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- Big John Mills and the Texas Road Dawgs
Honky-Tonks and Neon Lights
Road Dawg Records
By David Pilot
 Big John Mills looks
like your old buddy from college, the one that hung out at the
edge of the crowd until it was time for a cannonball contest
or a joke to break the ice with the sorority girls. You remember
him, the one guy everybody loved to talk about but didn't think
to buy a case for on his birthday. Turns out Mills' music fits
that stereotype as well. And oddly enough, that's a compliment.
For starters, although he won't win prizes for homespun creativity,
Mills knows his way around the roadworn basics of a good country
song. And he's sporting a tenor running toward a Strait level
of smooth that could turn the local government's office directory
into a ballad for the ages. Witness the clichéd but
lovable "Jim Beam & Jack Daniel's (Wrote my Favorite
Songs)" for proof. And he does know how to turn a phrase
when it's called for, as evidenced in "Read Between The
Lines":
In the race for love
I fell far behind
When I read between the lines
There's nothin' there
That's a nice honky tonker, but when the lights go down and
the milk cow starts humming some blues, it's as pure country
as can be and "Today Ain't Your Day" says Mills has
it down stone cold. The Leland Martin tune gets a capable run
through its paces, and the steel guitar cries Cowtown with an
aching beauty that's worth the price of admission on its own.
And there you have the story of this 2002 release. Mills
is an accomplished singer, an artist with a voice that finds
its way without need of a steady rein. When a Lone Star stalwart
like Clay Blaker does slide in to produce, as happened here,
the results can be astounding. There are times when this record
reminds of the halcyon days of yesteryear when Emmitt and Michael
and Troy roamed the turf at Texas Stadium. Why? Because then,
when the 'Boys were great, it wasn't a question each Sunday of
whether they would win It was a matter of how much they'd smoke
'em by. And fans here in Dallas/Fort Worth just took it all
for granted. The greatness came so easily that its brilliance
was overshadowed. And while Honky-Tonks and Neon Lights
might not classify as great, per se, the core truth remains -
- this is a record that manages so easily to sound so good that
if you don't pay attention you'll miss it altogether. Feel free
to borrow someone's copy and cue up "One Little Lie"
if my word's not good enough. If you don't like that track,
bubba, you don't like country music. Not that there's anything
wrong with that. It would mean, though, that you'll hate "There's
A New Outlaw in Heaven," a duet with Tommy Alverson that
pays tribute to Waylon in a manner Old Hoss would have loved
to raise a beer to.
All told, this is a nice comfortable little record that'll
come smack outta nowhere and cold cock you with greatness when
you're not looking. It's not innovative or lyrically original
enough end-to-end to rate as highly as, say, a Lonesome Bob,
but it's perfect for pickup trucks on gravel roads and coffee
black. In other words, it's Texas, y'all. It's dancehalls
and neon, the backwater beerhalls where line dancing might get
you killed and a scuffed pair of Justins amounts to your cover
charge. If you haven't heard Big John Mills, you've missed
a chance to travel the farm to market roads under a rolling thunderhead
at midafternoon. The good news, if you're reading this, is that
you're still breathing and still have a chance to saddle up for
this ride. From the big pines to the Permian Basin it's worth
every damn second.
www.bigjohmills.com
Contact David Pilot at: editor-at-rockzilla.net
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