With its homespun eloquence and hard-earned wisdom, Ray Wylie Hubbard’s music comes off as equal parts Buddha, books, and bars. The Texas songwriter has done some living and he’s never been shy about sharing the stories. Some of them are even true. And some of them fill out the minutes of The Ruffian’s Misfortune, Hubbard’s latest in a long line of musical adventures.
It’s pretty safe to say that you don’t really fit into the country music scene (particularly these days), but it’s also been suggested that you don’t quite fit the Texas songwriter mold, either. If’n you had to be labeled, how does the broader Americana box feel? Does that give you enough room to do what you do?
Well, I consider myself a old folk cat who was influenced by acoustic blues and rootsy garage rock who only liked country if it was done by the Byrds, Parsons, or Hearts and Flowers, so Americana works, but I kinda push it a little.
You dug into blues in your early 40s and have built it into your sound since then. Lately, a lot of guys in their early 20s are folding blues into their rock. What kind of person does it take to really get the blues in the right way — to be able to understand and respect the form enough to make it their own?
I feel fortunate to have seen Lightnin’ [Hopkins], Mance [Lipscomb], and Freddie King and it struck me that they were playing the blues not to be famous or rich but they had no choice. So the young blues guys I like are condemned to play them blues.
When you’re writing, do you find that setting poetic substance on top of grooving style helps get the point across?
Lyrics laid on a deep groove are a very powerful thing. Perhaps that was what was stolen from the gods after fire.
What’s the trick to crafting characters without judging them and their stories?
A beautiful thing about songwriting is that you can do the crime without having to do the time.
What has it been like to revisit and recount your life in your upcoming autobiography? No doubt you have some capital ‘S’ stories to tell.
Yeah. I am somewhat amazed that a tow-headed, barefoot Okie kid in overalls has sung “Help from My Friends” with a Beatle at Radio City Music Hall, played “Snake Farm” with Joe Walsh setting in, got kidnapped by Willie Nelson, played poker with Freddie King and Bugs Henderson, drank homemade chalk beer with Mance Lipscomb, got stiffed on a lunch check by Colonel Tom Parker, did Letterman and Fallon, got 12-stepped by Stevie Ray [Vaughn] and… and bunch other stuff… (no capital S stuff though since i don’t use the shift key).
This article originally appeared on Folk Alley.