy-listening, country-pop star,

and when he found Tanya Tucker,

a precocious 13-year-old
with a big voice,

he gave her songs
with adult themes

that raised eyebrows
among country music's

more conservative fans

and created dozens
of hit records.

Rich: ♪and she makes me glad ♪

Narrator: Up and down music row,
other producers,

including Chet Atkins
and Owen Bradley,

steered even farther away
from country's twang.

But the bridge
to crossover success

went both ways.

Olivia Newton-John: ♪ you
came when I was happy in your... ♪

Narrator: Australia's
Olivia Newton-John

got her career launched

when her early
pop songs were promoted

to country radio stations.

In 1974, she was named
the country music association's

female vocalist of the year,

beating out Dolly Parton
and Loretta Lynn.

Country traditionalists
were surprised and angry.

Newton-John: ♪ if you love me,
let me know ♪

Woman: It shocked me.

That the music was
getting away from us.

We were losing...Our identity,

so to speak, I guess.

Narrator: The furor
was even greater

at the next year's awards show,
when CMA's top honor--

country music entertainer
of the year--

went to a folk/pop singer

who was watching from
the other side of the world.

Man: The winner...

[Laughter]

My friend Mr. John Denver.

[Cheering and applause]

Stuart: Things were changing.
And not everybody

agreed with it.

I think a lot of people saw it
as the boundaries

were being broadened
and expanded upon.

And other people saw it as that

country music is
losing its soul.

♪ I'm going down
to Austin, Texas ♪

♪ I'm going down
to save my soul, get... ♪

Narrator: While older,
traditional artists

engaged in a tug of war
with the countrypolitans,

Nashville was also
attracting a new wave

of young singer-songwriters
who had their own ideas

about the direction
of country music.

♪ Oh, my, momma, ain't that
Texas cookin' something ♪

♪ oh, my, momma, it'll stop yo'
belly and backbone bumpin' ♪

♪ oh, my, momma, ain't that
Texas cookin' good ♪

♪ oh, my, momma, eat it
every day if I could ♪

Narrator: For them,
creating a well-crafted song

was more important
than writing a hit,

though they all dreamed
that they might have both,

like the hugely successful
Kris Kristofferson.

And like Kristofferson,
many of the new arrivals

were from Texas.

People ask me and say,
"what is it about

these Texas songwriters?"

You know, "what is it?"
And I say,

"we're the best liars
in the world."

Texans have always had
this independent streak

of doing shit the way
they want it,

the way they hear it,
the way they want to do it.

Narrator: When Guy Clark
was a little boy

in the small west Texas town
of monahans,

his family didn't own
a record player

and instead
spent their evenings

reading poetry aloud
to each other.

Clark got his first guitar
when they moved to south Texas,

and the first songs
he learned were in Spanish.

By his early twenties,
he was performing in

folk clubs and coffee houses
around Houston.

After a year in Los Angeles,
he relocated to Nashville

with his wife Susanna,
a painter and songwriter.

At the newly opened Exit/In,

a small live-music venue
on Elliston Place

near Vanderbilt University,

Clark and others found a place
to try out their latest songs

in front of a younger,
more progressive audience.

Stuart: Down on Elliston Place,
it was kind of like

Paris in the twenties
must have been because

it was all bohemians
and new thinking,

forward-thinking
country music people.

Clark: The thing about
Nashville, it's not that

they're squashing
your creativity,

but they will to make a buck.

The point is
they're in business.

They're here to make money,
not to support

your artistic bent, you know?

♪ I can just get off
of this L.A. freeway ♪

♪ without getting
killed or caught ♪

♪ I'd be down the road
in a cloud of smoke ♪

♪ to some land I ain't bought ♪

Crowell: When I arrived
in Nashville,

the whole idea out on
the street is that,

"man, I've got
to work hard enough

"and have the dedication
to lift my art up to a level

where I can get on
the Exit/In stage,"

where you would see
Kris Kristofferson perform

and Guy Clark perform.

Narrator: Rodney Crowell had
grown up in the Houston area,

steeped in country music.

His parents met
at a Roy Acuff concert,

and Crowell was
only two years old

when his father
insisted on taking him

to see Hank Williams perform.

By age 11, he was playing in
his father's honky-ton band.

At 15, Crowell
had his own group

that toured small towns
promising to perform everything

from the Beach Boys
and the Beatles

to rhythm and blues

and, their business card said,

"country, if you want it.'

he was 22 when
he came to Nashville

and soon began showing up at
the unofficial gathering place

for like-minded musicians--

the home of
Guy and Susanna Clark.

♪ All right now, I've
just hit my stride ♪

♪ right off the bat, lord,
I'm drunk on bluebird wine ♪

♪ yes, it's
all right now ♪

♪ I've just hit
my stride ♪

♪ lord, it just
started, lord ♪

♪and I'm drunk on
blueberry wine ♪

Crowell: We never called.

We just showed up
banging on the door.

You know, and sometimes
Guy just said, "Go home.

Not tonight.

Then, other times,
he and Susanna

would crawl out of bed
and get dressed,

and stay up with us till
daylight, just trading songs,

talking about how
to get it done.

Anybody was welcome
that played good music

and wasn't too much
of an asshole,

and just, you know,
"Come on over."

Crowell: I remember
Guy Clark telling me,

"You're a talented guy.

He said, "You can be a star.

"You probably have
the talent to do it,

"or you can be an artist.

"Pick one.

They're both
worthwhile pursuits."

♪

Narrator: The most frequent
visitor to the Clarks' house

was their close friend,
another troubadour from Texas,

the brilliant
and equally eccentric

Townes Van Zandt.

Van Zandt: ♪ if I needed you ♪

♪ would you come to me?
Would you come... ♪

Narrator: He was born
in Fort Worth

to a prominent family,

but Townes had turned away from

his father's and grandfather's
profession as lawyers

to pursue a vagabond's life
as a singer-songwriter.

The blues guitarist
Lightnin' Hopkins

had been the biggest influence
on his music;

another hero was Hank Williams,

whose turbulent
and tragically short life

Van Zandt seemed
determined to follow.

He drank heavily
and constantly,

was hospitalized
for manic depression,

became addicted to heroin
for awhile,

and spent his 29th birthday
convinced he was going to die,

just as Hank had at that age.

Clark: He didn't want
to be a star as such.

He wanted to be a poet.

I was always inspired by him.

But to be inspired by Townes was
different than being like him.

If you wanted to be like Townes,
you had to be dead.

Narrator: Van Zandt spent
most of his time on the road--

sometimes hitchhiking from
one performance to another;

living in rundown motels
or rented shacks;

writing all the time,
including "If I needed you,"

which he said
he composed in his sleep.

♪ If I needed you,
would you come to me? ♪

♪ Would you come to me
and ease my pain? ♪

♪ If you needed me ♪

♪ I would
come to you ♪

♪ I'd swim the seas
for to ease your pain ♪

Narrator: But it was
another song of his

that would have a profound
effect on country music

and the startling
array of musicians

who would feel compelled
to perform it.

It tells the tale of
a Mexican bandit named Pancho

and his friend Lefty,
who may have betrayed him.

Pancho dies young;
Lefty lives to an old age,

singing in a bar far north
of the border, in Ohio.

Van Zandt: ♪ living on the road,
my friend ♪

♪ was gonna keep you
free and clean ♪

Clark: "Pancho and Lefty"
was one of those songs that

you really can't
pick it apart, you know,

and have it make sense.

You have to just
let it be, you know?

It's perfectly written.

"He wore his gun
outside his pants

for all the honest world
to feel."

I mean, who wouldn't want
to write that line?

"Pancho was a bandit boy,

his horse was fast
as polished steel.

Van Zandt: ♪ Pancho was
a bandit, boys ♪

♪ his horse was fast
as polished steel ♪

♪ wore his gun
outside his pants ♪

♪ for all the honest world
to feel ♪

♪ but Pancho met
his match, you know ♪

♪ on the deserts
down in Mexico ♪

♪and nobody heard
his dying words ♪

♪ but that's the way it goes ♪

♪ now the poets tell
how Pancho fell ♪

♪and Lefty's living
in a cheap hotel ♪

♪ the desert's quiet
and Cleveland's cold ♪

♪ so the story ends,
we're told, Pancho... ♪

Woman: It's so poignant.
It's heartbreaking.

"Pancho needs your prayers,
it's true.

"But save a few for Lefty, too.

He only did what he had to do
and now he's growing old."

Van Zandt: ♪ and now
he's growing old ♪

Narrator: By 1975,
Townes Van Zandt

had recorded 6 albums,
revered by other songwriters.

None of them was
commercially successful,

but he had developed
a small, cult-like following.

Like his good friend Guy Clark,
he performed mostly at

smaller venues
around the country.

"Nashville," he told
a reporter,

"is just not geared
for minor keys."

Clark: His songs were dark.

Somebody at a show asked him,

"Man, why don't you
do a funny song?"

He said, "Those were
the funny songs."

Narrator: Growing up in
the south Texas town of Sabinal,

90 miles north of
the Mexican border,

young Johnny Rodriguez
loved mariachi music,

but also the songs
of Jimmie Rodgers,

Hank Williams,
and Merle Haggard.

I was drawn to
country music because

I could relate more about
what they were singing about.

You know, and also, I mean,
it was just like, uh,

it was the music
of our people.

I think in Mexican music,
you have stories.

Mexican music and country music
said almost the same thing,

just in different languages.

Narrator: In the early 1970's,
Rodriguez was working

at a Texas tourist attraction
called Alamo Village

when the country star
Tom T. Hall

happened to hear
him performing.

Rodriguez: ♪ I can't stop
loving you ♪

♪ I made up my mind ♪

♪ I can't stop... ♪

Hall: They were calling him
Johnny Rogers.

And I said, "How did
a Mexican guy

get a name like Johnny Rogers?"

Rodriguez: Well, my manager,
one of his big heroes,

Roy Rogers, he just, uh, said,

"Well, let's just
call you Johnny Rogers.

That's a country music name."

Hall: I said, "Well, if you come
to Nashville and pick with me,

"we're going to call you
Johnny Rodriguez.

"That's a much prettier name

and it's who you are
and we'll do that."

Narrator: Hall arranged for
Rodriguez to come to Nashville

and set up an audition
with a record label.

Hall: I said,
"I'm not a talent scout,"

but I said, "listen to
this kid sing this song

so, he started off
and he was singing

"I can't stop loving you,"

half in English
and half in Spanish.

And they said,
"we'll sign him up."

[Rodriguez singing in Spanish]

Narrator: Rodriguez would have
15 consecutive top 10 hits

and become the first
Mexican-American to be

a major country music star.

Rodriguez: I say this
with all sincerity,

I never had a cross feeling
in this city.

To this day, I've never
felt like that.

It makes me almost want to cry.
I'm serious.

But these people
are so nice

that it really still
touches me till today.

♪ In dreams of yesterday ♪

[Applause]

Narrator: In 1975, two years

after Rodriguez was nominated

for the Country
Music Association's

male vocalist
of the year award,

Baldemar Huerta, the son of

a migrant farm worker
in south Texas,

performing as Freddy Fender,

came out with his own hit song,

"Before the Next
Teardrop Falls,"

which topped both
the pop and country charts.

[Singing in Spanish]

Later, he and accordion player
Flaco Jimenez

would help form
the Texas Tornados,

who featured
the distinctive working-class

Conjunto dance music that had
grown up along the border.

♪ Before the next
teardrop falls ♪

♪and I'll be there ♪

♪ before the next
teardrop falls ♪

[Applause]

♪

Waylon Jennings:
♪ I've been a fool ♪

♪ I've been a fool ♪

♪ forgivin' you each time
that you've done me wrong ♪

♪ I've been
a long time leavin' ♪

♪ but it'll be
a long time gone ♪

Man: He sang as good
as Hank Williams,

and he was really
a good songwriter.

His voice was what
tore me up, though.

He just--he just had...
I don't know,

it's just like the way
Hank Williams tore me up.

He's...he could
sing songs that I can't.

Jennings: ♪ hello, high line,
hello, highway ♪

♪ here come a big, old semi
my way ♪

♪ stick up my thumb,
hear the truck come ♪

♪ trees goin' by,
lookin' like a fly ♪

♪ on the big legs are my
levis...I been ♪

Narrator: Born in
Littlefield, Texas

during the dust bowl in 1937,

Waylon Jennings'
earliest childhood memory

was of his father
connecting the family's radio

to the pickup truck's battery
so they could listen

to the Carter family
out of Del Rio's

"border blaster" station

and to the Grand Ole Opry
out of Nashville.

"In my house," he recalled,
"it was the Bible on the table,

"the flag on the walls,

and Bill Monroe's
picture beside it

his mother cried
every time Roy Acuff sang

"Wreck on the Highway."

Jennings: ♪ stick up my thumb,
hear the truck come ♪

♪ trees goin' by,
lookin' like a fly ♪

Ion the big... ♪

Narrator: As a teenager,

Jennings was especially drawn

to Hank Williams
and honky-ton music

and started performing it
in local bars.

Working as a disc jockey
at a small radio station,

he also soaked up
other types of music:

Rhythm and blues, and then
rockabilly and rock and roll.

Jennings: ♪ be a long time
gone ♪ [cheering and applause]

Narrator:
In 1959, he went on tour with

his good friend Buddy Holly,

from nearby Lubbock,
and it was only by chance

that Jennings wasn't
in the small airplane

that killed Holly
and two other musicians

when it crashed in
an Iowa cornfield.

By the early 1960's,
Jennings was in Arizona,

packing in huge crowds
and clearing $1,500 a week

at a night spot
called JD's in Scottsdale.

Jennings: ♪ come on, sugar ♪

Narrator: Country star
Bobby Bare heard him there,

and convinced Chet Atkins at RCA
to invite him to Nashville.

Before he agreed to leave his

well-paying steady gig
in Arizona,

Jennings asked fellow Texan
Willie Nelson for his advice.

"Stay away from Nashville,"
Nelson told him.

"They'll just
break your heart."

Jennings: ♪ candy,
candy, candy ♪

♪ I've got a sweet, sweet
piece for you ♪

Narrator: He went anyway.

But just as he had
with Willie Nelson,

Atkins had trouble
trying to mold Jennings

into a country star.

Woman: ♪ don't look
for me ♪

Man: ♪ I must go ♪

♪ don't waste
your time ♪

♪ I must go ♪

Jennings: ♪ don't look for me ♪

♪ don't waste your time ♪

Narrator: Their first album
together was folk-country.

Jennings: ♪ that's
more my kind ♪

Narrator: Their second was
filled with the smoothed-out

Nashville sound of the time.

Jennings:
♪ ...Don't look for me ♪

Narrator: A third included
a ballad by the Beatles-.

And on another, Jennings crooned
the pop hit "MacArthur park."

Woman: ♪ I must go ♪

Narrator: None of it
sounded like

Waylon's performances
back in Arizona.

Jennings: ♪ I don't care
if the sun don't shine ♪

♪ I don't care
if the bells don't chime ♪

Narrator: "They were good,
smooth records," he said,

"but I was rougher
than a goddamn corn cob.

All the damn sand I swallowed
in Texas is in my singing."

Jennings: ♪ ...As long
as you love me, so, darling ♪

Woman: Waylon needed
to just create.

I kind of put it
in very simple terms.

You know, they took
a thoroughbred

and treated him like a mule.

Narrator: In 1969,
he married Jessi Colter,

a Los Angeles-based singer
who was used to having

greater creative control
in the studio.

Colter: You could
take your musicians,

you could take your songs,
you could have a hand

in choosing your own producer,

and basically be
more independent

in putting it together so it's
truly a result of who you are.

Here, there was an old guard.
You know?

It was kind of like a large
conglomerate making refrigerators,

like RCA making TVs.

All Waylon wanted
was for his music

that he was doing live,
on the stage,

and driving the people crazy,

to sound exactly
like that on the record.

And it didn't.
It didn't.

Nelson: Waylon was, you know,
a real artist.

He knew what he wanted and he
was running into the same things

that a lot of us were
running in there.

And he decided he wanted
to do it his own way,

which was basically take his
band in the studio, which, uh,

was not that easy to do
back in those days.

Jennings: ♪ so, darlin',
let it rain ♪

Narrator: "I was
the black sheep of Nashville,"

Jennings recalled.

"They thought I was
a troublemaker."

Jennings: ♪ long as
you love me... ♪

Narrator: Fueled by
amphetamines and cocaine,

he simply didn't sleep
and spent ceaseless hours

playing pinball at
a local burger boy.

Jennings: ♪ just as long
as you love me ♪

[Crowd cheering]

Narrator: In 1972,
Jennings changed managers

and negotiated
a new contract with RCA

that broke all the prevailing
Nashville rules.

He would have his own
production company

to oversee his recordings,

choose his own songs,

use his own band
in the studio.

Jennings: ♪ well,
I woke up this morning ♪

♪ it was drizzling rain ♪

♪ around the curve
come a passenger train ♪

♪ heard somebody yodel
and a hobo moan ♪

♪ Jimmy, he's dead, he's been
a long time gone ♪

♪ been a long time gone ♪

Narrator: Jennings quickly
broke another rule,

which required RCA albums
to be recorded

with RCA engineers,
in RCA studios.

Instead, he began using
an independent studio

owned by his friend
Tompall Glaser,

where he could have sessions
as long as he wanted

at any time of
the day or night.

Jennings: ♪ ...Get to heaven,
gotta d-i-e ♪

♪ you gotta put on
your coat and t-i-e ♪

Narrator: Jennings
and his friends

called their new studio hangout

"Hillbilly Central."

Jennings: ♪ like a d-o-g,
like a d-o-g ♪

Smith: I would go to work
and go into my office

and there would be people
asleep in my office,

had been asleep in there
all night long.

Just stoned out of their mind,

one of them asleep with
the head on my typewriter

and the other one asleep
over there in the chair.

And I chased them out.

I told them they better not

come up there no more
when I wasn't there.

But they came back.
Of course they did.

Narrator: Jennings let his hair
grow longer and shaggier,

added a beard and moustache,

gave up shiny suits completely,

in favor of blue jeans
and leather vests.

And he started making the music
he wanted to make.

He invited Cowboy Jack Clement,

Nashville's most
free-spirited producer,

to work on his next album.

Musicians knew Cowboy Jack
liked what they were doing

when they saw him dancing
behind the control board.

Jennings: ♪ looks like
the place I came in ♪

Colter: When you'd get it
to the right place,

Jack would dance.

So, he felt it
from the inside out.

It wasn't about marketing or...

He was looking for great songs

and he was
looking to sense it.

And that's what he did.

Narrator: Jennings brought his
band into Hillbilly Central,

where he and Clement began
recording an album called

"Dreaming My Dreams."

It was an eclectic
collection of songs,

paying homage to
country music legends like

Jimmie Rodgers,
Bob Wills, Roger Miller,

and especially Hank Williams.

[Applause]

Jennings chose
to open his album

with a song he had written
on the back of an envelope

on the way to the studio.

It summarized his
Nashville experience.

"Are You Sure Hank
Done It this Way?"

♪ Lord, it's
the same old tune ♪

♪ fiddle and guitar,
where do we... ♪

Man: "Are you sure this is
the way it's going to work

"I don't think so.'

"the same old song,
fiddle, and guitar,

"where do we take it from here?

"Rhinestone suits
and big shiny cars,

it's been that way for years."

It says it all right there.
This has got to change.

♪ We need a change ♪

And why does it have to change?

Because it doesn't
speak to the people

who are listening to our music.

♪ Somebody
told me... ♪

Benson: It was a call to arms,
kind of, you know?

♪ Son, you finally
got it made ♪

♪ old Hank
made it here ♪

♪ we're all sure
that you will ♪

♪ but I don't think Hank
done it this way, no ♪

♪ I don't think
Hank done it this way ♪

♪ take it... ♪

Narrator: "Dreaming My Dreams"
became a huge hit.

Now other country artists
were demanding

contracts like Waylon's.

And more and more people were
showing up at Hillbilly Central.

Smith: First of all, the
building didn't have windows.

And everybody,
up and down music row,

wanted to come in that building
to see what is going on there.

Willie would come to town
and he would be there.

Kinky Friedman
and the Texas Jew Boys

practically lived there.

They'd be walking
up and down the halls.

Shel Silverstein
hung out there.

And the great
Cowboy Jack Clement.

The hip people of
Nashville, Tennessee

hung out at that building.

People thought, "they've got
something going on

and they ain't got no windows."

Jennings: ♪ singing my songs,
and one of his now and then ♪

♪ but I don't think
Hank done it this way, no ♪

♪ I think he did it
like he wanted to, yeah ♪

♪

Benson: I think every generation
comes up with their own sound.

Music starts out raw.

And, as it go,
it gets more polished,

more polished, more polished,

and the next generation
comes along and goes,

"We don't like
that slick stuff."

And it becomes
funky and raw again.

Narrator: By the 1970's, with

countrypolitan ruling
the airwaves,

acoustic string band music had

virtually disappeared
from country radio.

But there were still
plenty of people playing it.

Stuart: Bluegrass festivals
were doing great.

The roots of it was great.

Everybody that mattered
was still making

plenty of good music, they just

weren't getting
recognized as much.

Narrator: Marty Stuart,
still a teenager,

was now officially part
of Lester Flatt's band,

The Nashville Grass.

On occasions, he also traveled

with Bill Monroe,
the patriarch of bluegrass.

Stuart: A lot of my
early mandolin experiences

were just riding down the road

after some of
those shows at night

and him just, us, sitting there
in the darkness, you know,

looking at the tail lights
to the bus in front of us,

playing music.

And he kept his
regular mandolin here,

and sometimes he
kept one over here

that was tuned in strange
tunings very ancient-sounding.

He called them
the ancient tones.

And he was never
one of those guys to say,

"listen to this tune

he would, he would go like...
[Playing mandolin]

And look off and I was
supposed to go...

[Playing mandolin]

And when I would get it,
he'd move on.

And, uh, when I'd miss it, he'd
just kind of, um, shake his head

and run off and do
something else.

And it would kill me
if I couldn't keep up.

Narrator: Other
bluegrass musicians

were also coming of age.

Ricky Skaggs was
from the mountains

of eastern Kentucky.

Man: I'd stand in
the middle of the house,

and I'd hear mom and dad
listening to

Flatt and Scruggs
or Ralph Stanley,

and then i'd,
I'd hear, you know,

my sister listening
to the Beatles, uh, over here.

And I would stand in the middle,
and it's like

I would hear two worlds
going off and on.

But it was, you know,
the harmonies

that John and Paul were doing
was not different

than what Ralph
and Carter was doing.

To me, I could hear it.

Narrator: Like Marty Stuart,
Skaggs had taken up the mandolin

at an early age--and he
was good at it, too.

Skaggs: I was 6 years old.

I had only been playing
the mandolin about a year.

And, uh, Bill Monroe
came to Martha, Kentucky.

And that night changed my life.

Some neighbors in the hood
had started, uh,

shouting out to Mr. Monroe,
"Let little Ricky Skaggs

get up there and sing one."

He was nice and he
kept on doing his show.

So, finally, after a couple more
hee-haws from the audience,

why, I think he was ready
to put a stop to it,

so he invited
"Little Ricky Skaggs"

to come up onstage.

I don't think he really
knew how little

Ricky Skaggs was at the time.

He took his big F-5 sized
mandolin like this

and put the strap
around the curl here

and put it on me when he
found out I played mandolin.

You know?
And we played a song called

"Ruby, Are You Mad at Your Man?"

Now, that is a 6-year-old
hit, right there. [Laughs]

♪ Oh, Ruby, Ruby, honey,
are you mad at your man? ♪

♪ Oh, Ruby ♪

♪ Ruby ♪

I never knew what
she was mad about. [Laughs]

[Banjo playing]

Narrator: In Norman, Oklahoma,

a young banjo and guitar player

named Vince Gill switched from

playing rock and roll
in high school

to join a bluegrass band,
Mountain Smoke.

They thought they had
caught their big break

when they were asked to fill in
at the last minute

as the opening act at
a concert in Oklahoma city.

Man: We went down to the
civic center in Oklahoma city

and we were going
to open for Kiss,

in our little bluegrass band.

And you couldn't--
you couldn't script--

"Spinal Tap" couldn't
script this, you know?

They had their
30-foot drum risers

and stacks of amplifiers
to the ceiling

and death and fire
and all of this stuff.

We come out there with our

little fiddles
and our mandolins.

[Imitates fiddle]
[Laughs]

These people flipped
completely out.

They hated us so bad.

They started booing from
the first note and screaming,

and I must say, it was
kind of a neat feeling,

having that many people
pissed off at you,

and screaming at you, that

it was like a big roomful
of applause in a weird way.

We only lasted about 3 songs,

and then the beer bottles
started flying,

and we said, "well,
we better get out of here.

So, I turned around
and flipped them off

and told them to kiss my ass.

And the next day, there was
a review in the paper

and it said, "Group member
Vince Gill on his departure

"showed the crowd
which part of his anatomy

the crowd could kiss,"

in their block letters, that
was their logo. [Laughs]

Narrator: Meanwhile, Lester
Flatt and the Nashville Grass

found themselves playing
on the same stage

with the jazz pianist
Chick Corea

and the funk band
Kool and the Gang.

Stuart: I remember
putting my head down

on the bunk in the bus, going,

"they're going to laugh us
off of the stage."

But we went out there
in that traditional dress,

all these old guys,
and me, as a youngster,

and the movie "Deliverance"
was pretty hot at the time.

And, unknowingly, Lester had
always done "Dueling Banjos"

as a part of his show
for years.

It was on the new record.

So, it was just simply
one of the instrumentals

that was played that night.

[Playing "Dueling Banjos"]

[Applause]

Well, that unlocked,
and we encored.

And at the end of the night,
we had encored 9 times.

And the next day,
Lester's manager

booked 72 college shows
and rock shows

off of that one
30-minute performance.

[Cheering and applause]

And the next thing I know,
we go from being

a tired, old Opry band that's
playing "mom and pop" shows

and, you know,
bluegrass festivals

to we were rock stars.

Narrator: One of their
first shows was

at Michigan State
University.

The concert that
night featured

an up-and-coming
rock group, The Eagles,

and a former member of
the Byrds, Gram Parsons,

who had brought
along a new Harmony singer,

Emmylou Harris.

Harris: He was passionate about
real country music,

the real washed
in the blood stuff.

But he was also a child
of the sixties.

Rock and roll was also
a passion of his.

He kind of had one foot
in both worlds.

He really believed that you
could bring the two together.

The Flying Burrito Brothers:
♪ she's telling dirty lies... ♪

Narrator: Back in 1968, Parsons
had come to Nashville

and recorded the album "Sweetheart
of the Rodeo" with the Byrds.

In California,
he and Chris Hillman

put together a new band,
the Flying Burrito Brothers.

The Flying Burrito Brothers:
♪ unhappiness has been ♪

♪ her close companion ♪

♪ her world is full of
jealousy and doubt ♪

♪ it gets her off to see
a person crying ♪

♪ she's just the kind that
you can't do without... ♪

Benson: The music that was
going on in California,

in southern California,
was the Byrds

and the Flying Burrito
Brothers.

In northern California,

the Grateful Dead
had a spinoff band,

The New Riders
of the Purple Sage.

There was Commander Cody.

There was this incredible
crossing of people

very interested in the
roots of country music

and folk music
and rock and roll

and how it all
fit together.

Narrator: As a self-appointed
apostle of the fusion

he called
cosmic American music,

Parsons became friends with
the Rolling Stones

and helped influence the
creation of their song, "Wild Horses."

Parsons' next prospect for
conversion to country music

was Emmylou Harris.

Except for Johnny Cash,

I couldn't be fooled with
country music.

Folk music was
what really spoke to me.

♪ Calliope calling,
children are falling ♪

♪ in line to ride on
the merry-go-round ♪

♪ people are passing,
children are laughing ♪

♪ they want to ride on
the merry-go-round ♪

♪ doesn't matter
when you came ♪

♪ every ride is
just the same ♪

♪ do not worry
how it's done ♪

♪ there is room
for everyone... ♪

Narrator: Born in Birmingham,
Alabama and raised in Virginia,

Harris dropped out of college,
got married,

had a baby, then a divorce.

She had bounced around
the east coast folk scene

for several years when one of
the Burrito Brothers

heard her performing at a small
club in suburban Washington, D.C.

And told Parsons about
her remarkable voice.

♪ Ooh ♪

[Cheers and applause]

Gram Parsons:
♪ love hurts ♪

♪ love scars... ♪

Narrator: A year later,
as Parsons prepared

to record his first
solo album,

he sent Harris a plane ticket
for Los Angeles,

and they began rehearsals,

which included his tutorials on
the music he loved,

like melodies written by
Felice and Boudleaux Bryant

or the tight harmonies of
the influential gospel

and country duo,
the Louvin Brothers.

Parsons: ♪ take a lot
of pain... ♪

Harris: It was a very intense
musical learning experience for me.

Parsons: ♪ love hurts... ♪

Harris: I had no idea who
the Louvin Brothers were.

They had these wonderful
harmonies.

There's such a tension
in the voices

that you feel like
you're starting to vibrate.

Parsons: ♪ mmm,
love hurts ♪

I became a big fan of
the Louvin Brothers

and started trying to track down
their records.

Parsons: ♪ I'm young... ♪

Narrator: Harris' own
exquisitely tender harmonies

added the special element
Parsons had been searching for,

and they went on tour to
promote the result.

Parsons and Harris:
♪ I know pain ♪

♪ or two... ♪

Harris: I had finally
discovered who I was

as a singer from
singing with him

and becoming this huge
country music convert.

Parsons: ♪ I really
learned a lot... ♪

I finally felt I had found

where I was supposed to be
as a singer.

I felt like
I was a singer

who was coming through
the country music door.

Parsons and Harris:
♪ ...Hurts ♪

♪ mmm, love hurts ♪

Stuart: That night
at Michigan State

was the first time I ever
saw rock and roll

and bluegrass and honky-ton
and folk music

and gospel music collide.

And she was dead
center of every bit of it,

like sparks were flying off of
her as much as they were anybody.

And I remember thinking it can
all exist

under the umbrella of
country music.

Parsons and Harris:
♪ love hurts ♪

♪ they call it that
ol' mountain dew ♪

♪ lord, lord, and them
that refuse it are few ♪

♪ I'm gonna hush up
my mug ♪

♪ if you'll just
fill up my jug ♪

♪ with that good
ol' mountain dew ♪

♪ well, now, my uncle mort,
he's sawed off and he's short ♪

♪and he measures
about 4-foot-two ♪

♪ but he thinks he's a giant
when you give him a pint ♪

♪ of that good ol'
mountain dew ♪

♪ well, they call it
that ol' mountain dew ♪

♪ lord, lord, and them
that refuse it are few ♪

♪ I'll hush up my mug
if you fill up my jug ♪

♪ with that good ol'
mountain dew ♪

Play it, Jody.

Man: I tell people, "Willie's
not from around here."

I mean earth.

Benson: Obviously, his voice
is different.

When I first moved
to Texas, people would say,

"that Willie Nelson sings
through his nose." You know?

Yeah, it's a hell of a nose.

♪ We call it that ol'
mountain dew, lord, lord ♪

♪ and them that refuse it
are few... ♪

We really didn't think that
Willie could ever break through

to the mainstream 'cause
he was too different.

He was too good
and too different.

And the stuff that made it

in the mainstream was not
different.

Nelson: ♪ that good ol'
mountain dew ♪

And then the
mainstream found out.

[Chuckles]

And then it got really nuts.

Narrator: In 1972,

after 10 discouraging
years in Nashville,

Willie Nelson had
returned home to Texas.

In Austin, he discovered
an emerging music scene

that seemed to him much more
freewheeling

than the Nashville he knew,

less concerned about
labeling music

and more welcoming to offbeat
artists like himself.

Asleep at the wheel:
♪ I was born in Louisiana... ♪

Narrator: Its focal point was
an old national guard armory

just across the Colorado river
from downtown Austin,

a place called
Armadillo World Headquarters,

where live music ranged from
B.B. King,

Jerry Jeff Walker,
and Taj Mahal

to Frank Zappa,

the Flying Burrito Brothers,
Commander Cody,

and Ray Benson and his band,
Asleep at the Wheel.

Asleep at the wheel:
♪ I saw miles and miles... ♪

Benson: We played
at the Armadillo

and it was like,
"This is it. It's heaven.

We found heaven on earth."

People our age
love our music.

They have beer.

There were
college girls to chase.

Rent was $100 a month.

And pot was cheap.

We needed money,

but we were not motivated just
by making money.

Asleep at the Wheel:
♪ ...Till I die ♪

But it was more important that
we had the freedom.

[Cheers and applause]

Nelson: ♪ whiskey river,
take my mind... ♪

Narrator: Willie Nelson was
nearly a generation older

than most of the patrons,

and the other musicians,
at the Armadillo,

but from his first
appearance on its stage,

they fell in love with him.

Nelson: ♪ ...Take care of me ♪

Benson: He was on a personal
journey to play

the music and
create the music

and become the person that he
was going to become.

Nelson: ♪ don't let her memory
torture me... ♪

Benson: This was a town that
allowed him to do that.

He let his hair grow.

He said, "they don't need me
to wear a suit

and a tie and a turtleneck
or whatever."

Narrator: Nelson could sense
from the strange mixture

of people showing up that
something new was happening.

He called his friend Waylon
Jennings in Nashville.

Smith: Willie said, "Waylon,
I've got preachers and pilgrims

"and poets, poor people,

"hillbillies,
college graduates.

"They're all sitting
side-by-side

"watching me play
my songs and sing my music.

You need to come down here
and see what's going on."

Narrator: Jennings soon became
a regular

at Willie's annual
fourth of July picnics,

where long-haired
college students

and redneck truck drivers
partied together.

They're out there
drinking beer, smoking pot,

and finding out that they
really didn't hate each other.

Willie's picnics.

The most disorganized gathering
of the tribes.

I don't know how
to describe them except chaos.

Nobody was in charge.

Nobody knew what
was going on.

Willie would lose money
every time.

But the people would show up.

I don't know, 20,000, 30,000
people, but who paid?

It was like Woodstock.
Nobody paid, you know.

Lone Star Beer would
sponsor everything.

We didn't care.

Nelson: ♪ you're all I got,
take care of me ♪

[Cheers and applause]

Nelson: ♪ in the twilight glow
I see them ♪

♪ blue eyes crying
in the rain... ♪

Narrator: When Nelson signed
a new contract

with Columbia Records,

he negotiated the same
terms Waylon Jennings got

and immediately went to work

on his next album,
"Red Headed Stranger,"

a collection of haunting songs
that together tell the story

of a man who kills his
unfaithful wife and her lover,

then rides off
across the west,

grieving
and seeking redemption.

Nelson: ♪ only memories
remain ♪

♪and through the ages
I remember... ♪

Narrator: Nelson chose
a small studio

near Dallas to make
the album

because he thought his previous
records had been over-produced.

Nelson: If you want
to know the truth,

I think money was
the bottom line.

There's no money to be split up
if you go ahead and do--

take 3 guys
and do an album.

You've got to have
strings and voices and horns,

and so there's hundreds
of thousands of dollars

in the record before
you get it out,

which also means you're never
going to get a quarter out of it

'cause it's all tied
up in the beginning.

Narrator: Nelson spent only $4,000
recording "Red Headed Stranger"

and got the simple, unvarnished
sound he was looking for,

his singular voice untouched by
any engineering tricks,

and the sparest back-up
instrumentation,

including his own idiosyncratic
guitar playing.

Nelson: ♪ blue eyes crying... ♪

Narrator: Columbia Records
didn't know what to make of it.

Man: We all were in agreement

that it was a poor,
lousy-sounding record.

They said, "We can't put
this out."

I said, "Well, I agree.

It's this total--sounds like
a bad demo."

I said, "Let's do this.

"Let's appease Willie by
releasing the record.

"It'll die a quick death.

"That way he'll be
more receptive

to what everybody
wants him to do."

So we put it out.

And we were wrong as hell.

A big, big record.

And, after that, everybody left
Willie alone, including me.

Narrator: The album attracted
near universal acclaim.

Nelson: ♪ red headed stranger
for blue rock, Montana ♪

♪ rode into town one day... ♪

Narrator: One reviewer called it
a masterpiece.

Another compared Nelson's
unsentimental style to Hemingway's.

And it sold steadily,
staying on the charts

for an unprecedented
120 weeks.

Nelson: ♪ ...Like thunder ♪

♪ his lips, they were
sad and tight ♪

Narrator: In Texas,
Willie and his band

seemed to be everywhere--

performing at a fundraiser for
a Houston radio station

after it was firebombed
by the KKK,

drawing 10,000 people
to a concert

in his tiny hometown of
Abbott,

and doing the pilot show

for his adopted city's
public television station,

experimenting on the idea of
an hour-long program devoted

exclusively to one artist's
live performances.

"Austin City Limits" would go
on to become

the longest-running music
program in television history.

Nelson: ♪ if he should
pass your way... ♪

Narrator:
Only a few years earlier,

drunk and despairing
over his career,

Nelson had sprawled out in the
middle of Broadway in Nashville.

Now "Newsweek" magazine called
him "The King of Country Music"

and "Rolling Stone" put him
on its cover.

Nelson: ♪ don't fight it,
don't spite it ♪

♪ just wait till tomorrow ♪

♪ maybe he'll ride on
again ♪

Harris: ♪ I don't want to hear
a love song ♪

♪ I got on this airplane
just to fly ♪

♪ and I know there's
life below me ♪

♪ but all that it can... ♪

Narrator: Emmylou Harris'
collaboration with Gram Parsons

ended tragically and suddenly
when he died at age 26

of an alcohol
and drug overdose.

Harris: ♪ I don't want
to hear a sad story... ♪

Narrator:
His death, she said,

"was like
falling off a mountain."

Harris: ♪ full of heartbreak
and desire... ♪

I didn't really know
what I was doing.

I knew that I wanted to make
a country record,

almost like in memory
of gram.

♪ ...and the canyon
was on fire ♪

♪ I would rock my soul ♪

♪ in the bosom of Abraham... ♪

The simplicity of
country music

is one of the most important
things about it.

It's about the story and
the melody and the sound

and the voice
and the sincerity of it.

♪ From Boulder
to Birmingham... ♪

Crowell: When they hear
her voice,

they feel like they've
been touched by an angel.

Harris: ♪ I could see
your face ♪

♪ if I thought I could see ♪

♪ I could see... ♪

It just somehow
gets past everything

and winds up
somewhere in your heart.

And it feels good in there.

Narrator: In 1975, Harris came
out with two solo albums.

Harris: ♪ if I could only
win your love... ♪

Narrator: She filled them with
songs drawn from the lessons

in country music that Parsons
had provided--

Merle Haggard's "Tonight
the Bottle Let Me Down,"

Dolly Parton's
"Coat of Many Colors,"

George Jones'
"One of These Days,"

Hank Williams'
"Jambalaya," and others.

Harris: ♪ I'd give my all
to make it live ♪

♪ you'll never know
how much I'd give ♪

♪ if I could only win
your love... ♪

Narrator:
Released as a single,

her version of an old Louvin
Brothers song,

"If I Could Only
Win your Love,"

went to number 4
on the country charts,

then her renditions of
Buck Owens' "Together Again"

and Patsy Cline's "Sweet Dreams"
both reached number one.

Harris: ♪ ...Win your love... ♪

Narrator: One reviewer, noting
her background in folk music

and that she was based
in Los Angeles,

nevertheless declared
that her music was

"More country than Nashville

Harris: ♪ ...Love ♪

When I became a convert
to country music,

there's no other
word for it,

I became obnoxious,

trying to get people to listen
to everything.

Narrator: She surrounded
herself with some of

the leading rock
instrumentalists on the west coast.

They were called
The Hot Band.

Harris: ♪ made me put my
money in the bank, baby ♪

♪ straighten down... ♪

Narrator: The one she became
closest to was Rodney Crowell.

After hearing some
of his songs,

Harris had invited him to
California to work on her albums.

Harris: Rodney was kind of like
my kid brother.

We were the same kind of sort of
quasi-hippie kids,

but we had totally different
upbringings.

He grew up with country music.

Harris: ♪ party just started,
lord, I'm drunk on ♪

♪ bluebird wine ♪

♪and it's... ♪

He was kind of my partner in
this wonderful crime

of making country music
outside the lines

but with total respect for the
tradition of country music.

♪ Wine ♪

Crowell: So, we just took
traditional country music

and southern rock and roll
and rockabilly

and just played it,

you know, and just let it have
its voice.

And it was good fun.

♪ Well, good-bye, Joe,
we gotta go ♪

♪ me, oh, my, oh ♪

♪ me gotta go pole the pirogue
down the bayou ♪

♪ my Yvonne,
the sweetest one ♪

♪ me, oh, my, oh ♪

♪ son of a gun, gonna have
big fun on the bayou ♪

♪ well, the jambalaya
and crawfish pie ♪

♪and a fillet gumbo ♪

♪ 'cause tonight i'm
gonna see ♪

♪ my machez amio... ♪

Narrator:
With The Hot Band,

Harris played in every type
of venue,

from the Palomino Club
in north Hollywood

to Armadillo World Headquarters
in Austin.

They were the opening act for
folk and pop star James Taylor,

as well as Merle Haggard,

and for the 60,000 fans
who came to hear

Elton John at Dodger Stadium.

♪ Fountaineaux,
the place is buzzin' ♪

♪ kinfolk come to... ♪

Man: Emmylou Harris was
a lone voice.

Emmylou didn't explode
onto the scene,

she bloomed.

And she'll forever
be that rose

that bloomed into our
collective consciousness

and our musical consciousness.

♪ ...and a fillet gumbo ♪

Whoo!

♪ Tonight I'm gonna see
my machez amio ♪

♪ pick guitar,
fill up a jar ♪

♪and be gay-oh ♪

♪ son of a gun,
we'll have big fun ♪

♪ on the bayou ♪

Narrator: During a whirlwind
visit to Nashville,

she was asked to judge a talent
contest at the Exit/In,

then performed
at the 50th anniversary show

of the Grand Ole Opry.

She provided vocal backup on
a Guy Clark album

and recorded Townes Van Zandt's
song "Pancho and Lefty."

♪ Jambalaya, a-crawfish pie ♪

♪and a fillet gumbo... ♪

Narrator: Her label wanted her
to cross over

to more mainstream music.

Instead, she came out with
two albums tinged

with bluegrass
featuring Ricky Skaggs.

"Rolling Stone" magazine
hailed her music

as "country without corn.'

everyone seemed to love
Emmylou Harris.

♪ On the bayou ♪

Yee-hee!

Thank you. The Hot Band.
Thank you.

I tell you, this sure beats
the Red Fox Inn

in Bethesda, Maryland.

Jennings: ♪ low down
leaving sun ♪

♪ done did everything
that needs done... ♪

Smith: They wanted their music
to sound on record

like it sounded when they stood
on the stage and sung it.

That's all it was about.

Narrator: Hazel Smith was
the office manager

at Hillbilly Central
in Nashville,

where Waylon Jennings
and his friends

were now turning out
hit after hit.

Reporters started asking her
how to describe the music

Jennings, Willie Nelson,
and others were creating.

Smith: In my mind, I thought
everything needed

a title for it to happen.

So I always did,
and still do,

have a dictionary
under my desk.

One day, I reached under there
and I pulled it out

and just went through it
and come to the word "outlaw."

And it was about that much
information there that meant very little,

but the last sentence
said it all.

And here's what it said--

"Living on the outside of
the written law."

And I leaned back in
my chair and I went...

I said, "that's it.".

They are not going along with
the Nashville establishment.

They're doing
their own thing

and they're doing it the way
they want to.

Jennings: ♪ where does it go? ♪

♪ The good lord only knows ♪

♪ seems like it was just
the other day... ♪

Smith: That's why outlaw music
was born, thank you very much.

That was what outlaw music was
right there.

And if anybody tells you
anything else,

say, "you're a liar.

"The woman that named it outlaw
music looked at me in the face

and she knew
what she did and knew why.

Jennings: ♪ ...Another way
to be... ♪

Narrator: Meanwhile, executives
at RCA saw an opportunity

to inexpensively cash in on
the outlaw mystique.

Jennings: ♪ ...Hero like me,
yeah ♪

Narrator: In their vaults,

they had some unreleased
recordings of Jennings',

along with songs
performed by Willie Nelson

and Waylon's wife
Jessi Colter,

and decided to put them together
into a new album.

At Jennings' insistence,

they added some tracks by
Tompall Glaser,

the owner of
Hillbilly Central,

and called the compilation
album

"Wanted! The Outlaws."

Jennings: Ia long time
forgotten ♪

♪ are dreams that just fell
by the way ♪

♪ the good life he promised ♪

♪ ain't what she's
living today ♪

[Cheers and applause]

Willie.

Nelson: ♪ but she never
complains of the bad times... ♪

Narrator: The album rose to
the top of the country charts,

crossed over to the top 10
on pop charts,

and, after selling
a million copies,

became the first certified platinum
album in country music history.

Jennings and Nelson:
♪ she's a good-hearted woman ♪

♪ in love with
a good-timing man... ♪

Narrator: Then it sold
a million more.

The Jennings-Nelson duet on
"good hearted woman,"

which they had written years
earlier during a poker game,

became a number-one single.

Smith: My god, that was a song
worth singing, wasn't it?

I mean, you ain't got no songs
like that

coming out of this
hillbilly town now.

A "Good Hearted Woman"?

Ain't nobody
going to sing nothing

that makes that much sense,
don't you see?

You asked me what about
the music. It was truth.

And, boy, if there was ever
a truer song than that one,

I don't know what it is.

"A long time forgotten
with dreams

"that just fell by the way.

And the good life she's living
ain't what she's living today."

Ain't that great?

Narrator: "Suddenly, we didn't
need Nashville," Jennings recalled.

"They needed us."

Nelson: Oh, we thrived on it.

We thought it was the best
thing that happened to us.

"Hey, they're calling us
outlaws."

Everybody who's tried
in the creative business

has to have a little outlaw
in him.

So I think there's a lot of
people out in the audience

who have a little
outlaw in them, too.

So they were willing to forgive
us some of our misgivings,

as long as
the music was good.

♪

Nelson: ♪ sometimes I wonder ♪

♪ why I spend ♪

♪ the lonely nights... ♪

Narrator: Willie Nelson was
bigger than ever

and even more steadfast
in refusing

to bow to any musical
orthodoxy.

He slipped some old pop
standards,

like "Stardust"
and "Georgia on My Mind "

into his live performances
in Austin

and discovered an enthusiastic
response.

"The kids in the crowd
thought 'Stardust'

was a new song I had written,"
he explained.

"The older folks
remembered the song well

and loved it
as much as I did."

Against his label's objections,

he recorded an entire album of
similar songs.

It stayed on the
charts for 551 weeks.

Nelson: ♪ beside
the garden walls ♪

♪ when stars are bright ♪

♪ you are in my arms ♪

♪ the nightingale ♪

♪ tells his fairytale ♪

♪ of paradise where
roses grew ♪

Williams Jr.:
♪ I went down to the river ♪

♪ to watch the fish
swim by... ♪

Narrator: By the mid-19708,

Hank Williams had been dead for
nearly a quarter-century,

but his shadow
still loomed over

any country musician dreaming
of success.

Williams Jr.:
♪ the doggone river was dry ♪

Narrator:
No one felt it more keenly

than his only son,
Hank Williams, Jr.

Just 3-1/2 years old when
his dad died,

Hank Jr. had few actual memories
of his famous father

beyond listening on the radio

to hear him say good
night to Bocephus,

Hank Sr.'s affectionate nickname
for his little boy.

But Audrey Williams was
determined that he would be

the vehicle to keep her former
husband's memory alive,

and provide her a chance to be
in the spotlight

in ways she hadn't been during
Hank Sr.'s short career.

Man: When I was 8 years old

and I went out and did the very
first show,

I thought, "Oh, my gosh."

You know, this is
an 8-year-old boy

that's the son
of a god-like figure.

So an 8-year-old
boy's out there

and you've got people
that are crying

and people that are
laughing,

and what's going on here?

Does it sound that bad?

It has quite an effect on
a little guy. Yeah.

♪ ...blues ♪

Narrator: Williams made his
Grand Ole Opry debut at age 11,

singing the same song his
father had at his own debut,

"Lovesick Blues."

By the time Hank Jr. was 14,

his mother had negotiated
a contract for him

to record an album
of Hank Sr.'s songs.

♪ I got a hot-rod Ford
and a $2.00 bill ♪

♪ I know a spot
right over the hill ♪

♪ there's soda pop
and the dancing's free ♪

♪ so if you want to have fun,
come along with me ♪

♪ saying, hey, good lookin' ♪

♪ whatcha got cookin'? ♪

♪ How's about cookin'
somethin' up ♪

♪ how's about cookin'
somethin' up ♪

♪ how's about cookin' somethin'
up with me? ♪

[Cheers and applause]

Narrator: To promote the album,
Audrey arranged a tour

that opened in Canton, Ohio on
new year's day, 1964,

the same place his father
was headed

when he died in the
backseat of his car.

At a promotion in Nashville,
Audrey brought the car itself.

Holly Williams: My dad was
dealing with his dad's shadow

from day one, not only from
fans and friends,

but from his own mom.

She was right there
with other people going,

"You need to sing your
daddy's songs."

You know, "You need to
write like your daddy did

it was very hard for him.

Narrator: "Loosen up a bit,"
Johnny Cash urged Audrey.

"Let him be Hank Williams Jr.
awhile."

She didn't pay any attention.

As soon as he turned 18

and became entitled
to his inheritance

and legally able to
make his own decisions,

Williams dropped his mother
as his manager

and set out to make
his own way in the music world.

Williams Jr.: I said,
"I'm done with this.

I'm doing my own...

Because there's one
simple reason.

Daddy don't need me
to promote him.

How dumb can you be?

He does not need me to
promote him.

What a joke.
That's a joke. Yeah.

I said, "I think I better start
writing my own

and doing my own style
of stuff."

Holly Williams: He told me his
first few shows of his own music,

you know, he would, literally,

he's getting boos
from the crowd.

He said 50% of them,
sometimes 80% would be gone.

There'd be a few people left
sitting there.

They'd throw
stuff at him.

He'd say,
"If y'all don't mind,

I'm going to sing a song of mine
for you tonight."

And just gone. They don't care
about it, you know,

which just on a basic,

you know, human being nice to
people level

is so shocking to me that people
would just turn away and walk out.

But they
didn't want to hear it.

They wanted to hear
"Cold, Cold Heart"

and "I Saw the Light,"

and so, he really, really
struggled for years.

Narrator: By 1974, he had
entered what he called

"an endless nightmare of bars
and shows,

of Jim Beam
and mulch-colored pills."

"I’d never realized
how deeply ingrained

my daddy's myth
really was," he recalled.

"At 25 years old,
I was more like him

"than I ever figured I'd be--

drunk, on dope, divorced "

convinced he was on the same
trajectory as his father,

he attempted suicide by
swallowing a bottle of painkillers.

Williams Jr.: ♪ I'm gonna take
a freight train ♪

♪ down at the station, lord... ♪

Narrator: A doctor advised him
to leave Nashville

and rethink his life

or he would certainly not even
make it to 29.

Williams Jr.:
♪ the highest mountain... ♪

Narrator: He moved to Alabama
and lived in a small cabin.

Williams Jr.:
♪ can't you see ♪

Woman: ♪ can't you see ♪

♪ oh, can't you see ♪
♪ can't you see ♪

♪ what that woman... ♪

Man: Hank reached a point where
he said, "I am me.

"My name is Hank Williams,
but I am me.

"And I've got things that I want
to do and I want to say,

so I am
going to pursue that."

And just
did a complete turn.

He took quite a chance
when he did that.

Narrator: In 1975, Williams
went into a studio

in Muscle Shoals, Alabama

to record a new album, "Hank
Williams Jr. and friends."

He was attracted to what was
called southern rock,

music by groups like
the Allman Brothers,

Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Marshall
Tucker Band,

and his friend
Charlie Daniels.

Daniels: We were country,
but not what was accepted

by the country music
establishment at the time, let's say.

Every other music was changing
and moving and cooking.

And, you know, it was time for
country to do that, too.

Narrator: When the sessions
ended,

Williams took off for
Montana

to relax before releasing his
album and going on tour.

Williams Jr.: ♪ I'm going to
quit singing ♪

♪ all these sad songs... ♪

Narrator: He was happy with
his new record,

which included
"Living Proof,"

a song that mentioned
the early death of his father

and lamented, "I don't want
to be a legend,

I just want to be a man

Williams Jr.: ♪ when I sing
them old songs of daddy's ♪

♪ seems like everyone
comes through ♪

♪ lord, please help me ♪

♪ do I have to be ♪

♪ a living proof? ♪

Narrator: Hiking along a Ridge
near the Idaho border,

he accidentally
slipped and tumbled

nearly 500 feet down
the rocky slope.

By some miracle,
he survived,

though every bone in his face
had been broken,

one eye was
permanently damaged,

his nose was torn off,

and parts of his
brain were exposed

through a deep gash
in his forehead.

3 surgeons worked
7-1/2 hours trying

to put him back together.

The news quickly reached
Nashville and his godparents,

Johnny Cash and June Carter,
who raced to be with him.

John sat down on
the side of the bed...

Uh...

It was, um...

Something I really needed
at that time.

There wasn't any better
medicine than

having him there with me.

Narrator: Over the next 16
months and after 9 surgeries,

Williams' face was
reconstructed.

When his album was finally
released,

another member of his
country music family,

Waylon Jennings, stepped in
to help him promote it.

It was a risk. You know, my dad
wasn't huge at the time.

But Waylon looked at
him and believed in him

and believed in his songs, not
him covering his daddy's songs,

and gave him his--really his
first break in music

and on the road.

Williams Jr.: There was nobody,
nobody in this business

that was more special
to me than Waylon Jennings.

He believed in me.

Narrator: When he made it
to age 29,

Williams released
"Family Tradition."

♪ Now, these country
music singers... ♪

Narrator: It began
an uninterrupted string,

through the 1980s
and early 1990s,

of 21 gold records.

♪ ...disowned a few other
boys and me ♪

♪ I guess it's because ♪

♪ I kind of changed
my direction ♪

♪ lord, I guess I went
and broke ♪

♪ their family tradition ♪

♪ they get on me and want
to know, Hank ♪

♪ why do you drink? ♪

♪ Hank, why do you roll smoke? ♪

♪ Why must you live out
the songs that you wrote? ♪

♪ Over and over ♪

♪ everybody made my prediction ♪

♪ so if I get stoned
and sing all night long ♪

♪ it's an old family
tradition... ♪

Holly Williams: The Williams
family tradition

is to follow
our own passion.

Find your own way. Write what
you know and what inspires you.

I'll never forget
a security guard saying,

"your dad's shows were wilder
than our Guns 'n' Roses

and Metallica in the eighties,"
you know?

More fights and drinking
and whiskey,

but then dad would
do his acoustic set

and that's when you go,

"He does have
Hank's blood in him.'

he can rip
your heart out with songs

like, "Old Habits"
and "Blues Man."

♪ ...old family tradition... ♪

So he's known for
his party songs,

but he still had
that gene to just, you know,

make you stop and listen and
really relate to his music.

♪ Why must you live out
the songs that you wrote? ♪

♪ If I'm down in
a honky-tonk ♪

♪ some slick's trying to
give me some friction ♪

♪ Hoss, leave me alone,
I'm singing all night long ♪

♪ it's an old Williams
tradition ♪

[Cheers and applause]

Narrator: Johnny Cash's oldest
child, Rosanne,

had been 12
when he divorced her mother.

She and her little sisters
spent summers with Cash,

but grew up mostly in
southern California.

Woman: I loved country music
when I was a little kid.

But then as pre-teen
and teen,

that was my parents' music.

I didn't care,
I didn't want to know.

And then the day after I
graduated from high school,

my dad came to high
school graduation,

and he took me with him
the next day.

And I went on the road with him
for 3 years.

When I left, I thought,

"I'm just going to hang
with my dad

"and, you know, I'll go to
college later

"and this is going
to be great, travel the world,

stay in nice hotels,
and see dad play."

And so it was that,

but it very quickly became
an education.

Bobby Bare: ♪ I'm 500 miles
away from home ♪

Rosanne Cash: We were on the
bus one day talking about songs.

I was talking to dad about
wanting to be a songwriter.

And he said, "Well,
do you know this song?"

And I said, "No."

And he played it for me.

And he said, "Do you
know this song?"

I said, "Never
heard that one either."

And he got really alarmed.

And he sat on the bus
and made this list.

And he wrote across the top,
"100 essential country songs."

And he said, "This is
your education."

Bare: ♪ 500 miles
away from home ♪

Narrator: Rosanne, like
Hank Williams Jr.,

was unsure about following in
her father's footsteps.

Rosanne Cash: I wanted to be
a songwriter.

And I was just torn
with how to do that

and not be completely eclipsed
by my dad's shadow.

So I did a lot of things.

I lived in Europe
for awhile.

I made my first album
in Europe.

I thought, "Maybe I'll
try to do this quietly

and no one will notice
that he's my dad."

Narrator: She returned
to the United States,

and in 1979
married Rodney Crowell,

who became her producer.

Rosanne Cash: ♪ ...World
we're living in ♪

♪ the rules ain't like
they've ever been ♪

♪ speaking of spreading
it thin ♪

♪ that's what you do
when you're flashing your soul ♪

♪ oh, that ain't no way... ♪

Narrator: The albums they would
create reflected her own life

and experiences as distinctively
as her father's life

had marked his music,

including a dispute with
her husband,

which she turned into her first
number-one song.

Rosanne Cash: Got in this big
fight with Rodney

outside a French restaurant on
Ventura boulevard,

and I started writing what
was a long poem,

and I distilled it down to
"Seven Year Ache."

And I didn't know if it was
a country song.

I didn't know if I had achieved
what I was trying to do.

Crowell: When I first heard
Rosanne's song "Seven Year Ache,"

well, I was really happy
with it 'cause she wrote it

because I was being an idiot,

and she was really writing
about me,

and I thought, "Oh, great.

This is a great song
and it's about me."

♪ You act like you were
just born tonight ♪

♪ face down in a memory
but feeling all right ♪

♪ so who does your past
belong to today? ♪

♪ Baby, you don't say nothing
when you're feeling this way ♪

♪ the girls in the bar thinking,
"who is this guy?" ♪

♪ but they don't think nothing
when they're telling you lies ♪

♪ you look so careless... ♪

Narrator: The album would
become a gold record

and be nominated for a grammy.

♪ ...when their pockets
are full ♪

♪ just tell them you're trying
to cure a 7-year ache... ♪

Narrator: Rosanne Cash was
25 years old.

♪ Boys say, "when is he gonna
give us some room?" ♪

♪ girls say, "god, I hope
he comes back soon". ♪

Gill: I have a daughter
that sings,

and I know how hard it is
for her.

So in a sense, I probably have
some good knowledge

of how hard it was for Rosanne
to be taken seriously.

But the cool thing was that she
was nothing like her dad.

The music was nothing
like her father's.

She came from a totally
different place,

and she was her own artist
from day one.

Narrator: By this time,
Johnny Cash had made

an addition to
his musical family.

Lester Flatt had died,

and Marty Stuart joined
Cash's band.

It's interesting. The first two
records I ever owned in my life

was a Johnny Cash record

and a Lester Flatt
and Earl Scruggs record.

And the only two jobs I've
ever had was

with Lester Flatt
and Johnny Cash.

So that worked out.

Parton: ♪ here you come again ♪

♪ just when I've begun to
get myself together ♪

♪ you waltz right
in the door ♪

♪ just like you've
done before ♪

♪ and wrap my heart round
your little finger ♪

♪ here you come again... ♪

Woman: She's crossed all
boundaries.

Dolly's not country,
Dolly's not rock,

Dolly's not pop,
Dolly's everything.

And everybody from
every genre loves her.

Parton: ♪ all you gotta do
is smile that smile ♪

♪ and there go all
my defenses... ♪

Lee: She didn't want to be
just Nashville.

Nashville was great to her
and she reveres it,

but Dolly
wanted to be everywhere.

And that's what she did.

[Camera shutters clicking]

Parton: ♪ looking better than
a body has a right to ♪

♪and shaking me up so... ♪

Narrator: Frustrated with the
trajectory of her solo career,

Dolly Parton hired a new
management team in Los Angeles,

and traveled there to
record a new album.

"I'm not leaving country
music,"

she told reporters,
"I'm taking it with me."

Parton: ♪ all you gotta do
is smile that smile... ♪

Parton: I was trying to expand
my horizons.

I wanted more.

I just felt like I could have
a broader audience.

But when I first got
L.A. management,

everybody said I was making
a mistake leaving Porter's show.

Porter told me that as well.

Everybody was saying I was
betraying country.

How could I not be country?

I'm a country girl at heart,
in my voice,

in my feelings,
in my attitude.

Narrator: Parton's
number-one country singles

had sold about
60,000 copies.

"Here You Come Again,"

her first crossover success,
sold a million.

Then the album it came from did
the same and went platinum.

All across the country,
people wanted to learn

about the petite and shapely
blonde with the big hair.

With her
refreshing sense of humor,

especially about herself, Dolly
never disappointed them.

"It costs a lot of money," she
said, "to look this cheap."

In New York, she gave a free
concert at city hall Plaza,

and mayor Ed Koch presented her
with the keys to the city.

Later, she was the guest of
honor at a party

at the famous studio 54.

"Although I look like a drag queen's
Christmas tree on the outside,"

Parton said, "I am at heart
a simple country girl."

Parton: This is a country
girl's idea of glamor.

I wanted to have
beautiful clothes.

I wanted to, you know,
to wear makeup.

I'd pattern my look after the
town trollop in our hometown

'cause I thought
she was beautiful.

Narrator: Parton was also one of
the savviest artists in the business.

She had her own
publishing company,

marketed a successful line
of Dolly dolls,

and negotiated a 3-year deal
with a Las Vegas hotel

said to be worth from
$6 million to $9 million.

Parton: I've never had
a problem being a woman.

That's worked for me more than
it's worked against me.

I just always believed that
I was strong

in myself and strong
in my work.

I do know, and I have seen,

that it can be a hindrance,

but I would always
just go in just saying,

"I think I've got something
to offer,

and I think we can both make
a lot of money from it."

And usually, by the time
the deal was done,

I'd have the money and gone.

Holly Williams: She's my idol
in many ways,

but the fact that she is such
an unbelievable songwriter

at the core of all
that superstardom

and, you know, fancy show stuff,
appearance,

is probably the most amazing
thing about her to me.

Narrator: In 1980,
she achieved an entirely

new level of
national stardom

when she joined Jane Fonda
and Lily Tomlin

in the hit Hollywood
movie "9 to 5."

Let's just sit
down and--

look, I've got a gun
out there in my purse.

And up till now, I've
been forgiving and forgetting

because of the way
I was brought up,

but I'll tell you one thing,

if you ever say
another word about me

or make another
indecent proposal,

I'm gonna get
that gun of mine,

and I'm gonna change you
from a rooster to a hen

with one shot.

Don't think
I can't do it.

Parton: ♪ it's all taking
and no giving ♪

♪ we're just... ♪

Narrator: Thanks to
her songwriting talent,

her unmistakable voice,
her bigger-than-life persona,

and her tireless drive,

Dolly Parton had become the most
famous woman in country music.

"I'm not offended by all
the dumb blonde jokes

because I know I'm not dumb,"
she said.

"And I'm not blonde, either.'

Parton: ♪ putting money
in his wallet ♪

♪ 9 to 5, whoa, what a way
to make a livin' ♪

Narrator:
Country music's embrace

was now bigger than ever.

Artists were exploding
the old definitions

and exploring every possible
combination of styles,

and many of them didn't care
what it was called.

Alabama: ♪ like grandma
and grandpa used to play... ♪

Narrator: Alabama, a country
band formed by 3 cousins,

emerged from playing for tips
in rowdy dance halls

to filling big arenas and
thrilling their legions of fans

with their rock-style
productions.

Ronnie Milsap, a blind singer
from North Carolina,

mixed country and rock, blues
and soul

and had dozens of
number-one hits.

The Oak Ridge Boys had been
trying for years

to expand their fan base from
the tiny gospel market.

With songs like "Elvira,"

they became one of the
top-selling groups in country music.

Barbara Mandrell had mastered
the steel guitar

by the time
she was 11 years old.

By 13, she toured
with Johnny Cash

and backed up George Jones.

Now she released albums that
R&B stations played

and starred in
her own network variety show.

Kenny Rogers had played folk
and rock music

and sang country-pop ballads
like "The Gambler,"

a song so popular 4 made-for-television
movies were based on it.

Between 1973 and 1983,
the number of full-time

country radio stations
would nearly triple,

rising from 764 to 2266.

Gold albums, once a rarity,

were now being announced nearly
twice a month.

Jones: ♪ there are those who'd
like to change ♪

♪ the way I'm living... ♪

Harris: I think I was sweeping
the floor or something,

and I had a George Jones
record on,

and all of a sudden,
I heard him.

I don't know how to
explain it.

But it was like a
veil lifted from my ears,

attached to my soul
and my heart

and the way I listened
to music.

I heard him, truly heard him,
for the first time,

the soulfulness in his voice.

And it was just this incredible
"aha" moment

where I thought, "There's just
no one like him."

Jones: ♪ I've done everything
I can ♪

♪ to make you happy... ♪

Sherrill: I don't think you can
understand George Jones.

I don't think there's a way,

a way on god's green earth to
understand George Jones.

I...

I quit trying
a long time ago.

Jones: ♪ ...Arms may ache
and want to hold you... ♪

Narrator: In the years following
his divorce from Tammy Wynette,

George Jones' life spiraled
out of control.

Jones: ♪ ...Don't
give a damn ♪

Narrator: Already prone to
violent bouts of heavy drinking,

he now became addicted
to cocaine.

He continued to record,

and no one disputed the singular
power of his voice.

But Jones seemed
intent on self-destruction.

He began missing concerts,

so many that promoters and fans
alike gave him a new nickname.

It had been "possum"

now it was "no show Jones."

The mixture of whiskey
and cocaine

made him chronically
sleepless and paranoid.

He lost weight, dropping to
under 100 pounds.

He had repeated run-ins with
the police for speeding around

in one of his Cadillacs
while drunk.

Jones: ♪ ...I might wake... ♪

Narrator: Entangled
in lawsuits

for bad debts
and cancelled shows,

he filed for bankruptcy,
lost his house,

and lived in his car for
awhile.

Jones: ♪ I just don't
give a damn ♪

Narrator: Tammy Wynette's life
was in shambles, too.

Now married to
her fifth husband

and plagued
by health problems,

she had become hooked on
prescription painkillers,

and then involved in a string of
bizarre incidents,

including a sensational claim
that she had been kidnapped

and beaten up
before being released

Wynette hadn't had a number-one
hit for 4 years,

and neither
had George Jones,

when Billy Sherrill brought
the two of them back

into the studio in
January 1980

for another album of duets,
"Together Again."

Jones: ♪ we always wanted
a big two-story house... ♪

Sherrill: It was kind of like
two wounded animals.

Not too wounded to keep
doing what they wanted to do

and what they loved doing.

Narrator: A single from the
album, "Two Story House,"

which Wynette had co-written
especially for the occasion,

would rise to number two on the
country charts in the spring of 1980.

But its success paled compared
to a song Jones recorded

by himself less than
a month later.

The epitome of a country song?

Probably "He Stopped
Loving Her Today."

It's just a love story.

It's sad.

It's a wonderful melody.

It's probably one of the most
well-written songs ever.

Narrator: "He Stopped Loving
Her Today"

was written by Bobby Braddock
and Curly Putman.

It describes a man who waits
all his life,

pining away for
the woman who's left him.

Midway through the song, it's
revealed that the only reason

he stopped loving her is
because he has died.

Billy Sherrill believed the song
was a perfect fit for George Jones.

The only problem was Jones kept
confusing the melody

with Kris Kristofferson's "Help
Me Make It Through the Night."

Sherrill: He was going, ♪ he
said I'll love you till I die ♪

I said, "that's 'help me make
it through the night,' fool."

Finally, he said...
He got mad and said,

♪ "he said, 'i’ll love
you till I die' ♪

Is that good enough?"
I said, "that's fine."

Jones: ♪ he said, "I'll love you
till I die" ♪

♪ she told him, "you'll
forget in time" ♪

♪ as the years went
slowly by ♪

♪ she still preyed upon
his mind ♪

♪ he kept her picture
on his wall ♪

♪ went half crazy
now and then ♪

♪ he still loved her
through it all ♪

♪ hoping she'd come back
again... ♪

Narrator: With some of
Nashville's best session musicians,

sherrill created
an arrangement

that had a classic
countrypolitan sound--

a faint, weeping steel guitar
without a hint of twang,

sweet background vocals,

and an ensemble of strings that
built steadily

toward the song's climax.

Braddock: This may sound strange
coming from the songwriter,

but I think that room full of
cellos and violas

and violins
ascending on that record,

sounding like the man's
soul going up to heaven,

I thought that was the most
powerful thing on the record.

Sherrill: Word for word,

after I played him
the finished product,

so help me god, Jones said,

"You've got your record,
but listen, son,

nobody will ever buy that morbid
son of a bitch."

Jones: ♪ he stopped loving
her today ♪

♪ they placed a wreath
upon his door... ♪

I am convinced George Jones
might be the most soulful singer

the planet has ever known.

Jones: ♪ ...Him away ♪

♪ he stopped loving
her today... ♪

Narrator: 3 months after
its release,

"He Stopped Loving Her Today"

reached the top of the country
charts,

George Jones' first solo
number-one hit in 6 years.

It would go on to sell
a million records

and win every possible award for
the songwriters and the artist.

It's one of those songs
that was meant to be.

And it was one of those songs

that George Jones was meant
to record.

And when he got done with it,
it had been done.

Jones: ♪ ...Her today... ♪

Smith: The first time I heard
it, I was driving out 65.

I had to pull off the road.

I couldn't see
I was crying so hard.

That song just really
touched me,

and I honestly
think it may have happened.

[Laughs]

Jones: ♪ he stopped loving
her today ♪

Emery: I asked Merle one time who
his favorite country singer was.

He said, "George Jones."

I asked George who his favorite
country singer was,

he said, "Merle Haggard."

[Laughs]

Narrator: By the early 1980s,

Merle Haggard, already
considered one of country music's

greatest singer-songwriters, had
recorded more than 40 albums

and had more than 30
number-one singles.

In 1983, he began work on
an album with Willie Nelson.

They had been recording for 5
days at Nelson's studio in Texas,

but still hadn't found the right
song to anchor the album.

Haggard had gone to
sleep on his bus.

Meanwhile, Willie's daughter
played her father

a tune he had never
heard before.

It was on an
Emmylou Harris album,

a ballad written by
Townes Van Zandt.

And Willie came and knocked on
my bus late one night,

about 4:00 in the morning,
actually,

and I had just laid down.

And he said, "I think I've found
a title for our album."

And he had a paper sack
rolled out

and these words were
that long.

And, like I said, I had just got
to bed and I said, "Willie,"

I said, "I can't even
see those lyrics."

I said, "you guys go ahead
and put it down,

and I'll put my voice on
in the morning."

"No," he said. "Get up
and come in there with me."

And said, "Let's do it all
at once."

So I went in there.

I was real sleepy, and we
recorded that thing.

And I was thinking
while I was doing it,

"Well, I'll do this over in
the morning," you know?

So I got up the next morning
and went in the studio,

and I said, "Can I do that vocal
track over?"

And they said, "Hell, it's on
the way to New York."

Nelson: ♪ living on the road,
my friend ♪

♪ was gonna keep you free
and clean... ♪

Narrator: The song was
"Pancho and Lefty."

The album would shoot to number
one on the country charts,

cross over to pop,

and sell more
than a million records.

Nelson: ♪ ...Her favorite
one it seems... ♪

Narrator: To get there,
the song had traveled

a long, meandering road.

Two of country music's
legendary songwriters,

the musical outlaw
from Texas

and the poet of the common man

from the hardscrabble streets
of Bakersfield,

had listened to an album
recorded

by a former hippie folk
singer

who had been converted to
country music by a cosmic cowboy

and in doing so stumbled
upon a song

written by an eccentric
vagabond

who spent his days trying to
write the perfect song

and some of his nights
crashing with friends

at a home where the focus was on
art, not commercial success.

And on his 60th birthday,

Willie Nelson would sing
"Pancho and Lefty" again,

this time with someone else

who also defied musical
categories--Bob Dylan.

Nelson: ♪ out of kindness,
I suppose... ♪

Narrator: Backing them up
on the mandolin

was the kid from
Philadelphia, Mississippi

who had played
in Lester Flatt's

and Johnny Cash's band--
Marty Stuart.

Nelson: ♪ ...Down south ♪

♪ ended up in Lefty's mouth ♪

Music cuts through all
the boundaries,

and a lot of us know that.

So we're not afraid to
play anything for anybody,

because music will
get through.

♪ There ain't nobody knows ♪

♪ all the federales say ♪

♪ they could have had him
any day ♪

♪ they only let him
go so long ♪

♪ out of kindness,
I suppose ♪

["Jolene" playing]

Parton: ♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ I'm begging of you, please
don't take my man ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ please don't take him
just because you can ♪

♪ your beauty is
beyond compare ♪

♪ with flaming locks
of auburn hair ♪

♪ with ivory skin and eyes
of emerald green ♪

♪ your smile is like
a breath of spring ♪

♪ your voice is soft
like summer rain ♪

♪ and I cannot compete
with you, Jolene ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ I'm begging of you, please
don't take my man ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ please don't take him
just because you can ♪

♪ he talks about you
in his sleep ♪

♪ and there's nothing
I can do to keep ♪

♪ from crying when he
calls your name ♪

♪ Jolene ♪

♪and I can easily
understand ♪

♪ how you could easily
take my man ♪

♪ but you don't know
what he means to me ♪

♪ Jolene ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ I'm begging of you, please
don't take my man ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ please don't take him
just because you can ♪

♪ you could have your
choice of men ♪

♪ but I could never
love again ♪

♪ he's the only one for me ♪

♪ Jolene ♪

♪ I had to have
this talk with you ♪

♪ my happiness depends on you ♪

♪ and whatever you decide
to do ♪

♪ Jolene ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ I'm begging of you, please
don't take my man ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ please don't take him
just because you can ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ I'm begging of you, please
don't take my man ♪

♪ Jolene, Jolene,
Jolene, Jolene ♪

♪ please don't take him
even though you can ♪

♪ Jolene ♪

Chorus: ♪ Jolene ♪

♪ Heading down south
to the land of the pine ♪

♪ thumbing my way into
north Caroline ♪

♪ staring up the road,
pray to god I see headlights ♪

♪ so, rock me, mama,
like a wagon wheel ♪

♪ rock me, mama,
any way you feel ♪

♪ hey, mama, rock me ♪

[Cheering and applause]

Announcer: Funding for
"country music" was provided

by: The Annenberg Foundation;

by the Arthur Vining Davis
Foundations,

dedicated to strengthening
America's future

through education;

by Belmont University,
where students can study

music and music business
in the heart of music city;

by the soundtrack of america"
made in Tennessee--

travel in formation
at tnvacation.com.

By the metropolitan government
of Nashville

and Davidson County;

and by Rosalind P. Walter.

Major funding was also provided

by the following members

of the Better Angels Society:

The Blavatnik Family Foundation,

the Schwartz/Reisman Foundation,

the Pfeil Foundation,

Diane and Hal Brierley,

John and Catherine Debs,

the Fullerton Family
Charitable Fund,

by the Perry and Donna
Golkin Family Foundation,

Jay Alix and Una Jackman,

Mercedes T. Bass,

and Fred and Donna Seigel

and by these additional members.

[Bob Willis and his Texas Playboys'
"new San Antonio Rose" playing]

By the Corporation
for Public Broadcasting

and by viewers like you.

Thank you.