PRE-1959: juke box folk?

Billboard’s country music charts sort of go back to 1944, and though it’s impressive that there’s still a record at all, the record is a bit of a mess.  For one, the category was called Juke Box Folk, an indicator of how differently popular music was consumed once upon a time.  And the inaugural #1, “Pistol Packin’ Mama,” charted on the strength of two different versions of it: Al Dexter’s, who actually considered himself a country singer, and Bing Crosby & The Andrews Sisters, who almost certainly did not.

The procedure of counting multiple versions to one chart ranking seems to have died out quickly, but the chart soldiered on honoring an eclectic mix of artists that are still considered time-honored country stars (Al Dexter would be back in 1944, along with the chart debuts of Ernest Tubb and Red Foley) and artists that no one would consider part of the country music genre or tradition.  Nat King Cole and Louis Jordan both scored #1s, perhaps a precursor to Ray Charles eventual run at the country charts, although by 1945 the non-country acts seem to have been at least temporarily shuffled off, perhaps nudged aside by an influx of Western Swing from Bob Wills and Spade Cooley.  Between those two, their contemporary Tex Williams, and singing cowboys like Tex Ritter and Dick Thomas, one can see how the designation “country and western” once made a lot of sense.  “Eastern” country singers, for lack of a better word, like burgeoning stars Merle Travis and Eddy Arnold, would go back and forth at the #1 spot.  Arnold would pretty much have 1948 all to himself, staying at #1 for the vast majority of it before 1949 brought serious competition in the form of legend-in-the-making Hank Williams and less-remembered singing cowboy Jimmy Wakely for one last gasp of the “Western” side of things (eventual superstar Marty Robbins and various ‘70s “Outlaws” not included).

In 1950, Billboard at least temporarily decided to make their own job harder, offering up three separate charts for the increasingly viable country music industry to keep up with changing times.  The Juke Box chart remained, with new ones added on for Record Sales and Disc Jockeys (i.e., radio airplay).  There was a lot of overlap, with the same songs and artists often scoring #1 on all three at some point; big year for Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, and Red Foley, with eventual superstars Lefty Frizzell and Hank Snow making their debuts as well.

The three-charts approach endured through mid-1957, when the Juke Box list was axed, with Marty Robbins’ jaunty lament “White Sport Coat (And A Pink Carnation)” as its final #1.  In October of the following year, Billboard finally consolidated the two remaining charts into what it called “Hot C&W Sides.”  The combined chart’s first #1, Ray Price’s “City Lights,” would hold onto its spot for the remainder of the year.

None of this is meant to dismiss the bulk of the 1950s for the various country music charts, or the genre and business in general; it was a period of wild growth and change, full of records that would endure and artists that would go on to be legendary.  Hank Williams soared to chart domination and immediate influence and then died young: his chart presence didn’t immediately disappear, but without new music to be made and a superstar to tour in support, it soon left room for new stars and styles.  Artists like the aforementioned Price and Robbins and Don Gibson, Hank Thompson, Webb Pierce and others would stake longtime claims.  Early rock & roll – or at least the southern Caucasian wing of it – would infiltrate the charts in the person of Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, and the Everly Brothers, most of whom would find an ongoing home there after less country-influenced artists took over the rock genre.

But the chart consolidation, for purposes of this blog written by a life-long fan but part-time-at-best journalist, gives me the same opportunity for concentration as it apparently gave the industry at the time, taking on the chart’s history one song at a time to honor the classics (or take a little piss out of them when appropriate), spotlight the forgotten (justly or otherwise), and try to make a little sense of the trends inside and outside the genre that fueled the various ascensions of people trying to make art (or at least hits) that either fit inside the once-rustic little box of country music or expand what it could mean.  Hope you enjoy reading about it as much as I enjoy writing about it.