One of my favorite memories from my childhood was riding in my grandfather’s pickup in southeast New Mexico. Whether we were driving east into Carlsbad or west into Texas or just driving around his ranch, he would have AM radio playing. In between the livestock report, the weather forecast, Paul Harvey and the local news, the station would play country music. This is where I found many of the artists that I still listen to today.
My grandfather’s radio is where I first heard Glen Campbell, Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings and Tom T. Hall. They were some of my favorites but their music was not too far afield from the other regular artists on that station. When I was about nine years old though, I heard one of those songs that, looking back, moved the musical boundaries for me. The song was “Games People Play” by Joe South. I had never heard of Joe South but his name certainly sounded country and there was just enough twang in his voice to be played on Carlsbad radio.
It was funny that my grandfather and I enjoyed riding around together so much since he generally was waiting for the songs to be over so he could get more information about what was going on in his community. I was usually waiting impatiently for Paul Harvey to say “And that’s the rest of the story” so the station would get back to the music. So, I was not surprised that my grandfather knew nothing about Joe South.
I was surprised, however, when I got home to California and mentioned to my father how my new favorite song was “Games People Play” by Joe South. Dad not only had heard the song but had a passing familiarity with Joe South. He and my Mom got me Joe South’s Greatest Hits for Christmas. It was one of the first records I ever owned. Up to that point, I survived on my sisters’ Beatles and Herman’s Hermits albums and my parents’ Eddy Arnold, Jim Reeves, Patsy Cline and Dean Martin LPs.
Joe South’s Greatest Hits tread dangerously close to the forbidden line between country and rock and roll that my parents monitored in their household. They didn’t ban rock and roll—it just could not be played when they were in the house. When my parents would go out for an evening, my sisters (and their little brother) would revel in their rock album collection until the car headlights turned back in the driveway a few hours later.
Even though Joe South was as heavy on electric guitars and rock beats as anything the Beatles or Monkees could muster, for some reason, I was never asked to “turn that off please.” Later, when I started to build my record collection, I was often mystified by the artists that my parents could not co-exist with, but Joe South seemed to fly under the radar.
“Games People Play” won the Grammy for Song of the Year in 1970. A couple years later, Lynn Anderson won a Grammy with South’s song “Rose Garden.” Several other artists have had hits with Joe South songs over the years. But, after “Rose Garden,” he seemed to drop out of sight. It wasn’t until years later that I learned that, like so many other talents, he succumbed to addiction. Today, few people have heard of him.
I still like to tell or remind people about Joe South because I think he is one of the vastly underrated songwriters of all time, even with winning a Grammy. He was also an extraordinary guitarist who was in great demand as a session musician (Dylan’s “Blonde on Blonde” album and Simon & Garfunkel’s “Sounds of Silence” to name a couple examples).
It took me several years to understand why Joe South appealed to me. The songs on Carlsbad radio tended to fall in a narrow band of subjects. To paraphrase David Allen Coe, they usually dealt with trains, Mama, prison, pickup trucks and getting drunk. “Games People Play,” on the other hand, dealt with us and the faces we put on for the world and, too often, for those close to us. It was confrontational but not unpleasant. Perhaps I liked it because it was full of undeniable truths, like good country music tends to be. Or maybe it was just because, for crying out loud, he was playing a sitar on a country hit.
At his peak, Joe South was a frequent guest on variety shows hosted by stars like Campbell, Johnny Cash, Bobbie Gentry and others. He almost always did one of his songs that was not as popular as “Games People Play” called “Walk a Mile in My Shoes.” As a kid, I liked it but I really wanted to hear “Games People Play.” Over the years, I have come to have a deeper appreciation for “Walk a Mile in My Shoes.” It picks up where his Grammy winner left off but goes ahead and delivers the punches that he may have pulled before. As shown in the video, it’s one of my favorites to play.
Apparently, South managed to vanquish his demons before passing on a few years back. He said, “You know, you can go through drug treatment centers, but it's not a permanent healing until it's a spiritual healing." For a songwriter who was so gifted at conveying spiritual imagery, I found it a bit sad that it took him so long to grasp his own message. Conversely, I recently ran across a public service commercial on TV that used “Walk a Mile in My Shoes” to great emotional effect. That made me happy because, while life really is like a country song, Joe South helped explain why.
Walk a Mile in My Shoes
If I could be you and you could be me, for just one hour,
Maybe we could find a way to get inside each other’s minds,
If you could see you through my eyes instead of your ego.
I believe you’d be surprised to see, that you’ve been blind.
Ch: Walk a Mile in My Shoes
Walk a Mile in My Shoes
Hey before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Walk a Mile in My Shoes
Now your whole world you see around you is just a reflection
And the Lord a comin’ says you’re gonna reap just what you sow
So unless you’ve lived a life of total perfection
You better be careful with every stone you should throw.
And if we spend the day throwin’ stones at one another
Because I don’t think or wear my hair the same way you do
I may be common people but I’m your brother
And when you strike out trying to hurt me, it’s hurting you.
Now there are people on reservations and out in the ghettos,
And brother there but for the grace of God, go you and I
If I only had the wings of little angels,
Don’t you know I’d fly to the top of the mountain, and then I’d cry.