George Strait

Not everyone was wearing Vuarnet Cat Eye sunglasses and playing Devo records in 1981. George Strait was listening to Bakersfield honky-tonk and vintage western swing, as evidenced by his debut long player, which has aged better than California wine. At a time when urban cowboy was turning into glossy countrypolitan a-la Kenny & Dolly, Strait was forging the new traditional sound. While "Blame It on Mexico" flirted with Jimmy Buffett-inspired lite rock, heel stompers like "Honky Tonk Downstairs" mapped out the big-hatted blueprint that helped invent people like Garth Brooks and Alan Jackson.

This isn't so much hard country as quiet honky tonk, which I don't hold against Strait, a handsome and discerning fellow whose pleasant baritone, though not designed to swallow whole cans of corn (cf. John Anderson, Ricky Skaggs), boasts a subtle, built-in catch. But he's so unassuming I'm afraid he's destined to remain a minor pleasure--one more lonely tiller in fields left fallow by Billy Sherrill. (Grade - B+)