By BILL FRISKICS-WARRENMAY 17, 2016
©NY Times
Desperados Waiting For A Train...early live
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFb1lGMvS3I
NASHVILLE — Guy Clark, who along with Townes Van Zandt, Jerry Jeff Walker and others patented the rugged, imagistic brand of narrative-rich songwriting that became associated with the Texas troubadour movement of the 1970s and ’80s, died on Tuesday at his home here. He was 74.
His death came after a long illness, including a 10-year struggle with lymphoma, said his manager, Keith Case.
Mr. Clark’s recordings never received much airplay on mainstream radio, but his treasury of songs, including “L.A. Freeway,” an FM radio favorite as recorded in 1973 by Mr. Walker, was as indelible as that of anyone working in the Americana idiom in the last decades of the 20th century.
“Guy is the kind of writer who is too strong to fade out,” the singer John Hiatt said of Mr. Clark in a 2013 interview in American Songwriter magazine. “His songs will remain long after he does. They get in your heart and mind, and they become part of you.”
Mr. Clark’s songs have been recorded by scores of musicians, including progressive country singers like Ricky Skaggs, who had a No. 1 country hit with “Heartbroke” in 1982, and Rodney Crowell, who in 1988 reached the top of the country charts with “She’s Crazy for Leavin’,” a song he wrote with Mr. Clark.
Vince Gill had a Top 10 country hit with Mr. Clark’s “Oklahoma Borderline” in 1985, and Kenny Chesney made Mr. Clark’s “Hemingway’s Whiskey” the title track of his 2010 album.
Johnny Cash, Emmylou Harris, Willie Nelson and Brad Paisley, among others, also recorded Mr. Clark’s songs. Singer-songwriters like Steve Earle and Mr. Crowell looked to him as a mentor.
His songwriting evinced not just a keen eye for narrative detail but also an unerring ear for spoken vernacular and a wry, existentialist bent akin to that of Kris Kristofferson or John Prine.
In “Desperados Waiting for a Train,” one of a handful of originals now regarded as standards from his 1975 debut album, “Old No. 1,” Mr. Clark reminisced about a grandfatherly figure at whose feet he used to listen to stories as a boy. Writing through the eyes of childhood, Mr. Clark describes the old-timer in almost mythic terms as “a drifter and a driller of oil wells, and an old-school man of the world” who is confronting his mortality.
I’d play the “Red River Valley”
And he’d sit in the kitchen and cry
And run his fingers through 70 years of living
And wonder, Lord, has every well I drilled gone dry?
We was friends, me and this old man
Like desperados waiting for a train
For the brooding title track of his 1995 album, “Dublin Blues,” Mr. Clark used an unlikely juxtaposition of images to effect an arresting shift in perspective — in this case, casting an old mountain folk song in a shimmering new light.
“I have seen the David, I’ve seen the Mona Lisa too,” he sings over a simple folk-blues melody. “And I have heard Doc Watson play ‘Columbus Stockade Blues.’”
Even his novelty songs, including paeans to down-home culinary delights like “Texas Cookin’” and “Homegrown Tomatoes,” were singular in their humor and tone.
“Stuff that works” is how Mr. Clark alluded to the rustic images and folk tunes that defined his body of work in his 1995 song bearing that title. “Stuff that’s real, stuff you feel,” he sang in a gruff, half-spoken baritone, “the kind of stuff you reach for when you fall.”
Guy Charles Clark was born on Nov. 6, 1941, in Monahans, a small town in West Texas. His father, Ellis, was a lawyer, and his mother, Frances, worked for a time in his law office.
Mr. Clark’s grandmother, who ran a 13-room hotel, also played a major role in his upbringing. Some of her guests later appeared as characters in his songs; one was Jack Prigg, who became the old oil speculator in “Desperados Waiting for a Train.”
The Clarks moved to Rockport, on the Texas Gulf Coast, when Guy was 16. He joined the Peace Corps in 1963 and studied briefly at the University of Minnesota before opening a guitar repair shop in Houston in the mid-’60s. It was around that time that he began performing in clubs and formed lifelong friendships with Mr. Van Zandt and singer-songwriters like Mickey Newbury and Kay (later known as K. T.) Oslin.
Mr. Clark’s marriage to Susan Spaw ended in divorce. Their son, Travis, later played in his father’s band. Mr. Clark moved to San Francisco in the late ’60s, returned to Houston and then moved back out West, to Southern California, where he worked in the guitar factory of the Dopyera brothers, who patented the Dobro model resonator guitar.
Mr. Clark’s second wife, the former Susanna Talley, died of cancer in 2012. She was a painter (and occasional songwriter) whose rendering of the Pleiades constellation in the night sky graced the cover of Willie Nelson’s 1978 album, “Stardust.”
In 1971, the couple moved to Nashville, where Mr. Clark signed a publishing deal. They were married there the next year. A photograph of Ms. Clark appears on the cover of Mr. Clark’s album “My Favorite Picture of You,” which won a Grammy for best folk album in 2014.
Mr. Clark released 13 albums. He was elected to the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2004 and was the subject of “This One’s for Him” (2011), a Grammy-nominated tribute album featuring contributions from admirers like Lyle Lovett and Mr. Prine.
In addition to his son and two grandchildren, Mr. Clark is survived by two sisters, Caroline Dugan and Jan Clark.
A laconic though riveting musical storyteller, Mr. Clark was adept at getting at the heart of an experience or an event.
“I really work hard at being true,” he told American Songwriter magazine. “And that’s where the uniqueness of the songs come out. I couldn’t have made them up.”
