Entertainment
Stagecoach: Asleep at the Wheel a welcome (and tight) time machine
When I was a kid maybe about 8 to 10 years my dad seemed to have three and only three tapes in his custom van.
The Eagles’ “Hotel California,” something called “Champagne Charlie” by Leon Redbone, and a live concert album by “Asleep at the Wheel.”
With every road trip to grandma’s house or quick run to Radio Shack, those three tapes were on rotation and the words to those songs became more and more etched in my brain and I’m assuming the brains of my mom and brother, too.
Imagine my surprise when the 2024 Stagecoach country music festival lineup came out and there, set to play in the Palomino tent early on Saturday, was Asleep at the Wheel. I had to see them.
Instead of telling my dad, I thought maybe I’d try to surprise him by FaceTiming some of the songs during the show. I quickly gave up on that idea, imagining trying to successfully complete such an operation with the limited cumulative phonic know-how between my parents and I. Instead I would take some videos and then send them afterward.
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So I arrived at the show Saturday at 2:40 p.m. ready to see the soundtrack of my youth played out right in front of me. With the start time being that early on a hot Saturday it was a sparse crowd at the Palomino tent so I was able to be front and center which was nice. It was only a 30-minute set, and it occurred to me that they might not play any of the songs I knew by heart from that cassette tape, but the very first song was a match.
Quick music lesson: Asleep at the Wheel is a Texas swing band, so aside from the vocals, guitar, keyboards and drums, they’ve got a fiddle, a lap steel guitar, saxophones and an upright bass player. The music is crisp, snazzy and booming. Certainly not all the members of the band from that cassette tape performance 45 years ago were on the stage Saturday, but lead singer Ray Benson was and his deep, low, booming voice was a perfect match to the voice I heard in my youth.
As Benson launched into the song “Mile and Miles of Texas” and the rest of the band swirled to life behind him, it really was like stepping into a time machine.
Immediately and vividly I was taken back to that specific time. I felt like I was in the back of the van halfway to grandma’s house, probably having just poked or needled my little brother in some way that made us have to be separated.
While the nostalgia was washing over me, I almost forgot about my videographer duties, but I was able to capture most of the song on my phone. It was a good thing I did, too, because it was one of only two songs they played during their nine-song set that was on that fateful tape, the other being a cover of “Route 66.”
They left a couple of our family favs on the cutting-room floor like “Choo-choo Ch’Boogie” or the one I liked the best because it was a funny song and even as an 8-year-old I got the joke. It’s a song called “Last Meal” in which a prisoner is on death row and the warden tells him he has one last meal before they put him out of his misery. The prisoner then sneakily proceeds to order several impossible-to-make items: “Two dinosaur eggs over easy, fried in butter, not too greasy. I’ll have mosquito knees with black-eyed peas …” Anyway, you get the idea. The song crescendos before ending with a dessert, “A barbecued brick of chocolate ice cream.”
So I didn’t get to belt that one out, but I was impressed. They sounded sharp, very crisp, tight, not showing their age at all. They played a cover of “All My Exes Live in Texas” which got the now-growing crowd to sing along and put a smile on Benson’s face.
I sent my dad and mom the video of “Miles and Miles of Texas” and the one-word text response was simply, “Perfect!!!”
Accurate. It was one of those perfect life moments, as though no time had passed from riding around Michigan with my family in 1980 to standing in a polo field in the California desert in 2024.
As Asleep at the Wheel finished off their set, I was starting to think about the remarkable quality music has to transport you over time and space like that, but then the music stopped. You know what that means. Time to get out of the van, we’ve arrived at grandma’s … and stop poking your brother.
Shad Powers is a columnist for The Desert Sun. Reach him at shad.powers@desertsun.com.