I don't consider myself a big country music fan, at least not as that genre is defined by commercial radio. In the 1980s I followed the careers of Steve Earle, Dwight Yoakam, k.d. lang, and Lyle Lovett, but that's about it. I admired those artists because they were decidedly outside the Nashville mainstream, sort of Rebel Country (again, not as defined by country radio stations, which regularly include "rebel" acts like Toby Keith on their playlists; by contrast, the artists I mentioned receive hardly any airplay).

So, it was with great hesitancy that I forced myself, in the mid-1990s, to broaden my horizons and listen to more commercially successful country acts from the '80s--artists like The Judds, Randy Travis, and George Strait. I was so hesitant, in fact, that I purchased their albums on cassette rather than CD so that I wouldn't beat myself up too badly in the event I hated what I heard. Strait's Does Fort Worth Ever Cross Your Mind was one of the first on my list and though I can't say I have played it often in the 10 years I have owned it, it is nevertheless an above average, if all too brief (playing time is only 26 minutes), example of modern country music.

Strait's music is rarely extravagant or overblown. Producer Jimmy Bowen deserves the credit for keeping things subtle so that the listener is not overwhelmed by a blast of fiddle or steel guitar at inopportune moments. The only complaint I have is that the drums are mixed up, which gives some of the numbers an adult contemporary, rather than country, feel to them.

That said, the overall mood on the album allows for Strait to sing his stories free of clutter. Just listen to the way he phrases the word "hold" on the title line "I Need Someone Like Me (to Hold on to)." In a lesser artist this line would be exploited in a cracked voice or low moan. Strait just draws out the word, no need for theatrics, and lets the listener discern just how desperate he feels.

I can't say I like the title track which opens Does Fort Worth Ever Cross Your Mind. It's too maudlin a way to open an album. Besides, the geography is all wrong; Strait is in Ft. Worth while the former flame he sings to is in the same metropolis, Dallas--they are practically neighbours! Wouldn't it be better if Dallas became Memphis, or Ft. Worth were a smaller town like Cheyenne or Fargo? The rhymes would still work and you'd have that sense of distance that makes a broken-hearted song so poignant. Maybe the idea is that the hurt is still the same no matter the proximity, but it doesn't work for me.

I'm also not a fan of "Honky Tonk Saturday Night" (too slow) or "Love Comes From the Other Side of Town" (too flippant for a cheating song), especially since it follows a much better, cautionary take on the same subject "I Should Have Watched That First Step."

However, everything else on Does Fort Worth Ever Cross Your Mind works for me, from the Bob Wills-like swing number "Any Old Time" to the breakup song "The Cowboy Rides Away" to the tongue-in-cheek "The Fireman" where Strait goes around town "putting out old flames." (Those last two were among the album's three songs that landed inside Billboard's top 5 country chart--the third one being the title track, which went all the way to #1.)

The hidden gem on the album is the tender ballad "You're Dancin' This Dance All Wrong," where Strait proves that he was pop worthy, too. Too bad the era (1984) didn't market crossover potential as much as it does now. If they had perhaps George Strait, and not Garth Brooks, would be a household name today.



Recommended: Yes