Never have given half a rip for country music, as country music is today, all truck-lovin’ light-beer bros in over-styled cowboy hats gulping on the last note or two to get it to twang. But Merle Haggard. Now, Merle Haggard.
Deeply grateful I once got to interview this raucous gem of a man, by phone, and he was the full-on genuine article even when he hardly needed to be, with some angry coffee-amped elitist at a hippie mountain indie rag.
I got off the phone and thought: That was something, folks. That was what a legend sounds like. That right there was something.
The world, it sometimes seems, loses far more good than it ever gets in return.
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