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I’ll Never Leave These Old Horses

The ballad of Ian Tyson. By

It’s ten below zero, admiration for his art and journey. And for into the Kettle of Fish in Greenwich Village, he lives forty miles outside of town that matchless song catalogue. N.Y., and bums a cigarette off Ian. Dylan I was the kid in the front row in the 1960s grabs a guitar and sings his new song, On a ranch with three old longhorns, at every Ian and Sylvia show that rolled “Blowin’ in the Wind.” Ian says, “Hell, I can do about to give up the ghost and lay down through California. Years later, I ended up co- that,” and goes back to the Earle Hotel and He’s got five head of horses, writing songs with both Ian and Sylvia—my writes “,” voted the most not one of ’em much younger than ten heroes—including at least 10 with Ian. popular song ever written by a Canadian. Among these are: “Navajo Rug,” “Claude Dal- One of the greatest folk songs of all time. The He says, “If I sold off and left ’em, las,” “The Rose of the San Joaquin,” “The first song Tyson ever wrote! I wouldn’t be much of a man...” Banks of the Musselshell,” “Ross Knox,” and Vignette #2: It’s 1985 and I’m living in a —“I’ll Never Leave These Old Horses” “When the Wolves No Longer Sing.” boarded-up storefront in Brooklyn, scratch- He’s still up there on his ranch in Alber- ing out a living with my country band. Ian is by Tom Russell ta as I write this, walking down that gravel appearing in town and he takes a taxi over to road every morning to play his guitar and my bunker from Manhattan. We sit there and few years ago my wife and I lived in contemplate songs. He told me recently the swap stories and drink red wine, and he sings New Mexico before we moved to guitar is the center of his universe. And “The Castration of the Strawberry Roan.” I A Texas. In Santa Fe we’d built an art those old horses. talk about a few lyrics I have for a song about studio and added a little private bar in the Here’s the second verse to the song I wrote a guy and a gal making love on a Navajo rug. I shape of a Zuni Indian tower, with high win- for him: slip the lyrics into his guitar case. We’re three- dows that allowed the mystical sundown to quarters drunk now. We call him a cab back drift in over the tequila bottles. In the winter Every morning past coffee he walks up to the city. Two days later he finishes the song of 2016 Ian Tyson came down for a visit. that long gravel road in a Super 8 Motel in Dallas. It’s a number- The day he arrived it was a tolerable 60°F one country song in Canada the next year. It’s in Santa Fe and Ian frowned and remarked it To a stone house where his guitar sits, been covered 100 times. was 10 below zero up on his ranch in . waiting for stories to be told Vignette #3: We’re up in his isolated writ- We asked him why in the hell, at age 83, he And he stares out the window ing cabin in the Rockies working on a few didn’t sell the place up there and move on at a wild winter running her courses song ideas, but we’re stumped. Ian says: “Let’s down to New Mexico, get a few acres in a clear our heads and take a hike up the moun- warmer terrain. Ian answered, “I can’t leave He says: “I’ll bet it’s warm down in tain. Tell me a few stories about your brother, those old horses or longhorns.” Something Santa Fe, Pat. That’s always good for a song.” Charlie Goodnight might have said. but I’ll never leave these old horses...” My brother Pat, legendary California A week later I wrote the song about Ian, horseman, was having a rough ride with a few “I’ll Never Leave These Old Horses.” It’s on Much of what I’d say about Ian is in this women back then, and Ian decided to write the record “Folk Hotel.” song. If you’ve been on the road with him, Pat a song in the form of a letter. It starts: What can you say about Ian Tyson, this from Nevada to Switzerland and back, and if “Friend, I’m writin’ you this letter...and it’s legendary and gifted singer/songwriter, that you’ve sat across from him, writing songs in a damn sure overdue...” The song is “Cowboy has not been said, inferred, lied about, overly Rocky Mountain cabin, you’d have to damn Pride,” a cowboy hit for Ian and also for poeticized, carved down, magnified, cow- well surmise that this man, this artist, is cut Michael Martin Murphey. boy’d all to hell, and on and on? In Ian’s own from a Shakespearean mold. That night he leaves me there with a bottle words, he’s a conundrum. A riddle in a cow- I’ll conjure a few short vignettes on Ian. If of wine and Teddy Blue Abbott’s book, “We boy hat. Who really knew Hank Williams? you combine these with the old horse song Pointed Them North,” and I scribble lyric Ian has been my greatest influence as a you might arrive at a few fresh angles on the ideas. The next day we co-write “The Banks of singer/songwriter and I’ve sorta known him artist, human being, and cowboy. the Musselshell.” That night Ian toasts me, for almost 50 years. Más o menos. I have sheer Vignette #1: It’s 1963. walks “Russell, you’re the king of the whore-and-

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knife ballads.” When you reach the sad edge of love, Ian, left, and Tom in David Gahr’s studio in Brooklyn, 1987. “We were on our way to Vignette #4: Ian was our best man in Elko sometimes you jump off Switzerland for a festival,” Tom says. “Gahr was a 12 years ago when I married Nadine. Ian sang famous photographer of musicians—including Bob “What Does She See (in this Old Cowboy)?” And build new wings on your way Dylan. Gahr is passed on now. He got us to laugh by and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott sang “Rake and a back down saying: ‘Come on boys, what if Emmylou Harris was sitting on your lap!’ Of course we smiled. May have Ramblin’ Boy.” A folkloric cowboy wedding! After 84 years, kid, it’s too late been some wine involved.” Ian called Tom, “The Ian at that time was having love-affair to second-guess your choices king of the whore-and-knife ballads.” problems as his second marriage was fading away. Here’s the chorus in my song about That’s the way it played out, town—he’s 40 miles out. He’s been under the Me, I’ll never leave these old horses. him: weather. I open my show with a medley that includes his classic, “Summer Wages.” Love comes and it goes, boys, it rocks Last vignette: I was performing in Calgary Then I hear the audience gasping and and it rolls several months ago to a sold-out crowd. I looking over to my right. Ian has stumbled in And it spins you around and around called Ian. He says he might not make it into from the back alley parking lot, confused as to

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LETTERS (Continued from page 7)

a cowboy poet. I’m here to tell you that Jim Hamilton is one fine cowboy poet! If you

COURTESY TOM RUSSELL want to hear him recite his poetry, I’m sure he’ll be at the Montana Cowboy Poetry Gath- ering in Lewistown, August 14-15th. JERRY LAKODY, ST. IGNATIUS, MONTANA

Since I read every page in RANGE, it took me a while to reach the “Heroes” page. There, big as life, was the name of our hero—Dave Cobb of Livingston, Mont. Dave is from a prominent cattle family in California and provided us with a gift subscription. Never received a better gift. And never miss Lee Pitts’ column. (Believe we competed with Lee at livestock shows during our college years.) We raise Southdown sheep which has been the major livestock enterprise since 1929. Tom and Ian onstage in Calgary, Alberta, 40 miles from Ian’s outfit. BELOW: The Nevada wedding of Thank you for putting into print the con- Nadine and Tom, where Rambling Jack Elliott sang “Rake and a Ramblin’ Boy” and best man Ian Tyson cerns most of us in the livestock industry have sang “What Does She See (in this Old Cowboy)?” relating to today’s skewed attitudes on Ameri- am. There’s a blizzard outside. It’s can life and times. blowin’ like a son of a bitch out there. My JAN & HARRY MADDUX, MARIPOSA, CALIF. wrists hurt. But I’m still playing guitar every day.” MORE FORKED TONGUES He always says that I’m a lucky son I request permission to copy Chance Gowan’s of a bitch to have a wife like Nadine. I article, “Forked Tongues (and a Nasty Atti- agree. Nadine and I surmise that Ian is tude) Make Easy Money” in your Spring edi- COURTESY SILVIA VON DANIKEN still hanging on because he’s up there tion. We have wolf problems in Wisconsin fighting the northern elements, sur- and would like to pass this article on to some rounded by the creatures he loves— of the people working with this issue. whether he’s in the right joint. In fact, he’s those old horses, three longhorns, the odd JACK MCCRAW, LAONA, WISCONSIN now onstage with me four feet away. Trying to grizzly wandering through, the hawks circling Chance says, “Go ahead, and thank you.”—Ed. find his bearings. Peering out at the spotlights above. A cowboy far better off up in his wild and the audience. The soundman shoves a country than on a retirement rancho in New Just finished reading and looking at every pic- microphone in front of him and we finish out Mexico. ture in the Spring 2020 issue. As usual, a great the song together and later do “Navajo Rug” Here’s the last verse to the song: job. Chance Gowan’s story on wolves is sad to a two-minute standing ovation. but so true, a cash cow for enviros. Just a little something I noticed in your That night he gives me his highest com- Now that Santa Fe sundown pliment and tells the crowd: “Russell’s show “Red Meat” story on page 64. The 48 bales of blew me away. They’re never gonna duplicate sheds a warm, red, mystical light wool in 1964 look as though they are on a writers like Russell and me.” And he’s froze to the bone in Alberta, 1972 Chevy three-quarter-ton pickup. I think the old man finally be-knighted but he won’t quit the fight RICHARD KRAWZE, LAONA, WISCONSIN Good catch! Richard Snider was selling wool me. I worked 50 years for that. It’s been a great One old rough-legged hawk ride so far, and I’ve learned plenty from the into the ’70s so might not have noticed the dif- master. circles lower ferent truck. We sure didn’t!—Ed. As I was finishing this essay I called him. and the old man hears voices It’s Feb. 15, 2020. “Is this El Viejo ?” I say. I call He says, “I may be crazy as hell, kid, Perhaps the Republican Party should take a note from President Lincoln when a group him that—the old man. “The wise old man.” but I’ll never leave these old horses.” I’ve called him that for years. demanded he get rid of Gen. Grant because “Heh, man,” he growls. “You back in he was a coarse rough-talking man of multi- n Texas? Gonna come down there one of these Amen. ple vices and many flaws. The Republican leaders might say, “We cannot spare Trump, days.” Go to www.tomrussell.com to check Tom’s “How are those old horses?” records, paintings and new book of art, he fights.” “Those old horses are doing better than I “The Ballad of Western Expressionism.” VESS QUINLAN, FLORENCE, COLORADO (Continued on page 40)

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