Lefty Frizzell - Biography
by Charles Reece
Other than Hank Williams, no singer is more closely identified with, or more directly responsible for, the sound of classic country than Lefty Frizzell. The themes of cheating, rambling and boozing were all well-established by the time he arrived on the scene, but the laid-back delivery in which he would slide between notes on a single vowel with that slightly nasal tenor of his has become the most readily identified style of the genre. He applied a crooner’s versatility to the hard country sounds and subject matter of the honky-tonk. What became abstracted generic emulation for some later singers (and, thus, easily caricatured) was authentically and uniquely embedded in his own troubled existence. Whether written by him or someone else, Frizzell rarely recorded a song about a subject that had not been personally experienced. As with Orson Welles’ role in film history, it was the singular way many pre-existing factors came together in Frizzell’s songs that established the template, which so many others would follow.
The first of eight children, William Orville Frizzell was born on March 31, 1928, to Naamon and A. D. in Corsicana, Texas. Naamon was an oilman, but the onset of the Great Depression in the following year had him looking for whatever kind of work, wherever he could find it, to support his rapidly increasing family. He had a bit of success in the timber industry in El Dorado, Arkansas, which is where Sonny (the family’s nickname for young William) spent his early years. As World War II raged and the timber jobs began to dry up, Naamon joined the Air Force Corps, which positioned him in Greensville, Texas. The name “Lefty” came from a surprise left hook the right-handed boy used to win a schoolyard fight. With his father away, the eldest son became the man of the household, dropping out of school to pursue work. In 1943, once Naamon’s first allotment check came in, the entire family joined him in Greensville.
Before returning to Texas, Lefty Frizzell had begun singing professionally as an adolescent, with a regular gig on the El Dorado station KELD. His father had played in a band entertaining his fellow workers back in the oil-mining days, and passed on a love for country music to his children. Lefty grew up listening to his parent’s collection of Jimmie Rodgers 78s. While Rodgers remained his primary inspiration throughout his life, it was a combination of honky-tonk crooners Floyd Tillman, Ted Daffan and Ernest Tubb that contributed the most to Frizzell’s vocal style. He spent his Greenville years developing a following by touring Texas and the Southern region (including Arkansas, New Mexico and Las Vegas), playing nightclubs, radio shows (as on KPLT in nearby Paris, Texas) and the occasional talent show. It was while touring through Sulphur Springs, Texas, that he met Alice Lee Harper, whom he married in March, 1945; both were 16 years old.
As suggested in his song, “Love Lost Blues,” their marriage was anything but smooth, bordering on the pugilistic. Frizzell’s philandering began on their first date when he left Alice to meet with two female fans, and continued throughout his life. Alice accepted a certain amount of infidelity as a matter of being with a traveling musician, but was not averse to throwing a few punches when Frizzell or his groupies pushed it too far. She was incredibly forgiving when, in Roswell, Arizona, he served 6 months in county jail for statutory rape; Frizzell was 19 and the girl, 14. Frizzell was not yet a star, so the papers were more concerned with the recent UFO sighting. While serving his time, he expressed contrition by penning one of his most popular songs, “I Love You In A Thousand Ways.” Alice was a good deal less forgiving when Frizzell was arrested again in 1951 backstage at the Grand Ole Opry and charged with the misdemeanor of contributory delinquency. The charge resulted from a tryst he had with a girl who showed up at his hotel door after a show with Hank Williams in Little Rock, Arkansas earlier that year. Frizzell’s manager, Jack Starnes, paid off the right people, and the charges were dropped, but his marriage became increasingly combative during the 1950s. With Frizzell’s fame came notoriety, and Alice felt shame at having her friends and family know about her husband’s indiscretions.
By 1950, Frizzell had developed a large regional following by regularly playing on the Louisiana Hayride (a more daring radio rival to the Opry) and at the club Ace of Clubs in Big Springs, Texas. It was through his friends at the club that he made contact with Jimmy Beck, a producer with his own up-and-coming Dallas studio. Frizzell paid Beck an “audition” fee of $100 to record a few ballads, including his 1947 jailhouse apology, “I Love You In A Thousand Ways.” However, Beck was unimpressed with both the songs and the voice, asking him to write something more upbeat. After a few hours, the singer came back with what would be his signature honky-tonk classic, “If You’ve Got The Money, I’ve Got The Time” (eventually covered by over 40 artists). Beck was more interested in establishing himself in Nashville than promoting Frizzell, but sensed the song’s potential. Beck pitched the song to Little Jimmy Dickens, who turned it down, but the demo caught the ear of Columbia Record’s chief A&R man, Don Law. He signed Frizzell to the label in 1950 and would remain the singer’s biggest supporter in Nashville until Law retired.
Not only did Frizzell’s first single, “If You’ve Got The Money, I’ve Got The Time” go to #1 in 1950, but its B-side, “I Love You In A Thousand Ways” was equally successful. The record sold over half a million copies in 2 months, with each side remaining in the top slot for 3 weeks. In order to capitalize on this success, Law had Frizzell go back into the studio to record his next single, just 17 days after the last single’s release. Following the earlier strategy, a ballad, “Look What Thoughts Will Do,” was paired with what used to be called a novelty song, “Shine, Shave, Shower (It’s Saturday).” Although both songs hit the top 10, it was the latter B-side, which gained the most cachet in the jukeboxes.
By mid-1951, with a newly formed backing band, The Western Cherokees (led by rhythm guitarist, Blackie Crawford), Frizzell was at the beginning of his most commercially successful period. In addition to both sides of his previous single, 5 more of his songs hit the top 10 in 1951, 3 of which kept him at #1 for half of the year: his third and fourth 45s, “I Want To Be With You Always” and “Always Late (With Your Kisses),” respectively, plus “Give Me More, More, More (Of Your Kisses)” a little later. “Always Late” remains Frizzell’s most stylistically representative song, with each of the 2 titular words never receiving less than an added syllabic tone, but sometimes as many as 3. While the songwriting is not his best, the delivery alone makes for one of his most memorable songs.
In October, he and Columbia celebrated his record for having the most singles in the country top 10 in one week: “Always Late” at #1, “Mom And Dad’s Waltz” at #2, “I Want To Be With You Always” at #7 and his version of Jimmie Rodger’s “Travelin’ Blues” at #8. Frizzell was outselling Hank Williams at the time, flipping a coin each night to see who would go on first during their tour together. It was Williams who convinced him to accept the Opry’s offer to join their prestigious radio program. Frizzell was then living in Beaumont, Texas, with Alice and their daughter, Lois Aleta (born in February, 1946). The weekend trips to Nashville to play the Grand Ole Opry, plus the ancillary concert appearances they required of their performers during the week, resulted in Frizzell’s spending even less time at home than his already hectic tour schedule had allowed. With a new son, Ricky Rodgers (born in December, 1951), and the guilt he felt over his infidelities — brought to a head by his second arrest — Frizzell left the Opry after only 8 months. His increasing dependency on alcohol (whiskey and vodka being his drinks of choice) only served to exacerbate the troubles he had with Alice when back in Beaumont.
Despite the great commercial success he was enjoying, his finances were in no better shape than his home life. His lackadaisical approach to the business side of music had been a source of constant stress since signing with Columbia. Frizzell tended to apply ink first, ask questions later, so when he had asked Don Law for help in sorting out his financial woes back in early 1951, the two discovered that the singer had contractually given away over 100% of his earnings. Frizzell had initially signed away partial songwriting credit to his producer, Jimmy Beck, on most of his earliest songs (including “If You’ve Got The Money, I’ve Got The Time”) with 25% of whatever was made from live performances. He had also concurrently signed away his publishing rights to Jim Bulleit, an agent promising to help Frizzell get signed to Columbia, even though the label was already interested. Beck and “Uncle” Art Satherly — a Columbia executive (famous for discovering Gene Autry among many others) — concocted a shady scheme that freed Frizzell from the Bulleit contract while dividing all of his future earnings with the two of them, all three men becoming equal partners. When Beaumont club owner Jack Starnes, Jr. supplied Frizzell with a bit of alcohol and a promise to rid him of Beck, the singer signed another contract. It is not quite clear how Starnes did it, but both Beck and Satherly took $500 each and stepped aside (although Law continued to use Beck’s studio until the latter’s death in 1956). Frizzell was then stuck paying 50% of his earnings to Starnes as his manager.
Commercially, 1952 was another great year for Frizzell, with a string of top 10 hits: “How Long Will It Take (To Stop Loving You),” Don’t Stay Away (Till Love Grows Cold),” “Forever (And Always)” and “I’m An Old, Old Man (Tryin’ To Live While I Can).” He also had a chance to pay tribute to his idol by recording a 10” album of Jimmie Rodgers’ songs (Songs of Jimmie Rodgers, 1952-Columbia). He was far from satisfied, though. After an ill-fated tour of Canada, Frizzell fired his band, the Western Cherokees, and had attempted to fire Starnes, only to be served with a lawsuit by his erstwhile manager. The ordeal was settled out of court, but not until a year later and at great mental and financial expense.
Frizzell had only one top-10 song in 1953, “(Honey, Baby, Hurry!) Bring Your Sweet Self Back To Me,” but his profligate spending continued unabated — that is, until the IRS caught up with him. In addition to his wife’s furnishing their Beaumont home with all the latest styles and conveniences, he had purchased an 8-passenger Cessna airplane (at Starnes’ suggestion) and, as his brother David put it, bought a new Cadillac every time the old one needed an oil change (or when he had totaled the previous car). Frizzell’s heavy drinking started to affect some of his live performances to the degree that he’d turn over singing chores to his sideman, Freddie Hart, for a few songs. The IRS investigation left the Frizzell family broke, requiring the sale of their Beaumont home. After a brief return to Sulphur Springs, Frizzell got back on his feet with a successful tour using musicians from the Louisiana Hayride.
Frizzell relocated his family to Los Angeles, California in 1954, where he would regularly appear on the television show, Town Hall Party, until it went off the air in 1960. He had his last top-10 hit for 5 years with Onie Wheeler and Troy Martin’s “Run ‘Em Off.” Although his songwriting was drying up at the time, Frizzell managed to set many precedents for country music. He was the first country singer to wear rhinestone-encrusted suits designed by the Russian-Jewish tailor, Nudie Cohen. It took a bit of coaxing from Cohen, but once Frizzell saw how his female fans reacted to the flashiness of the initial suit, the design requests became more and more elaborate. In 1955, he performed the first all-country concert at the Hollywood Bowl and was the first country performer to receive a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. His last hit for the next 4 years was “I Love You Mostly” (#11).
Years of hard drinking had left Frizzell bloated and looking a good deal older than he actually was in 1956. His relationship with Alice was as tumultuous as ever, but they had their third and final child, Marlon, in December of that year. For the next few years, Frizzell was neither recording nor touring as much as he had been due to what he felt was a lack of support from Columbia. However, the lack of promotional support was likely just as much the result of his reticence towards hiring a new manager after his previous contractual entanglements. Any management duties often went to a trusted band mate, such as his former fiddle player, Abe Manuel. As enervated as Frizzell was during this period, he still managed to lay down a few classic recordings, even if they did not chart: his own seminal honky-tonker, “Just Can’t Live That Fast (Anymore)” in 1956, a duet with Johnny Bond on Tex Atchison and Eddie Hazelwood’s “Sick, Sober And Sorry” and another duet with Shirley Caddell on George Cherry and Wayne Walker’s “No One To Talk To (But The Blues)” (the last two recorded in 1957).
Along with having Frizzell cover a variety of songwriters, producer Law was trying just about anything to reverse the steady commercial decline of his star, including the use of different studios and rerecording older songs in the then popular countrypolitan style (which were released on The One and Only Lefty Frizzell, 1959-Columbia — the second full-length LP of the singer’s career, following 1953’s collection, Listen to Lefty). It was with Marty Robbins’ panegyric to lovesick vices, “Cigarettes And Coffee Blues,” that Frizzell returned to the charts in 1959 (#13). Through his relationship with Jim Denny’s Cedarwood Publishing Company in Nashville, he was introduced to a remarkable new songwriter, Marijohn Wilkin. Frizzell’s recording of her and Danny Dill’s “Long Black Veil” went to #6 later that year and has since obtained the status of masterpiece. Frizzell’s doleful rendering is more subdued than usual, with few vowel-bendings, but the slight teeth-whistle following every final sibilant s makes the song all his own. These hits did not solve Frizzell’s money problems, however. He had earned his notoriety as someone who drunkenly blows performances, so promoters were justifiably reluctant to hire him. With his brother, David, Frizzell was currently playing anywhere that would have him (even including a furniture store).
In 1960, when his brother left for the air force and Town Hall Party closed shop, Frizzell moved his family to Henderson, Tennessee, just North of Nashville. He began to tour and record more, which would finally pay off with his take on Don Wayne’s story-song, “Saginaw, Michigan” in 1964. The song spent 4 weeks at #1 and was ubiquitous that year, earning Frizzell his only Grammy nomination. He and Columbia capitalized on this success by quickly releasing an LP with the hit single as its title track. Frizzell was once again receiving top billing on his tours and financially in the black. This level of success would not last long, though. After achieving another hit with Harlan Howard’s “She’s Gone, Gone, Gone” (#12) in 1965, Frizzell would manage to break the top 40 two more times. The most significant stylistic change in his music during this period was the addition of Abe Mulkey’s harmonizing, which is prominent on the aforementioned single, as well as throughout the 1965 album, The Sad Side Of Love (Columbia). Mulkey was co-writing many of the songs at the time and remained Frizzell’s touring partner and confidante for the rest of the latter’s life.
After Don Law retired from Columbia in 1967, Frizzell became increasingly weary of the music industry; he barely toured and stopped writing altogether. His wife had found God, and decided to separate from him on the advice of her preacher. Frizzell was dropped from his label in 1972, only to be picked up by ABC Records later in the year. Despite a case of writer’s block, this was the year that he was inducted into the Nashville Songwriter’s Hall of Fame. It was his friendship with songwriter Sanger D. “Whitey” Shafer that reinvigorated Frizzell. Either on his own or as a co-writer (with Frizzell or another songwriter, such as Dallas Frazier), Shafer had a hand in writing the majority of the songs that appeared on the singer’s final two albums, The Legendary Lefty Frizzell (1973 ABC) and The Classic Style of Lefty Frizzell (1974 ABC). Both records were critically lauded, even if they weren’t major commercial successes. “That’s The Way Love Goes,” “Lucky Arms” (#21) and “I Never Go Around Mirrors” (#25) from the 1973 album are now considered significant additions to Frizzell’s classic oeuvre, as is “Falling” (#50) from the 1974 release. “That’s The Way Love Goes” became a #1 hit for Johnny Rodriguez in 1974 (as well as a #8 hit for Merle Haggard in 1984). Unfortunately, Frizzell’s health was worse than ever, brought on by his alcoholism. Refusing to take medication for his hypertension, as it interfered with his drinking, he died from a cardiac arrest in Nashville on July 19, 1975 at age 47.
Hank Williams did not live long enough to have his myth challenged by the vagaries of popular culture. Contrariwise, Frizzell’s career went through some low points, but his influence and legendary status were firmly established in the styles and minds of the major country stars coming up in the 1960s. A producer had to tell George Jones to stop imitating Frizzell. No stranger himself to appropriating his idol’s approach to singing, Merle Haggard wrote a tribute-song about how his first time on stage was due to an invitation from Frizzell (“That’s The Way It Was In ‘51”). In 1977, Willie Nelson released an entire album of Frizzell’s songs (To Lefty, From Willie, Columbia). More recognition came in 1982, when he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. His influence continues to be heard in the country revivalism of George Strait and Randy Travis.
