Watson was born in Birmingham, Alabama. Surrounded by music in his childhood, it was almost inevitable that he would eventually pick up a guitar and start playing. “Music was always around in my family,” Watson recalls. “My dad and my brothers played – my elder brother taught me rhythm guitar, so that’s how I started out.” While Watson’s father was a guitarist of some ability, the pressure to put food on the family table put pay to any thought of a musical career. “I don’t think he regretted not being a professional musician,” Watson ponders. “He enjoyed truck driving and he also had a gas station. He loved working with his hands.”
As a teenager in the 1970s Watson’s predominant musical influences were the original country stars of yore – Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Conway Twitty and George Jones. “The stuff I was listening to was music like Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty,” Watson confirms. “At that time a lot of pop music was country music, especially trucking music.”
In the late 1980s Watson released a couple of singles on Curve Records before contemplating turning his fledgling musical career into an occasional weekend pursuit. Watson enrolled in a “truck driving school” before he was contacted by a European label offering to release one of his CDs in Europe, as well as organising a European tour. “Yeah, I was surprised when that happened,” Watson chuckles, “I was tickled pink”.
Watson had already detected a dilution in the potency of American country music in the 1980s, despite the efforts of emerging performers. “When I was heading out to LA I thought that people like Randy Travis were on the right path, but that wasn’t enough,” he says. Watson had come late to the second wave of country music that grew out of LA in the early 1970s, with artists such as Gram Parsons, The Byrds and even the early incarnation of The Eagles. “Those artists weren’t really on my radar when I was growing up,” he notes. “But it was great to see CCR and Buck Owens live. And even if you listen to early Eagles, it’s closer to the roots of country than what the stuff coming out now is.”
To identify country music travesties is one thing – it’s harder to define the critical elements of ‘real’ country music. Watson prefers to focus on particular artists than objective musical attributes. “Whatever country music you listen to you can hear its roots,” he says. “If you hear something that reminds you of Jimmy Rogers, then chances are you’ll like it.”
Johnny Cash once remarked that country music was about living and dying, loving and losing; for time immemorial country performers have explored their own personal tragedies through the prism of country song. Watson is no exception. “Sometimes you just have to live a little,” he deadpans. In 2000 Watson’s girlfriend Terri was killed in a car accident, an event that led to his own psychological breakdown. His 2008 album, To Terri With Love, both paid tribute to Terri and explored Watson’s own emotional reaction to his girlfriend’s death. Watson acknowledges that music formed an important part of his catharsis and emotional rehabilitation. “I think that’s my best album,” he says simply.
While many of the objects of Watson’s artistic ire have complained about the impact of piracy on the health of the music industry, Watson sees the internet as a positive force in his own crusade. “It levels the playing field,” he says. “My live shows in the US have become bigger because of the internet. A lot of the time people steal music, but that doesn’t matter if people are coming along to shows. The internet is definitely the best thing that’s happened to roots music.’
For a while Watson was a regular visitor to Australia, taking in the sights and sounds of the Australian country music scene. “I got to see Slim [Dusty] play, which was pretty cool,” he recalls. “And I really like Kasey Chambers. She’s got a bit of the Lucinda Williams vibe. The music is more honest, it comes from the right roots, like Hank Williams.” There is one Australian musical export, however, that Watson is happy for Australia to take back. “Y’all can have Keith Urban back,” he drawls. “And if you do, we’ll give you someone good.”
