An epic tale of sex, drugs, and country music almost 40 years in the making, Gary I Am From the Honky-Tonks is the eighth and final biography by Jimmy McDonough ( Neil Young’s Biography, Tammy Tragic Country Queen), America’s greatest chronicler of popular culture.
An unsung hero of 20th century American music, Gary Stewart is regarded as one of the most talented singers, songwriters, and vocalists of his generation. In the mid-1970s, crazed hits like "She’s Actin' Single (I'm Drinkin' Doubles)" and "Drinkin' Thing" rocketed Stewart up the charts and earned him the admiration of Bob Dylan, The Allman Brothers, Tanya Tucker, and more. Within a few years, he had flamed out and all-but-vanished from the music scene. Until Jimmy McDonough barged his way into the spooky, Florida doublewide Stewart was hiding out in, beginning a four-decade obsession with the elusive musician.
Utilizing the unique combination of oral history, vivid prose, and personal experience that made McDonough’s Neil Young’s Biography a bestseller, Gary I Am From The Honky-Tonks follows a feral Kentucky family who surfed success and rear-ended disaster in drug-soaked, 1970s Florida. At its core is the tempestuous, tragic love story of Gary Stewart and his wife, Mary Lou, that will leave readers haunted long after they turn the last page.
This book is kind of like what it would be like if “The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia” took place in the Nashville in the ‘70s and ‘80s. Gary Stewart seems to have come from the same cultural milieu as the family portrayed in the above mentioned documentary, but he had the singing genius to put down on wax some the most beautiful songs in the entire country music genre.
I can see why Jimmy McDonough became obsessed with Stewart’s music in the ‘80s. I have become obsessed myself with the sheer beauty of songs like “In Some Room Above the Street,” “Out of Hand,” “Drinkin’ Thing” and especially “Quits” (none of which Stewart wrote). There is something about Stewart’s voice on these recordings that is other-worldly. And one good thing McDonough does is emphasize the role of producer Roy Dea and the crack Nashville musicians that helped make these records possible. These guys were serious craftsmen, and the recordings that Dea and Stewart did in the ‘70s are just so beautiful – among the best Nashville ever produced.
While much of this book chronicles the details of Stewart’s descent into drug abuse, it also does a good job of relating the pitfalls of fame. Country music fans are a loyal bunch, but once it is over, it is OVER. I am a big fan of Conway Twitty and Johnny Cash, but once the ‘80s rolled in you could hardly GIVE their records away. (I know, as I worked at a major NYC record store in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s). Stewart suffered the same fate, but he never reached the superstar status of Twitty or Cash because he had contempt for the Nashville machine. You can say Nashville didn’t ‘get’ Stewart, but like in most any other show biz gig, if you don’t play the schmoozing game you are not going to reach the heights. (Stewart charted a good number of great songs in the ‘70s, but had only one Number 1).
There is a very nice photo of Stewart and his wife partying with Tammy Wynette and Willie Nelson in this book, and this brings to mind one of the faults I found with this otherwise fine biography: it is that McDonough does not write enough about the other country artists of the ‘70s and Stewart’s interactions with them. Yes, we see him touring with Charley Pride and playing in London, and Nelson has a few reminisces of playing with Stewart, but I cannot remember any passages in the book where we see Stewart as being a part of the country music renaissance, how he fit in generally and any gigs that might have stood out for some reason (other the disastrous ones at the end). That country music “Outlaw” phase was pretty prevalent in the ‘70s, and Stewart was considered part of it. Perhaps Stewart’s hatred of touring and insistence on living in Fort Pierce, Florida negated any significant friendships with the other Nashville artists. (I would have loved to know what his wife, Mary Lou, thought about hanging with the stars).
It is clear in a number of places throughout “I Am From the Honky Tonks” that Stewart came from a wild breed. The passages on his brother Gerald are particularly eye-popping and I was happy to see the Sackler family and Purdue Pharma being called out for their role in inundating the country with OxyContin, which gripped Stewart and his wife in a strangle-hold.
Nearly half the book focuses on Stewart’s downfall, either from his massive drug intake or his inability to find his musical form from the late ‘70s onward. McDonough’s passages on the ill-advised pairing of Stewart with singer and songwriter Dean Dillon are very poignant. These sound like bad records indeed, and Stewart is so wasted by this time he does little to help his record company promote them. I did enjoy reading at how vital the movie “Urban Cowboy” was to Stewart’s career as so many new theme-park honky-tonks popped all over Texas, providing Stewart with a loyal audience up to the time of his death. His popularity with Native Americans was also a major factor in providing Stewart gigs.
It is so sad to read about Stewart trying to find the magic again in the studio, but his RCA recordings from the ‘70s are lightening in a bottle – the perfect song meeting the perfect producer and musicians and Stewart sealing the deal with his supremely beautiful vocals. He had a number of people dedicated to looking after him, but the family tragedies overtook him. On reading about the suicide of Stewart’s son, Joey, (who was certainly a confused young man), I was curious to know what the location of the motel where he took his life looked like. Being the year 2026, I found the motel online (McDonough provides the address in the book), and was struck at how bleak, how suicide-inducing, Fort Pierce might have looked to him. So much of the modern American landscape is so ugly that I cannot think it is not a factor in the zeitgeist of our time.
Check out Gary Stewart’s music when reading this book, if you are not already familiar with it. You will easily see why Jimmy McDonough tracked Stewart down in the ‘80s in order to write a profile on him for the Village Voice and how his obsession with his music never died. Regardless if it was one of McDonough’s intentions in writing this book or not, I certainly hope it brings Gary Stewart’s records (the good ones) back to the forefront. I really hope to see “Quits” or “She’s Actin’ Single (I’m Drinkin’ Doubles)” get in regular rotation on Willie’s Roadhouse some day soon.
Jimmy McDonough is one hell of a writer. I must say, as silly as it sounds, I came to this book with absolutely no.knowledge of Gary Stewart. I raved to a friend about another of McDonough's books, and he recommended this. I Am From the Honky-Tonks is a superb Highly- recommended.