Winsor Harmon
Stars of Texas
Kick Records
By David Pilot
 With
apologies to Waylon, don't you think this Texas Music bit's done
got out of hand? Pick up Winsor Harmon's debut effort, Stars
of Texas, and you will. Who's Winsor Harmon? Ask your wife.
She's eyeballing his chiseled physique on "The Bold and
the Beautiful" every afternoon while you're trying to fight
shy of the horizon line on the Cubicle Prairie, hopin' your boss
won't hand you another project that'll keep you tied up for the
weekend. Your wife knows Winsor was voted sexiest man on "Bold
and the Beautiful." And while being a paragon of the Hellenic
ideal for male beauty doesn't necessarily mean one can't sing,
it most certainly does mean one's got a tough row to hoe the
minute the jones for the spotlight and a microphone sets in.
It takes a substantial amount of talent supported by a Promethean
work ethic to overcome the pretty boy moniker. Whether your better
half will admit it or not, the same rules apply to the fellas
that apply to the Shanias of the world. Sometimes, even if it
ain't fair, you're just another pretty face.
Harmon works hard to get past that hurdle, and almost clears
it a time or two before this record's over. He's got the cash
to put a slick-sounding product together, and it's readily obvious
he went to the well for this debut. The results are pristine
to the point of sterilization; this is music that has as much
in common with sawdust floors and worn hands as Nuevo Laredo
does with Lower Manhattan. One can't say it's not "good,"
whatever that is, at least not off the cuff. Production is tight,
the breaks and bridges clearly the result of practiced studio
hands offering foundational backing for the vanity project at
the mic. In other words, it's fluff, but it's finely crafted
fluff.
Cleverness is apparently an afterthought; witness the leadoff
track ostensibly about the usual pining for the girl next door.
Miss one sterling couplet and the whole point of the song gets
lost:
I'm headed for the girly bar
To cool my heels and heat my heart
Yep, Friday night love. It's a beautiful thing, as evidenced
by the remaining lyrics:
Oh Megan, I'm beggin'
You to be my girl
Oh Megan, I'm beggin'
You to be my girl
"Stars of Texas" is a bit more palatable, but still
comes off as a calculated paean to those Lone Star denizens who
actually believe they're special just because they live here
but couldn't give you the first reason for the birth of authentic
Texas pride. Harmon penned this track himself, so maybe the cynic's
reaction should be softened by the acknowledgment of a fledgling
songwriter's early efforts at earnest homage. Either way, title
tracks by definition should be ready for prime time and this
one isn't.
Thankfully Winsor didn't do much writing here; the bulk of
those chores are split between Craig Bartock and Harmon's wife
DeAnna. Bartock offers up a ready-for-mainstream-radio potential
country hit with "All That I Can Give You Is Goodbye,"
a painful snapshot of a love that went down in the ecstasy of
another's bed. Music Row loves songs like this, and here for
the first time Harmon shows some exceedingly capable vocal ability.
On the downside, fans of the '80s hair bands will recognize both
lyric and musical similarities to the Jani Lane-penned "I
Saw Red," a chilling and beautiful ballad from Warrant's
Cherry Pie. You decide whether that's a credit to the
writer or a damning indictment of what passes for country music
up in Nashville these days.
DeAnna Harmon, on the other hand, seems most capable of originality
within the bounds of the Nashville formula. A rock singer/songwriter
by day, she easily bridges the gap to McGraw-land with "Thief."
Another cheating song, this time from the perspective of last
night's male partner seeing this evening his paramour held close
by her husband on the dance floor. Hmm. Where'd that ring come
from? While not a timeless or even particularly piercing dissection
of the emotions a cheating man can feel when he first realizes
he's been cheated as well, it's a prettily written ballad and
certainly could strike a chord if the situation's right.
Most of what's left is safe and mindless dreck, and might
be excusable under the guise of drive-time radio fare if another
of Bartock's gems hadn't made the program. "A Man Like Me"
just isn't the sort of song that's going to sit well with Texans,
and it's safe to say that makes its inclusion a mistake on an
album purportedly rooted in and created for the betterment of
those who choose a life south of the Red.
My skin ain't weathered from the wind and snow and rain
Don't drink no whiskey, baby, I got champagne
Don't drive no pick up truck, I like Mercedes Benz
Why don't you just climb on in and let's be friends
Big horse, big hat, they ain't all that
Girl that's just some fantasy
If you want love I got the stuff
Girl, you need a man like me
Safe to assume Winsor Harmon won't be playing Cowtown or the
Houston Rodeo anytime soon with lyrics like that. Probably works
well in L.A. or in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge, but it
just won't fly anywhere a working man's buying his beer. Simply
impossible to fathom how this song wound up here, unless one
reads the press kit accompanying this debut. Harmon tells a story
about his wife's trepidation when he first tested her willingness
to write him some country songs. DeAnna was nervous, given her
rock background, and not sure she was up to the task. Said Winsor,
"Honey, take it from a guy who grew up with country music
It's simple! You get drunk, your heart gets broken, and you drive
away in your truck. Just throw all that together and start writing
lyrics!"
Hell, if they'd even stuck to that palsied formula, Stars
of Texas would be a far better album than it is.
* Tell your wife she can see her hero all gussied up in a
silk shirt and Stetson at www.winsorharmon.com. You, on the other
hand, are better off getting roped by your boss than putting
this travesty in your CD player. Unless, of course, you're a
Kevin Fowler fan. In which case Winsor Harmon's debut actually
serves to give your hero some credibility.
Contact David Pilot at: tailgunner-at-rockzilla.net
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