photo: levi manchak · cc by 2.0 ↗Formed by Ray Benson, Lucky Oceans, and Leroy Preston in Paw Paw, West Virginia in 1970, Asleep at the Wheel spent over five decades resurrecting and updating Texas western swing for audiences who'd mostly forgotten it existed. Benson has called Merle Haggard's Bob Wills tribute album the 'Rosetta Stone' that sent his young, rock-raised band chasing swing's blend of jazz solos, blues, and dance-hall fiddle; nine Grammys and two dedicated Bob Wills tribute records later, they'd become the genre's most durable ambassadors. Relocated to Austin and still touring into their sixth decade, they're the rare revivalist act that outlasted the tradition's originators.
Ray Benson has called hearing Merle Haggard's tribute to Bob Wills 'the Rosetta Stone I'd been looking for,' the record that turned his 'primitive... hippie-country-western-rock' band toward full-blown western swing. Wills's model — a string band loose enough to swing through jazz, blues, and pop standards alike — became the whole template for the Wheel's sound.
listen forPlay Bob Wills's fiddle-and-horn romp 'Take Me Back to Tulsa' beside Asleep at the Wheel's 'Miles and Miles of Texas' — both keep a full string band swinging in something closer to big-band jazz time than a standard country shuffle.
Benson keeps an autographed photo of Louis Jordan and has described catching one of Jordan's California shows around 1971 or 1972, not long before Jordan's death. Jordan's jump blues — a swinging, horn-driven, good-time sound built for dancing — feeds the Wheel's love of a bright horn line and a wisecracking, novelty-tinged lyric.
listen forLine up Jordan's chugging 'Choo Choo Ch'Boogie' with the Wheel's cover of 'House of Blue Lights' — both ride an insistent boogie-woogie piano pulse under a cheerfully hollered, good-humored vocal.
Benson has said he 'grew up on The Rolling Stones and The Beatles, Bob Dylan and rock'n'roll' before western swing took over — a generic but direct nod to the restless, talky, rock-and-roll energy that sits underneath the Wheel's more traditional string-band arrangements. It shows up less as any specific lyric or lick than as a willingness to barrel through a song at a rock band's pace.
listen forSet Dylan's rapid-fire, half-spoken 'Subterranean Homesick Blues' against the Wheel's driving 'Get Your Kicks on Route 66' — both favor a headlong, talky momentum over any careful phrasing.