Waylon was definitely right when he sang, “It don't matter who’s in Austin, Bob Wills is still the King.” Although… lately, his heir apparent appears to be Charley Crockett. His sound and writing style are quite similar to King Wills. However, Charley has found a more soulful and bluesier way of making it his own, and also keeping it relevant and meaningful to today’s aficionados of independent country music.

With a pawn shop guitar that his mom bought for him when he was 17, Crockett taught himself to play. Summers in New Orleans with his uncle sparked his ear, while the Dallas blues and Valley’s Tex-Mex slipped into his bloodstream.

He lit out after high school and spent a decade living rough on the road. He worked the communes and farms in Northern California. He busked the streets of New Orleans and Memphis. He ran the subways of New York City, sleeping in abandoned warehouses and constantly in trouble with the law.

Those years were a blur of highways and train cars and cities for Crockett, but they taught him how to keep moving to survive and showed him a desperate side of the country living just below the surface. And all of it fused into his music.

When he returned to Dallas in 2014 with a self-recorded album in his hand, he found a thriving music scene emerging in Deep Ellum behind artists like Leon Bridges and the Texas Gentlemen. He hustled his LP to anyone that would listen, and people took notice. (Courtesy: Red 11)

On his 6th album, The Valley, Charley is showing a unique and adept mastery of his craft. His songwriting is like none of his peers, and his sound is an homage to a classic country sound that is unique and so distinct that it can’t be confused with anyone else… ever. The album was recorded last January, just a week prior to Charley undergoing two life-saving heart surgeries. He chose to record it in Wildwood, TX at Fort Horton Studios and co-produced by Crockett, Jay Moeller, who (among many others) has played with the late, great Guy Clark, and Billy Horton, who’s list of musical accomplices lists like a rap sheet of top notch independent talent.

This new album has so many wonderful jewels to enjoy. The first song, “Borrowed Time,” currently my favorite on the album, is a rather upbeat sounding breakup song with an interesting clap track on it that is reminiscent of songs out of the 1950’s. He sings of not being faithful and how he wants to let his lady be free. The chorus is, as well, catchy and makes you want to sing along.

“You're tried and tried/ Mama, I’ve lied and lied/ It don't matter what you do/ I just can't be satisfied/ I want to be free, that's my only crime/ Loving you on borrowed time/ Loving you on borrowed time.” 

Now my neighbors look at me strangely as I drive down the road with my windows down, singing this at the top of my lungs. I make no apologies.

The second track, “The Valley,” is the title track to the album. It’s a biographical account of his life. Charley goes on to write about his mother moving the family to Dallas and how that affected him and his siblings, (presumably) for the worse. He describes where he used to live, in the Valley, when he was young and how he still sees that place as being near to his heart; when life was simple and he had no cares. “But in my mind I see the valley/ You should see the way it glows.”

“5 More Miles” is based upon the Faulkner novel, Light In. The main character, Joe Christmas is biracial, like Charley. Joe is angry, and doesn’t fit in well in either the black or white communities. The song, like Joe, is fast and dark… almost brooding, to reflect the character’s anger and aggression. You can’t really dance to this one, but from the start it compels you to follow along to hear it through.

“If Not the Fool” is a breakup song written from the one who was left, and how she toyed with his heart and left him for a fool. It has a melancholy feel, and yet, it is a great song to slow dance to. It’s a solid piece of work showing how timeless his style is. It was recorded in 2019, but could have just as easily have been recorded in 1956 and could very well have been a huge hit at that time. The song, in my humble opinion, is very visceral. And if this has ever happened to you, then you know the pain that he is singing about.

It’s amazing how different artists can play the same song, yet do it so differently that it almost doesn’t seem like the same song at all. Charley did that with “7 come 11,” a song written by Charley’s friend, Vincent Neil Emerson. Charley’s version is faster, heavier and has an aggressive beat, yet retains the darkness of love lost from the original version. It has a distorted and heavy harmonica in the background that cries and wails throughout the whole song, giving it a different feel.

Overall, this album has a richness to it that is, frankly, hard to describe. But, it’s this richness that makes the album compelling, easy to listen to, and makes listeners eagerly want more of the same. From where I stand, I think that Bob Wills would be pleased.

Charley Crockett:

charleycrockett.com