I don’t care if you’re a redneck with a Jeff Gordon tattoo, a 19 year old pot smoking wigger from Nebraska or Woody fuck Harrelson, you know, and I know, that Willie Nelson is a badass. He does what he wants, how he wants to and no one gives him shit for it. He wants to play a rock festival, he plays a rock festival. Garth Brooks tries that shit, he’s gonna get booed. Willie does it, and people are gonna light up a doobie and relax for an hour.
What Mr. Nelson does on American Classic is to lay down some standards. Not like, “I have standards,” but STANDARDS. You know, the classics. The songs that have been done by everyone from Frank Sinatra to that beady eyed Josh Grobin kid. “Ain’t Misbheavin’”, “Fly Me To The Moon” and “The Nearness of you” are all done with great jazz piano, suh-weet upright bass, and of course, Nelson’s signature croon.
Rednecks, pretend you have some class and pop this in. Stoners, pretend that your record collection consists of more than the Kottonmouth Kings, Cypress Hill and Bob Marley. Everyone else, lay back, and let Willie take you away. Go go go!