The Old Chops

Ian Tyson had the best voice since Nat King Cole.

I really believe that.

There were times 20 years ago that I would sit and play Nat albums, then some Sinatra, and then some Tyson. Theirs were my Three Great Voices.

Outside of country and western circles (with Tyson, heavy on the western), Tyson didn't have the fame of a Nat or a Frank. After his Ian and Sylvia marriage and folk days were over, he donned a cowboy hat and kept it there. He wrote stories instead of songs, and he once said that the songs coming out of Nashville were boring and tired. He would eventually settle down in Alberta. Another marriage went under the wheels and still he was singing. Until he couldn't.

I watched a pretty good interview of his tonight, and his rasping voice was stunning. Gone was the voice that could climb the scales with ease. The low bass, the high falsetto. He could do it all. He was certainly the most pleasant sounding singer, the kind of guy that could keep you company. He sounded like an older brother would sound. Most of his songs were happy ones, some of them sad, but they all said something concrete. No hidden meaning. Rarely did he have a song that sounded as if it was on the album just to take up the number 11 slot.

His chops left him last year. I know I've been in one place too long because I've lost all track of music. When I was on the move, I used to know music well. I would keep an ear out for new songs and fancied myself a professional listener of anything but rap, and even that I would listen to enough so I could play it at parties. Lately it's been way way too much news, too much sports radio, and not enough music. I have to get back to my roots: classical for a half hour, then country, then metal, then folk, then some old standards by the Rat Pack and their contemporaries. (My mixed tapes used to drive ex-girlfriends nuts; now I can blame it on the computer's shuffle feature).

I heard some of Tyson's new stuff tonight. He sounds like a cross between Tom Waits and Leonard Cohen. If you aren't a fan of either, then you might not like Tyson's new sound, but he's worth listening to. He always has a good story to tell.

But, man, I'll miss that voice. Adelita Rose. Irving Berlin is a Hundred Years Old Today. Old Corrals and Sagebrush. Four Strong Winds. Good stuff.

My dad dug Tyson a lot. Introduced me to him. I wonder if he'll dig Tyson's new sound. Hope so.

Here's Tyson with his old voice, singing the greatest travelling-man-break-up song of all time: