Jackson may not know the difference between Creed and Ludacris any more than he knows the fine points distinguishing those pesky regimes in Iran and Iraq. But he does know who's following in the bejeweled tradition of Hank, George, and Merle, and who's just a rhinestone cowboy redux. It's not that he has it in for all newfangled forms of country -- he'll stick up for Shania, just because she's a mold breaker -- but his traditionalist POV is crystal clear in establishment-prodding protest tunes like the formula-satirizing ''Three Minute Positive Not Too Country Up-Tempo Love Song,'' the crossover-spoofing ''Gone Country,'' and his searing duet with George Strait, ''Murder on Music Row.'' ''It's hard for me to sit here and complain,'' he says. ''I've been doing this for 12 years and they're still playing my records. But I know if I were a young artist today making the same records, I'd have a hard time getting a deal and getting airplay. And my stuff's basically no different from what Hank Williams was doing in the '50s.''
Part of it is ageism that even his relative youth hasn't always been enough to overcome. ''I was on tour a few years ago and had one of the legends opening for me'' -- he won't say which one -- ''and a couple of radio stations wouldn't promote shows that had an old act on there. They were trying to sell their image as the new young hot country,'' he chortles disgustedly. ''That was pretty sad.''
The moment that forever made Jackson a hero in many fans' minds came during the 1999 CMAs. George Jones had been asked to shorten the on-air performance of his nominated song ''Choices'' to under a minute. He chose to stay home and play Possum instead. During the broadcast, Jackson -- evidencing that prankish gene he inherited from Daddy, if not a latent neo-outlaw streak -- paid spontaneous tribute to the absent Jones by stopping cold in the middle of his own number and breaking into ''Choices.''
''I was sitting at home watching the show,'' says the 70-year-old Jones, ''and when he did that, I come up out of my chair. That shows he takes up for his peers.'' The world's greatest living country singer doesn't think his young friend Jackson has many peers, at least among his generation. ''It boils down to there only being about two of them -- Alan and George Strait, of course -- that are really what I call country. And the rest of this so-called country music as far as I'm concerned is nothing but middle-of-the-road and crossover and bullcrap. I'm proud of the boy.''
Jackson just says, ''I wasn't really [worrying] about whether I'd be on the CMAs next year or not. I get tired of trying to pick out a new jacket every year anyway.'' But ask CMA executive director Ed Benson about the incident and he'll enthuse: ''Wasn't that great? Alan did what he felt he needed to do and he got a standing ovation. The great thing about it was, he went into George's song, came back and finished his own -- and he didn't even go over his time allotment.'' Rebelling and coming in like clockwork: Now, that's country.
Related Site: AlanJackson.com
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