Skip to main content

The Bakersfield Sound

In this episode (177) – The Bakersfield Sound coming to you from Curry Village at Yosemite National Park . . .


Johnny Owens and the Bakersfield sound? Yes, I realize this might not be for everyone; however, vacation must contain a surprise now and then, some unplanned events.


It was Saturday, October 22, 2022, and we celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary; now, we’ve been married for 34 years - but we’ve heard the 50th is always special, so we celebrated in a very unusual way - in Bakersfield!

We had everything packed and ready for this year’s Yosemite adventure and decided to leave one day early. No reservations for the night, but oh well, we’re sure to find something. At around 5:00 p.m., we rolled into beautiful Bakersfield, CA. Yes, I’m being sarcastic. Not wanting to drive another three hours to Fresno and ready for dinner, we pulled off the freeway and found a room for the night.

“Well, what would you like to do for dinner?”

“Since we’re in Bakersfield, isn’t this where Buck Owens, the country-western singer-songwriter who helped establish the Bakersfield sound, lived and played Country music for many years? During our trip to Nashville, we never heard any country music. There must be some bar that plays live music. It is Saturday night!”

“Yes, there’s the Buck Owens Crystal Palace, but really - do you want to go there?” said Lori.

“We’ve never stopped here before; why not. It’s something we’ve never done.”

“Do you have reservations for dinner? Was the hostess’s first question? All of our tables are booked. However, if you are willing to climb two flights of stairs, we can seat you at a service counter.”

“Do I look that old?” I responded. Absolutely, whatever you have.”

By now, many of you are probably wondering, so what is the Bakersfield sound?

According to Wikipedia, the Bakersfield sound is a sub-genre of country music developed in the mid-to-late 1950s in and around Bakersfield, California. Bakersfield was the first sub-genre of country music significantly influenced by rock and roll, relying heavily on electric instrumentation and a strongly defined backbeat. It was also a reaction against the slickly produced, orchestra-laden Nashville sound, which was becoming popular in the late 1950s.

The Bakersfield sound became one of the most popular and influential country genres of the 1960s, initiating a revival of honky-tonk music and influencing later country rock and outlaw country musicians.

Wynn Stewart pioneered the Bakersfield sound while performing artists Buck Owens and Merle Haggard became two of the most successful artists of the original Bakersfield era while performing with The Buckaroos and The Strangers.

So for this year’s anniversary, we spent the evening with Johnny Owens and his band “The Bakersfield Sound.” Buck Owen’s youngest son played originals and many of the classic tunes from Waylon Jennings and Buck Owens. Buck Owens Crystal Palace is a living tribute to that bygone era.

I’m Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. I’ll see you in the next episode.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

A B+ Kind of Life

Welcome back to this week's On the Fly . Retirement has taught me something unexpected: life gets a lot more enjoyable when you stop chasing perfection. Lately, I've been having an absolute blast playing executive par-3 courses like Rancho Carlsbad . A short iron, a sunny morning, and nowhere to be except the next tee—that's my kind of day. This Thursday, though, I'm raising the stakes. I'm heading to The Links at Lakehouse in San Marcos, a full-size par-71 course with enough water hazards to keep the local fish well-stocked with my golf balls. After shooting a 64 on a par-3 course, I've set myself a new goal: shoot an 89 before my birthday next August. Why 89? Because on a par-71 course, that's bogey golf—one extra stroke per hole. For non-golfers, think of it this way: par is like earning 100% on a final exam. Bogey golf is a solid B+. You got the job done, learned something, and probably had a lot more fun getting there. The older I get, the more I appre...

Resurrecting the '90s Graphite

Let’s face it, there’s a certain danger in reading John Gierach's Trout Bum . His wit, self-deprecation, and sharp, effortless satire are entirely infectious. If you aren't careful, his words will inspire you to drop everything, wade into a freezing river, and try to outsmart a creature with a brain the size of a lentil. In my case, re-reading Gierach recently didn't send me straight to the river. It sent me digging through the dusty, spider-guarded corners of my garage. In the early 1990s, seeking a natural escape from Manhattan's concrete canyons, I decided to learn to cast a fly rod. I bought an Orvis Rocky Mountain —eight-and-a-half feet, three ounces, built for a five-weight line—and had absolutely no idea how to use it. To avoid aimlessly whipping the water like scrambling eggs, I took fly-fishing lessons from Al Cucci, co-author of Hatches , on the Delaware River. With his guidance, I fished renowned waters: the AuSable in New York and Michigan, and New Jersey...

Morning Coffee

In this episode, Morning Coffee . . . Now, I’m not saying everyone needs coffee. Some folks get by just fine on, I don’t know, sunlight and positive thinking. Me? I’m pretty sure I started drinking the stuff sometime around the Reagan administration. Reading John Gierach’s "Ode to Campfire Coffee" in Trout Bum (a book that should be required reading for anyone who sees sleeping on the ground as recreation) got me thinking about how we’ve managed to complicate something as fundamentally simple as boiling water and adding grounds. Taste, you say? Look, black coffee is an acquired taste, like tequila or cilantro. I just don’t get it. Gierach, bless his heart, mostly drinks his java streamside, probably while wearing wool socks and waders and contemplating the mysteries of the universe. As for me? My outdoor coffee experience is a bit different. Picture this: the High Sierra, where campfires are banned (to avoid agitating Smoky Bear), and I’m huddled over a Whisperlite , coax...

The Endless Work of Wisdom

It always makes me smile. The moment people learn I've officially entered what I like to call the Great Un-Working (retirement), they almost immediately ask the same question: “So . . . What do you do now?" I think they're expecting me to say I'm restoring a vintage sports car, hiking the John Muir Trail, or finally becoming fluent in French.   Instead, I tell them: "I live life deliberately." That's usually the point when I get a polite nod, followed by the unmistakable look of someone wondering whether I've simply found a more sophisticated way to say, “I’m becoming a bum.” Apparently, "living deliberately" sounds suspiciously like unemployment, just better branding. The truth is, what living deliberately looks like for me right now is taking time to synthesize a lifetime of experiences into these weekly reflections. It's slowing down long enough to ask what those experiences have taught me, while keeping the door wide open to the poss...