Country Musings: The Oak Ridge Boys
Thoughts on random country artists that just happen to be on my mind at any particular moment. Today, remembering the great tenor, Joe Bonsall, of the Oak Ridge Boys.
Some of my earliest musical memories are shelling peas or shucking corn with my maternal grandma (whom I called “Bomma” because when I was little I couldn’t make the “gra-” sound and it just stuck) while listening to Danville, VA’s WAKG (“Country Sunshine”), the only FM country station around when I was growing up in little old Oxford, NC. Bomma didn’t care for George Jones (he sang too “warbly”) but she was a huge fan of Charley Pride, the Statler Brothers, and the Oak Ridge Boys.
The Oaks reminded her of growing up in the Baptist church, singing all those southern hymns with those mighty, Godly harmonies. All those melodies and chord progressions are as much a part of me as the tobacco I primed and helped hoist up in the packhouses with my uncles and cousins. It was the choruses of “Y’all Come Back Saloon”, “Dig a Little Deeper in the Well”, “You’re the One”, “The Baptism of Jesse Taylor”, and those like them that made the Oak Ridge Boys constant and familiar sources of comfort that I’d return to throughout my musical development: all through my initial discovery of hard rock, folk, funk, blues, heavy metal (including a fun excursion into thrash), new wave, punk, and hip-hop. After I started my radio career, the Oaks were right there, hitting the charts on and off at least through the end of the 1990s.
The Oak Ridge Boys started in the church, too. Their first iteration sang strictly gospel music, performing on the Grand Ole Opry as early as 1945 under the moniker of the Oak Ridge Quartet. They toured the southern gospel circuit and developed a huge following throughout the 1950s and into the ‘60s through several lineup changes, rechristening themselves the Oak Ridge Boys in 1961. In 1964, the first of their longtime lineup, William Lee Golden, joined, followed by Duane Allen a year or so later. Bass vocalist Richard Sterben was added in 1972, with Joe Bonsall completing their classic lineup in ‘73. By 1974, they took their first step away from gospel and toward secular country with the release of their self-titled release on Columbia. “The Baptism of Jesse Taylor”, co-written by the great Dallas Frazier and Sanger D. Shafer, was the perfect marriage of traditional country tropes (drinkin’, cheatin’) turned on their head through the lens of a good ol’ Sunday Baptism.
Moving to MCA soon after, the Oaks rolled through the ‘70s with those songs mentioned above plus “Leavin’ Louisiana in the Broad Daylight”, probably the first song I ever heard that was penned by Rodney Crowell, of whom I would soon become a lifelong fan. The Oaks were not only racking up a respectable run of hits under their own name, but their unique harmonies were in demand on others’ records, from Johnny and June Carter Cash to Paul Simon.
Settin’ Fancy Free
They entered the ‘80s at warp speed with their career-defining take on another Dallas Frazier tune, “Elvira” (which was also on Crowell’s debut in a slower, bluesier version, along with his original take on “Leavin’ Louisiana”). The hits kept coming with the thinly-veiled Coasters’ homage, “Bobbie Sue”, the future beer jingle “American Made”, “Ozark Mountain Jubilee”, and many others.
When my radio career started, the Oaks were still hitting the airwaves with their take on the Staple Singers’ “Touch a Hand, Make a Friend”, plus “Little Things”, “This Crazy Love, and others.
By the late ‘80s, however, there was trouble in Harmony City. Golden’s Leon Russell-like looks apparently weren’t setting well with the rest of the guys (which was just silly because he’d had that look for about a decade by then). He was unceremoniously voted out in favor of the guitarist in their touring band since 1981, the relatively more presentable Steve Sanders. Sanders filled the baritone chair for eight years, scoring quite a few hits with them along the way (“Gonna Take a Lot of River”, “True Heart”, “No Matter How High”, and “Bridges and Walls”). Sanders, who’d appeared on Broadway as a kid and had a few solo albums under his belt throughout the ‘70s, left the group in 1995 to deal with marital and financial issues. He died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in 1998.
After a couple of solo turns, Golden returned to the lineup on New Year’s Eve, 1995. The classic lineup was back in action, and they remained in action more or less until this year when, in January, Bonsall announced his retirement from the road, although he remained an Oak Ridge Boy. He was also suffering from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) to which he succumbed this week at the age of 76.
Bonsall in any other group would have been the most memorable member. Sporting a look that was part Gallagher, part John Oates, his energy and love for his craft was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile when he’d hop around with that piercing tenor. It was a testament to the Oaks’ collective talent that he just simply fit in with Golden’s baritone and mountain man look, Sterban’s Rod Serling come-hither looks and smoky bass, and Allen’s father-figure-like calm, but knowing control.
Kids and Armies
One thing that doesn’t get discussed enough is the Oaks’ adventurous nature. It can be overlooked when you hear fluff like their omnipresent Christmas hit “Thank God for Kids” every holiday. (I used to want to throw the 45 across the studio it showed up so much in rotation back then, but years later and eons detached from it, dang it, I’m now downright sentimental toward it.)
The Oaks were looked upon as upstarts when they added a little more backbeat into their gospel, literally, with Bonsall telling Smashing Interviews:
We were the first group to have our own band, the first drummer ever in gospel music…Everybody thought that we were longhaired hippie boys…They turned against us back then for a while.
In addition to backing up Paul Simon and covering his “Loves Me Like a Rock”, the Oak Ridge Boys always seemed to have an ear toward the hip, even pairing with Americana super-producer Dave Cobb and covering the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army”.
Their ears couldn’t always be trusted, however, as they famously turned down a really dumb-sounding song at the dawn of the ‘90s that would later make a star out of an up-and-comer. Bonsall told Country Weekly in 1998: "Duane Allen, our lead vocalist, said that he didn’t like the words `achy breaky’.”
I suppose it all worked out. If the Oaks had recorded Don Von Tress’s “Achy Breaky Heart”, we may have never known Billy Ray Cyrus (shudder the thought), or, most importantly, Miley.
Leaving a Legacy
Country music historian and journalist Brian Mansfield posted on Facebook:
Every good thing you read this week about the Oak Ridge Boys' Joe Bonsall is absolutely true. But I treasure idiosyncratic memories, so these are two things I'll always associate with him.
1) Turning around at a Bruce Springsteen concert in Nashville and seeing him pump his fist in the air as he sang along to "Born to Run."
2) Debating with him about which Talking Heads songs would make the best Oak Ridge Boys covers (he'd just seen David Byrne's "American Utopia"). We settled on "Burning Down the House" and "Heaven."
Wish I could listen to those today, but I'll settle for playing "Dream On" and "Y'All Come Back Saloon" (and a few others) again.
I sure did like that guy.
Meanwhile, Marty Stuart spoke for so many of us…
As the ‘90s progressed, the Oak Ridge Boys didn’t. Their hits were not coming like they once did. They’d gone back to the gospel that had first made them stars, putting out consistent, if unremarkable albums after Golden returned. Then, in 1999, several years into my position as a country PD on WIZS, a local AM station in Henderson, NC, a CDX came across my desk (short for CDXpress, CDXs were the method record companies would use to get their product into our hands. Around 15-25 new songs per CD around twice a month) that included the new Oak Ridge Boys’ single, “Baby, When Your Heart Breaks Down.”
I admit I wasn’t too excited, but at least my curiosity was piqued when I noticed it was only a minute long. Shorter than Maurice Williams and the Zodiac’s “Stay”! For a radio guy, this only meant one thing: back-timing heaven. Suddenly, small-market AM country stations all over were spinning it to walk up the news, sports programming, or any sort of “hard break”. It was quite a sly gimmick, and it got them back on the air in parts of the country that remembered them when so many bigger stations had long since moved on from many of the older country artists.
Recently we came full circle. Early last year, Joe Bonsall phoned into my old station, WIZS, to talk with my former colleague, Bill Harris, about the Oaks appearance at a theater in town. His enthusiasm was infectious and his continued passion for the music was obvious. Check out the interview here.
“Baby When Your Heart Breaks Down” and “Seven Nation Army” illustrate the Oak Ridge Boys’ determination and resilience. For 50 years, their harmonies and adventurous spirit kept them coming back again and again. Sadly, the voice that rode atop it all is no more, but that won’t stop us from listening to what they left us. They were prolific, daring, and at times, kinda goofy, but they made sure to spread joy wherever they went.
Thank God for that.
And, of course, there’s a Mixtape…
So many fond memories of the Oak Ridge Boys growing up, although the language to describe how much I came to dislike/hate “Elvira” is too colorful to use here. The “Seven Nation Army” cover was a fun listen though, thank you!.