There’s been a lot less class in this world since Floyd Tillman died, at age 88, last August 22. Tillman was such a maverick that he still doesn’t really get credit for all his achievements. He was one of the first to play electric guitar, and his jazzy, single-string work jumps and swings simultaneously. His behind-the-beat vocal style influenced Willie Nelson. He’s one of the fathers of Texas honky-tonk music, and his “Slippin’ Around” popularized the previously-forbidden cheating song; he also wrote such standards as “I Love You So Much It Hurts” and “It Makes No Difference Now”.
But Floyd essentially walked away from stardom around 1950 after seeing what it was doing to Hank Williams. He played and recorded irregularly after that, seldom anywhere but Texas, so history quit paying attention to him. If he minded, it rarely showed; Tillman was a true Texas iconoclast, both contrary and agreeable in all the right ways.
I wish I could tell you he sounded as good as ever on this disc of duets with guest stars. But the truth it that his unmistakable voice was deteriorating rapidly in the last year of his life, and he often exaggerates to make up for it. His vibrato and his phrasing, which depend on his ability to stretch a single syllable into several swooping ones, thus sometimes come off more as a tremble, bellow or disjointed cry; he sounds like he’s slipping on a bar of soap as he leans into the mike.
But there are other moments, such as his work with Connie Smith on “I Love You So Much It Hurts”, when he sounds as soulful and in-control as ever. And producer Justin Trevino compensated superbly for Tillman’s diminishing skills.
Except for alternating between Johnny Gimble and Bobby Flores on fiddle, the same band of Texas mainstays plays all the way through the disc: electric mandolinist Gimble, steel guitarist Dickie Overbey, lead guitarist Dave Kirby, rhythm guitarist Levi Mullen (plus Tillman), pianist Floyd Domino, bassist Trevino, and drummer John Reynolds. They recorded twenty of Tillman’s favorites with him, and then duet partners were given their choice of which they wanted to sing.
So we get a surprisingly robust Mel Tillis joining on “It Makes No Difference Now”, and a down-home Leona Williams on “Let’s Make Memories Tonight”. Tillman’s duet with Willie Nelson on “Each Night At Nine” is sublime, and you need only hear how carefully various partners worked on their harmonies to understand that they weren’t simply going through the motions out of charity.
As for Floyd, face it, his voice was always an acquired taste, one of those sounds that separated the hard-country fan from the casual appreciator. There’s still real feeling here, even when his singing is technically subpar, and I’m fascinated by how he reinterprets chestnuts such as “This Cold War with You” (with an especially eloquent Merle Haggard), “They Took The Stars Out Of Heaven” (with Johnny Bush), and “I’m Still In Love With Every Girl I Knew” (with Trevino). I’ll take the autumnal Floyd Tillman any day, and if you’re already a fan, you might feel the same way.