Though his time with Holly might have suggested he'd follow the path of rock and roll, Jennings instead kept to his country roots, though not without difficulty. In the early '60s he moved to Phoenix, where he was discovered by Herb Alpert, who wanted to make him a folk singer. But Bobby Bare brought him to Nashville, where Chet Atkins signed him to RCA and started him along the path of standard country stardom. By the early '70s, though, he'd hooked up with producer/singer Tompall Glaser and started on his outlaw ways.
Being an outlaw was about more than drug binges and crash pads. The real issue, the idea that blew Nashville's mind, was creative and artistic control. Nashville regarded the way they did things as techniques carved in stone, and the ideas of the outlaws as heresy. Creative control was not something they gave up willingly. That's one reason why, on that fabled occasion when he was told his band couldn't cut it in the studio, Jennings opted to test Mao Zadong's assertion that power comes out of the barrel of a gun.
That West Texas approach to problem solving grabbed both the attention of Nashville and of John Lennon. "Lennon really liked that when he heard about it." Jennings says. "He wrote me this really nice letter I've still got at home that was just all over the place. Part of it was hand-written, part of it was typed. I got to meet him a couple of times after that. I was amazed at how much fun he was to be around."
What he didn't understand about Lennon was his relationship with Yoko Ono. "I never understood what he saw in her," Jennings admits. Of course, there's no more fertile field of country-song inspirations than love's curve balls. Any honky-tonk worthy of the name can supply a half-dozen relationships that make Lennon and Ono appear downright normal and stable. Even a happy, long-term involvement such as Jennings' marriage to Jessi Colter can provide enough grits of sand to produce a few pearls. The couple's first duet, 1971's "Suspicious Minds," remains both a beautiful song and a powerful commentary on dealing with jealousy. If it was a personal tale, it was obviously one they worked through.
"We have a wonderful marriage. I really don't like to go out without her," Jennings says.
The new Right for the Time features a Jennings/Colter duet that equals "Suspicious Minds." "Deep in the West," penned by Houston's Shake Russell, features the haunting, simple chorus, "Together we're one / Divided we're through," which radiates an overwhelming love. "When Jessi comes in on that song, it's just like when she comes in the bedroom in the morning and opens the curtains," says Jennings.
Sometimes, though, a country songwriter -- especially a happily married one -- has to look elsewhere for heartache. Two cuts on Right for the Time, "Kissing You Goodbye" and "Out of Jail," showcase Jennings' abilities to make a song out of an overheard remark. "Get your tongue out of my mouth / I'm kissing you goodbye" is a nifty hook Jennings borrowed from a friend's soon-to-be ex-wife, but the song's clincher is the "I-know-all-about-that-woman" sucker punch "If you ever tried to tell the truth / You'd choke yourself to death."
Even better is the chorus of "Out of Jail," which "Rainy Day in Georgia" composer Tony Joe White took from a golf partner and handed over to Jennings. "This guy had been complaining about his wife all through the game," Jennings recalls. "As they got ready to tee off on the last hole, the guy told Tony 'If I'd killed her when I met her, I'd be out of jail by now.' "
With that as its anchor, "Out of Jail" is as riotous as it is politically incorrect, and it was the freedom to record songs such as "Out of Jail" that convinced Jennings to sign with Justice after years of major-label hits and hassles. "I've always insisted on creative and artistic freedom," says Jennings. "That was something that [Justice owner] Randall [Jamail] didn't like giving me, but he gave it to me."
The result of that surrender is a CD that is fresh, yet vintage, outlaw country. Right for the Time is not much of a departure from what Jennings has been doing since the Nixon era -- which is not a complaint. Gritty, original, honest country rings as true today as it did when Jennings forced Nashville to listen to reason at gunpoint.
