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MORRISON–WILLIAMS
www.morrison-williams.com
Shayne Morrison and Clint Williams knew they were a perfect musical
match when they began collaborating six years ago after
being introduced by a record shop owner in Tyler, Texas.
Back then,
they channeled their efforts toward writing songs for
bassist Morrison's band, Perfect Stranger. Those songs never
made it onto a Perfect Stranger disc, though Williams
eventually joined the band as its lead singer.
The pair kept
writing together sporadically, and submitted a song for the
soundtrack to the 2004 film, The Alamo. When
producers chose to use an all-instrumental score instead,
Morrison and Williams decided it was time to record those
tunes on their own.
The result is
Morrison-Williams' self-titled debut on Palo Duro Records.
The disc of easy country rockers and soulful ballads could
catapult them beyond the level of fame Perfect Stranger
earned with its indie hits, the Vince Gill-penned "Ridin'
the Rodeo," and "You Have the Right to Remain Silent," which
became the title of the band's 1995 Curb Records release.
That album reached No. 4 and stayed on Billboard's country
chart for 40-some weeks.
Morrison-Williams' first single is "My Girl Friday," which
Williams wrote with Gary Leach. The lyrics are from the
perspective of a man having an affair with a woman who
strayed because her husband doesn't treat her right. The
message, Williams says, is: Be good to your wife or
girlfriend or she might run into the arms of someone else.
And she'd have good reason.
Williams
confesses, "I can only write about things I've sort of
experienced. So if there's anything on the record that I've
got anything to do with, I've probably seen it or been
through it."
Morrison, a
native of Carthage, Texas (population: 5,000), says cheatin'
songs were a staple of his country-boy upbringing.
"But," he
adds, "you've heard cheatin' songs by the cheater, and the
person cheated with. This is the first cheatin' song I ever
heard by the cheatee."
"Beautiful
Regret," a track the pair co-wrote, is another culled from
personal experience. It's a ballad that, according to
Williams, is about "fallin' in love with somebody who you
wish you'd never met, or that you didn't have to think about
the rest of your life."
Morrison
clarifies, "It's not that you wish you never would have met
Îem, it's just that you met Îem, and it's either the wrong
time, or, if your lives had gone a little differently, maybe
it would have worked out between you."
"A little
differently" might have included different careers, but when
asked if either has ever had a "day job," both practically
sing, "A what?"
Despite their
mock incredulousness, they really haven't spent much time in
traditional job situations. Morrison did milk cows in high
school, and Williams delivered pizza, then worked in the
graphics department at the University of Texas Health Center
at Tyler before quitting to play music.
Morrison got
his first paying music gig at age 14.
"I haven't
stopped since," he says. "They were sneaking me into the VFW
and American Legion. I played with all the old dudes. When
you're 14, and someone hands you a lot of money to play for
one night, you think ÎOoh, that's it. I'm doing this for the
rest of my life.'"
He also owns
a couple of tour buses, one of which he leases to country
star Jack Ingram. If Morrison's not busy, he also does the
driving. But even that could be considered a music-related
job, though he's not the one onstage.
The subject
of life's twists and turns also permeates one of their
favorite cuts on Morrison-Williams. It was written by
James "J.B." Patterson, who plays lead guitar on the disc.
(Williams plays rhythm guitar.)
"It's called
'Me Again,' and it's a lot deeper than me and Clint,"
Morrison claims with unnecessary self-deprecation.
"It's about
lookin' at yourself, and expecting that you would have done
certain things in your life that maybe you didn't get to do,
but you can still be proud of yourself for other things," he
explains. "It's just a deep look inside. It's very well
written. You can tell he experienced the whole thing."
But
Morrison-Williams is not an album full of downbeat songs
ö just thoughtful ones, set to the kinds of melodies that
hitch themselves to brain cells and remain pleasantly
attached.
"Our music's
hopefully a little different than everybody else's, and it
only sounds right when he sings it," Morrison says of his
partner, a Mineola native now living in Dallas.
They end the
disc with a rendition of Dr. Hook & the Medicine Show's
"Cover of the Rolling Stone," a childhood favorite of
"redneck band" fan Williams. He's had a lot practice singing
that one — standing on the front seat of his dad's moving
truck (pre-child restraint laws) and belting it out whenever
he heard it.
As for how
they'd describe their decidedly non-redneck music, Morrison,
who now lives in Palestine, admits, "I know we're supposed
to say country. But I don't know what kind of country to
call it."
It could wear
a progressive country tag, if strong, radio-friendly
melodies featuring the occasional guitar reference to the
Allman Brothers and other southern rockers, augmented by
mandolin, fiddle, dobro and the singers' tight harmonies,
can be considered progressive.
But there's a
shorter description that works well, too. It's Palo Duro
Records' own slogan: Country Music, Texas Spirit. |