Here's an excellent article on Whisperin' Bill's resurgence from this
week's Nashville Scene:


On the Right Track 

Straight-shooting Anderson maintains solid career after four decades 

By Michael McCall 

No other performer spans the growth of the Nashville music industry in
quite the same way as Bill Anderson. His career goes back 40 years,
starting in 1958, when he wrote "City Lights" for Ray Price. Mere months
later, he became a hit-maker in his own right. What's even more impressive
is that these days he's a successful songwriter once more, turning out
tunes for a whole new generation of artists. 

"I first started coming here at the tail end of the hillbilly era,"
recalls Anderson, who was a 19-year-old college student in Georgia when he
penned "City Lights." "I remember seeing them pull their Cadillacs up to
the old Clarkston Hotel and strap the bass on top and take off. I did some
of that--I've ridden in a car with a bass fiddle on my lap." 

After "City Lights," Anderson wrote hits for Jim Reeves, Eddy Arnold,
Kitty Wells, Porter Wagoner, and dozens of other country stars. By 1960,
he had joined such luminaries as Harlan Howard and Roger Miller in helping
to build the city's booming publishing business. Besides the
often-recorded "The Tip of My Fingers," which became a top-10 hit for the
fourth time when Steve Wariner revived it in 1992, Anderson created such
country classics as Connie Smith's "Once a Day" and Lefty Frizzell's
"Saginaw, Michigan" (the latter cowritten with Don Wayne). 

As a performer, he worked with producer Owen Bradley, blending rural
homilies and Southern morals into smooth, contemporary musical settings.
With hits like "Still," "Po' Folks," and "Mama Sang a Song," he drew on
classic country themes yet gave them a modern sheen. 

With Bradley's help, Anderson learned how to use his limited vocal range
to convey the quiet emotions packed into his well-crafted lyrics--hence
his nickname, "Whisperin' Bill." His countrypolitan sound played a big
part in moving country away from the raucousness of Webb Pierce, Faron
Young, and Carl Smith toward the smoother sounds that dominated the '60s. 

Then, as now, Anderson owned a conservative, low-key style and "didn't
hang out as much as some of 'em," he says. Cordial and helpful, he carried
a poise and a sense of responsibility that set him apart from many
hard-living country music types. 

That's why, in addition to recording 37 top 10 songs between 1961 and
1978, he was able to adapt so well to television. Besides hosting a
syndicated country music show, Anderson struck away from the pack and
started appearing regularly on daytime TV. He began with appearances as a
guest on Match Game, Hollywood Squares, and Family Feud. From there, he
became the first country star to host his own game show, The Better Sex,
as well as the first with a recurring role on a soap opera, One Life to
Live. 

"I never started out to do any of that," Anderson says with a shrug. "But
the opportunities were there, and I said, `Why not?' " Such work not only
augmented his career--it extended it. In 1982, after 23 years, Anderson
left MCA/Decca, and he decided to give up songwriting. "The industry was
into a real pop kind of sound," he says. "I had a little trouble
identifying with that. So I quit writing." 

Instead, he used his television experience to become a central figure on
The Nashville Network, then a fledgling cable station. He hosted a
music-trivia game show, Fandango, and helped develop the You Can Be a Star
program. He eventually became host of the Saturday-night Opry Backstage
show, on which he is still a regular. 

Several years ago, when Wariner scored a hit "The Tip of My Fingers,"
Anderson felt "inspired to get back into writing again." It was the right
move: Anderson has become one of Music Row's hottest, and most unlikely,
hit tunesmiths of the late '90s. In addition to cuts by Vince Gill, Bryan
White, Lorrie Morgan, Wade Hayes, and Rick Trevino, he currently has two
of the fastest-rising songs on the country charts: Mark Wills' "Wish You
Were Here" and Steve Wariner's "Two Teardrops." 

Moreover, his newfound resurgence earned him the chance to record a
major-label album for the first time in over 15 years. His recent Warner
Bros. release Fine Wine features classic Anderson-style recitations, along
with reflections on the values of love and the pitfalls of modern life. 

"I'm having so much fun," he says. "I had never written like they do
today. They make appointments and meet at the office at 10 a.m., write for
a while, go to lunch, come back. It's like punching a time clock. 

"Writing used to be a lonely profession; it was something you did at night
with the shades pulled down. You'd see how miserable you could get, then
you'd write a song. I didn't cowrite much, because I thought nobody would
understand me because I was weird. But it turns out it's fun to get with
people and see that they're coming from the same place you are." 

Still, Anderson worries about today's country music business. "They play
it so safe," he says. "The industry is in such an
`oh-gosh-we-can't-offend-anybody' mode. I liken it to a football team that
only plays defense. Well, you can't score if you don't play offense, and
you can't score big if you don't take some chances." 

In short, he says, executives, programmers, and consultants exert too much
influence on writers and performers. "Today the record companies tell the
artists who they are instead of the artists telling the record companies
who they are. I think we're losing something there. When I was starting
out, if you didn't have your own style, forget it. Today it's the
opposite." 

Anderson's advice is worth pondering, and it's timely too: This week,
members of the industry meet for the annual Country Radio Seminar at
Opryland Hotel. "I remember a song I wrote for Cal Smith back in the '70s,
`The Lord Knows I'm Drinking,' " he says. "I knew we were going to run up
against some walls with that song. But I also knew in my gut that if that
song got out, people would really identify with it. It was put out, and it
became a really big song that year. I think we may be missing those kinds
of songs now." 

Of course, as the industry moves forward, Anderson will be there,
reminding everyone of the music's values, its timelessness, and its
purpose. His nickname might be Whisperin' Bill, but his influence
continues to echo loudly. 

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