Jericho (Joe Ely/Butch Hancock)

Yet another from Joe Ely’s Honky Tonk Masquerade album, written by his buddy Butch Hancock. I’ve already done posts about a bunch ofsongs from that album, and from Joe’s other records, some of them written by Butch, some by Joe: “Boxcars,” “Because of the Wind,” “West Texas Waltz,” “Row of Dominoes,” “Me and Billy the Kid,” “Wishing for You…”

I’ve said it all before: Joe was a seminal artist for me, first on record and then live, many times, in all kinds of formats. I interviewed him several times, hung out with him a little, drove him to the airport once. I loved his music, liked him a lot as a person, was pleased that he liked Narcocorrido, was pleased that he recognized me when I turned up at shows, and dragged a lot of other people out to see those shows, because they were incredible.

I don’t think I ever learned this song, in the sense of sitting down and trying to; I just listened to that album enough that at some point I realized that I knew it. I don’t ever recall performing it onstage; it’s always just been something I played for my own pleasure. I don’t remember if I always played it with the Latin/Caribbean rhythm and half-assed rasgueados, but it makes sense for the same reasons it made sense when Joe started touring with a flamenco guitarist. The Texas sound has always been heavily Mexican, with a Gulf Coast/Caribbean tinge. (In fact, that Spanish/Mexican feel is a lot of what makes the “Western” part of Country and Western sound different from the eastern/Appalachian part.)

As for the lyrics, Butch often gives a twist of wry humor to failed romances, and sometimes even ridiculous humor: “I went through such a hassle trying to learn myself to float/ Cause every time I stormed your castle, I’d wind up in the moat.” That’s gorgeously silly, both the idea and the use of language, the “hassle/castle” rhyme and “learn” for “teach” — a classic bit of American slang that I grew up with from my father’s memories of Brooklyn.

So, to sum up: just a song I’ve been playing for almost fifty years, because it’s fun.