Leland Martin believes in miracles.
And why not? With his debut single, "If I Had Long Legs
(Like Alan Jackson)," he's already accomplished the impossible,
sneaking a little slice of authentic honky-tonk hilarity past
country radio's gatekeepers and onto the airwaves. The song,
a tongue-in-cheek tribute to the kind of country star Martin
aspires to be, has been playing coast-to-coast to tremendous
listener and radio response. It connected immediately with an
audience starving for real life and old-fashioned tradition in
their country music, and it works as more than just a novelty
because Leland Martin does vocal justice to each of the artists
to whom he's paying tribute. In its 2 minutes and 55 seconds,
"Long Legs" introduces the most distinctive hard-country
stylist to hit Nashville in years.
"Leland's got that thing that makes
country music real and full and rich," says veteran promotion
man Bob Saporiti. Now retired, Saporiti was National Promotion
Director at Warner Bros. in the early '80s when a new artist
named Randy Travis signed to his label and signaled the beginning
of the end of the pop-driven Urban Cowboy era. "The Wall
Street Journal had just proclaimed that country was dead. Fortunately
for country music fans, Randy Travis did not subscribe to that
particular newspaper," Saporiti said.
History repeats itself. Nashville is
currently in the throes of yet another pop-versus-country identity
crisis, and along comes a special artist with a surprise hit
single and the kind of stone-country voice that stops label and
radio execs dead in their tracks. It's no wonder. Leland Martin
is the real deal a singer/songwriter who knows exactly
who he is and has been waiting a lifetime to tell the world about
it. Straight outta the rough 'n' tumble blue-collar roadhouses
of southern Missouri, Martin has forged his vocal and songwriting
style over the course of three decades on stages all over the
region. With the exception of a few close calls with his lifelong
dream of Nashville stardom, Martin has spent all of those years
working a "real" job by day and pursuing his musical
dream at night.
"I attribute a lot of the sound
of my music to paying my dues by growing up poor, a lot of 'hard
work' jobs, and hitting a lot of brick walls in the pursuit of
a music career," Martin says. "If you actually wrote
all about my life, people wouldn't believe it."
Leland Martin's life would indeed make
a darn good country song, and it serves as the basis for his
soulful songwriting and the inspiration for the country classics
that form the heart of Simply Traditional, his stunning
debut CD. From the time-honored honky-tonk yearnings of "Don't
Ya Think" to the sawdust-floor swing of "Hey Love,
No Fair" to the brotherly love-themed balladry of "More
Than Friends," these are the songs of a life lived in the
trenches, onstage, on the job, and to the fullest.
Growing up in the tiny southern Missouri
town of Success (population 25), Martin was the fourth of nine
children raised by a single mother on less than a shoestring.
"Dad left us when I was about six and Mom raised us nine
kids on welfare and later with the help of her second husband.
Even with his help, things remained tough," Martin says.
"If I was ever going to attribute why I turned out to have
the strong values I have, it'd be because of the strength Mom
showed us."
Although he was surrounded by country
music from the start, Martin's earliest musical influence came
blaring out of a black-and-white TV set. "I remember being
a small child, and they'd let us watch the Elvis Presley movies,"
Martin says. "Before I ever learned to play guitar or anything
I was really fascinated with him, and I think that's what really
got me stirred up. But around the house I was just hearing old
country music. That's all they played on records or on the radio,
and I loved it."
Martin's dad didn't make it by too often,
but when he did he'd usually unpack his guitar and sing a few
of the old country songs. It wasn't long before young Martin
was hooked.
"After seeing Elvis and hearing Dad I begged for a guitar
and finally Mom ordered a $13 guitar out of a catalog,"
Martin says. "It was a little ol' Ranger I think, and
I got it for Christmas. That was the greatest Christmas in the
world."
The youngster didn't waste any time
learning to play, picking his way through a hand-written notebook
of old time songs his grandmother had left behind and next moved
on to Buck Owens, George Jones and a singer/songwriter who would
become his greatest influence. The first song I ever learned
to play was Merle Haggard's "Okie From Muskogee," because
it has only two chords," Martin laughs. "At that time
I was just falling in love with Haggard's stuff.
Listening to Simply Traditional,
Haggard's influence isn't hard to hear, especially on a song
like "Stone Cold Fingers," a truckers lament that could
only have been written by someone who had spent a good deal of
time behind the wheel. "Ain't No Speed Limit," with
its Buck Owens-inspired pedal-to-the-medal groove, also evokes
the on-the-road lifestyle. "Oh yeah, I've driven lots of
trucks," says Martin. "Not so much over the road trucking,
but big dump trucks and hauling asphalt and all that."
Whether it was driving a truck, working
as a mechanic or laboring in the local sawmill, Martin has sure
enough held a number of blue-collar jobs over the years, all
in service of his true passion - writing, playing and singing
pure, traditional country music. In fact, by the time he was
15 years old, Martin was working steadily in the local bars.
And by the time he'd reached the ripe old age of 17, he was a
married, rent-paying bandleader.
"When I was younger I was happy
to just work the sawmills every day and play the nightclubs on
the weekend," he says. "But I'd get bored with every
job I'd ever do because the music was always there. Like Opie
in Mayberry, unless you wanted to spend the rest of your life
in the sawmills, you finally had to leave."
Martin moved his home base to Houston,
MO, the closest thing in the area to a big city, and started
playing the larger venues. Over the next decade he would work
his way up to local celebrity status, commanding top dollar at
the region's best venues and opening shows for top country acts
like Moe Bandy, Joe Stampley, Nat Stuckey, Cal Smith, the Kendalls
and Freddie Hart. In fact, in 1983, Martin accepted an offer
to hit the road as Hart's guitarist, getting a strong taste of
the touring life and honing his ever expanding writing and playing
chops. On Simply Traditional, Martin tips his Stetson
to his old boss with "Freddie's Heart," a combination
tribute and duet featuring a vocal cameo from the "Easy
Loving" singer himself.
Throughout Martin's career, friends,
family and true believers, compelled by the sheer power of the
man's music and his unrelenting work ethic, have donated time
and money to the cause, financing the singer on more than one
recording trip to Nashville. Stuck for the money to finance his
first single back in 1980, Martin, his brother and a bunch of
friends literally took matters into their own hands.
"I had big dreams about that first
record, and they worked their buns off cutting and hauling cord
wood to raise $1100 so I could go into the studio and get it
recorded," Martin recalls. "People have come through
for me like that more than once, that's for sure."
The session that led to "If I Had
Long Legs (Like Alan Jackson)" was no exception. But this
time, Martin assembled the right team, and they achieved their
goal of getting that voice on the radio. Now that he's
got the ear of those traditional country music fans and radio
folks, get out of the way. Leland Martin is ready to roll up
his sleeves and go to work.
"When I was recording this album,
I'd finish a few songs here and go home and get back under the
hood of a car skinning my knuckles up as a mechanic," Martin
says. "All the working class people who struggle from paycheck
to paycheck like I always did, they connect with this music.
I can't wait to go out there and sing to them and connect with
them. I've got a feeling that might be happening already, because
when I talk to the people in radio, what they are saying to me
is 'thanks for coming along right now.' And that makes me feel
good because it's finally my time."