As wild as his career has been, at this stage -- after almost a decade of playing it so safe that his music has sounded like an empty golf course -- Jerry Jeff Walker has guts. No, that's not a cheap shot. Willie and Waylon may have gotten most of the credit, but Walker was the man who really brought country music, particularly Texas country music, to the rock generation. His 1970s records were nothing less than revelatory and had the ability to bring a lot of disparate people together. In the 1980s, he lost his way and made a caricature of himself; in the 1990s, at least in the early to middle part, he put out a series of records that showed the old magic in places. Here, Walker does the unthinkable, the most radical thing he's ever done, and comes up with an album that sounds more like a Jerry Jeff album than anything since 1980. For Jerry Jeff Jazz, the man and his small band -- Mitch Watkins and Tommy Nash on guitars, Steve Meador on drums, bassist Spencer Starnes, and Walker on vocals only -- took two days to record 14 classic American jazz standards and pop songs. How classic? Gershwin's "How Long Has This Been Going On?" and "But Not for Me," Sammy Cahn's "I Fall in Love Too Easily" and "Time After Time," Rodgers & Hart's "My Funny Valentine," the Adair/Dennis gem "Everything Happens to Me," and Hilliard/Mann's "In the Wee Small Hours," among others. Chet Baker, Sinatra, Tony Bennett, even Dino Martin are heavy influences here. Vocally, Walker doesn't measure up, but as a stylist he's singular. In other words, like all of the aforementioned singers, Walker makes these songs his own, even when he's flat occasionally and his voice quavers in the upper registers -- because Walker's now almost a bass rather than baritone vocalist after a lifetime in honky tonks -- or he rolls through the phrasing. Walker manages to imbue these fine tunes with a sense of romance, good-time sensibility, and only a modicum of sentiment. He sings them naturally and simply has a fine time, which makes the entire album an absolute pleasure to listen to. The band swings, floats, and punches through the mix wherever necessary and helps him out when the vocal is particularly tough. While purists will no doubt savage such a labor of love and delight, everybody else -- those who've loved Walker's work off and on over the decades and those who love to hear a unique stylist sing a good song -- will find Jerry Jeff Jazz to be its own swing of delight. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Gypsy Songman is a very good 28-song overview of Jerry Jeff Walker's career, concentrating on his lesser-known songs. The compilation is divided between originals and eight covers, all of which are performed with his signature laidback style. ~ Thom Owens, All Music Guide
If you like sappy songs, honky tonk humor and a Texas twang, this is the album for you. Far too regional to have ever reached a popular audience, this 1994 Rykodisc CD captures live a band having a good time. If you can get past the overdone sentimentalism of songs like "Keep Texas Beautiful," you should have no problem listening to the fun tracks on the CD, like "Movin' On." ~ Jeff Crooke, All Music Guide
After Too Old to Change, Jerry Jeff Walker went into a creative slide -- albums like Cowjazz and Reunion were embarrassing for an artist of his stature -- that existed until he signed with Rykodisc, and even then on Gypsy Songman, and this set has Walker playing some of his older tunes redone with modern production. But on both records, particularly here, Walker is clearly in the midst of a creative renaissance. Hill Country Rain kicks off with a stunning freewheeling anthem in "Rock & Roll My Baby" in which he restates his claim to the outlaw throne. Walker's obsession with fusing his brand of country with his adopted home in the Caribbean drenches "So Bad Last Night," but it works better than anything Jimmy Buffet has written in the same vein for over two decades. The plaintive cover of Steven Fromholz's "Singin' the Dinosaur Blues" blows away the original and could have been written by Walker himself. In any case, Fromholz should never play it again after this. The place of pan pipes feels a bit strange but adds immeasurably. But it's Walker's own songs that ring the truest. Accompanied by the Lost Gonzo Compadres -- Gary P. Nunn is missing, but Lloyd Maines is present -- plainly put, Walker writes his ass off here, from "Time to Stay Home," with its moving account of wisdom gained from a lifetime of being a gypsy songman, to the moving and tender "Last Night I Fell in Love Again" and on into "To the Artist." Walker's decades of war stories have evolved into a bittersweet wisdom. Even the recordings of "Curly and Lil" and the title track are fresh and new, wringing new truths from the old words. This is a record about songs, not about Walker's myth; here is a place where art and the truth converge, and listeners are lucky to encounter them both in his work once again. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide