Lacking the benefit of a glass slipper, winning lotto ticket, or knight in shining armor, Womack's story unfolds with a somber uncertainty and a measure of alienation befitting any song by Hank Sr., Merle, or Waylon. Like Tammy Wynette, one day Womack just packed up her things and showed up on Nashville's Music Row. With no money for a baby-sitter, she pushed her young daughter, Aubrey, in a stroller up and down the sidewalk, dropping off tapes, looking for demo work, and praying that someone would notice.
Womack eventually landed a record deal and had her first success with tunes such as “Never Again, Again,” “The Fool,” and “Little Past Little Rock.” Buoyed by her accomplishments, the relentlessly determined singer would ultimately see even brighter days with the release of I Hope You Dance (MCA Nashville, 2000), the defining moment of her career to date and the vehicle that rocketed her closer to wide-ranging stardom.
Hailed as one of the first truly great country recordings of the new century, I Hope You Dance is Womack's third album and her first for MCA. Beyond the title track, which was penned by Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers, the record taps the songwriting skills of some of Nashville's best and brightest. Rodney Crowell, Don Schlitz, Bobbie Cryner, Buddy and Julie Miller, Bruce Robeson, and Ronnie Bowman all lent their efforts to the cause, the sum of which one critic proclaimed to be “Nashville at its most poetic and profound … a moment where the best in everyone rises, then soars.”
For Womack, I Hope You Dance leads listeners in two directions. “There's always been a mix of real traditional and bluegrassy things inside of me,” she says in her Southern schoolgirl's voice, which somehow transforms onstage into a compelling presence marked with both a vulnerable, crystalline power and raw sonic punch. “But that doesn't mean I don't have a contemporary side too. With I Hope You Dance, I wanted to push both sides out and see just how far country music could go and still be country music.”
Against an underpinning of emotive string textures and an antiphonal chorus (contributed by fellow Texans Sons of the Desert), Womack saturates every syllable of the title track with tenderness and compassion. The song projects itself across a wide range of circumstances common to the human condition, whether they're found in a relationship or in parents' wishes for their child. Elsewhere, Bowman's “The Healing Kind” features harmony vocals by Ricky Skaggs, and Buddy and Julie Miller's “Does My Ring Burn Your Finger” sears across a frustrated landscape with Appalachian anger. Crowell's “Ashes by Now” is a roots-and-funk-flavored survivalist's guide to betrayal, and “I Feel Like I'm Forgetting Something” (written by the singer with Jason Sellers and Wynn Varble) proves Womack can honky-tonk Buck Owens-style with the best of them.
Backed by her band, 911, Womack undertook an ambitious touring schedule in 2001, playing the George Strait Country Music Festival for the third year in a row and performing an eclectic assortment of state fair, shed, and theater dates. Fueled by much more than a simple desire to perform, the energetic singer seems to deliver two parts stamina for every ounce of considerable talent packed into her petite frame.
It is apparent that Womack is the genuine article at a time when country has more than its share of artists who'd prefer to explore their crossover potential. Could she be the heir apparent to Dolly Parton, as some have suggested? Onstage asks the friendly and open Womack that and much more.
In live performance, is conveying emotion as important to you as a song's lyrical content?
Absolutely. Even if a person doesn't speak English and isn't able to understand the words, I'd like to think they could walk away from my show with the feeling of each song. That's a traditional part of making country music and something I always strive hard to do well.
Lately you've played in just about every kind of venue imaginable. Is it difficult to make the transition from small theaters to something like the George Strait Country Music Festival?
No, it's not difficult at all. It's very exhilarating being a part of the big shows with all the different acts.
Environments like the Strait Festival feature so many bands that no one has time for a sound check. Does that have an effect on your ability to perform?
Not really. You just know that at those kinds of shows, that's how things are going to be. Just like anything else in life, there are good things and bad things about every venue we perform in. I do, however, really love the small theater shows we do. There we can take the time to get the sound just the way we want it. Plus, it's more intimate. My music is made for listening, and the people who come to theater shows want to listen. I love playing for them.
When you have time for a sound check, how do you take advantage of it? Is it a time to jam with your band or practice new material?
I have a number of real traditional country musicians in my band, so we all know these old songs — shuffles and stuff. During sound check, we'll just start calling off tunes and doing them. Other than that, a lot of what we do depends upon the nature of the show that night: different instruments will need to be checked and whatnot, and we'll go through them one by one. Overall, however, there are no set rules on how we approach this kind of thing. We like to keep it open.
Given the ever-changing nature of the venues in which you perform, does your setlist differ dramatically from one town to the next?
Oh yeah, definitely. When we're in theaters, we pull out the all-acoustic set, which includes upright bass. We certainly can't and don't want to do that in the bigger places.
What was it like to switch from wedges to in-ear monitors?
It was definitely a transition — not just for me, but for everyone. When you first put in the earpieces, you miss a lot of that air moving around you; it's a different ambience. But as a singer, they really help when it comes to saving my voice, because I no longer have to sing louder to overcome the wedges at my feet. I'm at the beginning of what I hope will be a very long career, and I'd like to take care of my instrument. I find that I'm more on the mark pitchwise as well, so the positives clearly outweigh any negatives encountered while making the transition, and that's why we made the switch.
You mentioned it's easier to establish pitch with in-ear systems. Beyond that and saving your voice, what else do you find has changed in your onstage mix?
It's easier to separate my vocal from everything else. That's important to me because there's no standard stage mix that I like. It changes from song to song. My monitor engineer [Lee Baird] gives me what I want on each song, and sometimes he places instruments in there that have been pitch referenced, and then I'll cut some of the other instruments out. I'm definitely not the kind of performer who only needs the monitor engineer to set it up once and then leave everything the same the whole show.
Do you communicate with your monitor engineer while you're performing?
No, we work through all of that at the beginning of the tour together, and then he knows what I expect for any song we may do. With a little time, it gets to be instinctual.
You've been wireless for quite some time now on vocals.
That's really an issue of freedom. I like to be able to move around without feeling like I'm attached to some kind of umbilical cord. And these days, the technology has advanced to where the performance of my wireless mic is comparable to wired systems.
As I look over the setlists from your recent shows, I can't help but be knocked out by the writers who provide your material. They are some of Nashville's finest, including Rodney Crowell, Don Schlitz, Buddy Miller, and Bobby Cryner.
I love their stuff! I'm a huge Buddy Miller fan. I try to be as good as Buddy Miller or Rodney Crowell, but I never will be. But I still love their stuff, and if I can do it fairly well onstage, I enjoy bringing their music to the people. Before I sing something Buddy wrote, I'll actually tell the crowd, “This is a Buddy Miller song; go find his record and listen to him do it!”
I Hope You Dance
features the Sons of the Desert, the Lonesome River Band, and a host of other stellar Nashville names. Because the record has been so well received, fans at your shows expect to hear songs from the album. You can't tour everywhere with Buddy and Julie Miller, and Ricky Skaggs, so how do you successfully bring the tracks to the stage?
A lot of that is up to my band, and you know, I've said many times right before we walk onstage, “I don't want to hear one lick from the record.” I mean, why should every song sound like the record? There are things we play live that sound better than the record. I don't sing things the same way every time, so I certainly wouldn't expect my guys to play the same way every time.
Are you the show's musical director?
[Laughs.] There are about eight musical directors for this show.
That could make your arrangements rather spontaneous.
At times they are. I have a bandleader — my bass player, Brett Beavers — but really everyone is responsible for adding things here and there. I hire only really good musicians, so I would be completely remiss if I didn't let them stretch out and play.
Okay, now I'm going to be your musical psychiatrist, and you're going to do a little free association. Tell me what comes to mind when I mention the following instruments.
Okay, go.
Fiddle.
I want three of them, not just one. I love multiple fiddles; you can do so much with the harmony parts.
Electric guitar.
When I think of electric guitar, I think of power. There are so many sounds it can make and things it can be used for.
Steel guitar.
Lonesome, mournful, doleful …
Banjo.
I actually play banjo a little bit, but I'm not good enough. I don't consider myself a banjo player that would play in front of people, but I love it. There's no place for it in what I do right now, but who knows what the future may bring.
Who are your main influences?
Oh my, this list is going to be long: Patsy Cline, Tammy Wynette, Merle Haggard, George Jones, Buck Owens, Etta James, Ella Fitzgerald. As of late, Buddy Miller, Rodney Crowell, Ricky Skaggs, Vince Gill … and oh yeah, backing up for a minute: Nat King Cole, Tony Bennett, and Dean Martin.
Dean Martin? How did he influence you?
I think it all started because I liked his movies — you know, the ones with him and Jerry Lewis. I became a fan of his acting; then I fell into his music afterwards. I love his voice and phrasing.
Ah yes, the Dean voice. “Loose as ashes,” as Bing Crosby once described it. Now, what's this about you being the next Dolly Parton?
Yes, people keep drawing those comparisons. All I can say is that I love her. She's extremely talented in more ways than just one, and she's very smart. If I show even a fraction of her intelligence when it comes to guiding my career, I'll be grateful. What's really impressive is her songwriting ability, and she's a very good businesswoman.
What are your feelings regarding the increasing cross-pollination between country and pop?
I don't spend my time looking around or listening to what other people in this business are doing musically. I just focus on what Lee Ann Womack is doing and the kind of music I want to make. I try to compete with myself, and when it comes time for me to make another record, I'll listen to my old record, decide what needs to be done, and do it. For me there are only two kinds of music: good and bad. I just want to make sure I make the good kind.
What do you think is best for the evolution of country music as a genre?
People ask me all the time how I plan to help define country. I don't think there's a way you can define the music. I can only say I've listened to an awful lot of it ever since I was growing up, and I will try to help take care of the music and make it last forever. I'm not going to even try to say what needs to happen or what's missing from it.
You're a wife and mother of two, your career is skyrocketing, and the industry continues to heap accolades at your feet. Do you have it all?
Personally and professionally, I don't think anyone will ever have it all. If you are driven like I am, you always want more, and you want to do better in all areas of life. That's what I spend my time doing, just trying to get better.
One last question: Do you pay a price in freedom with success?
I'm not really sure, but maybe I'll find out.
