Memorable Musicians from my Formative Years in the Music Profession: Maurice Anderson

Written by Johnny Case

It would be difficult to overestimate his importance and influence on my early years. I was eager to learn the more advanced aspects of music and my encounter with Maurice Andeson led to a stimulated capacity for understanding and applying many musical ideas that were new to me and consistent with my quest for modern musical concepts and their practical applications within various contexts. To reconcile such sophistication with the underlying folk music foundation of western swing and the even more restrictive demands of "straight" country music seemed a near impossibility. Yet, some among the western swing musicians of the southwest were quite adept at such infusion. None could have illustrated it better than Maurice Anderson, whose real goal perhaps had long been to take his chosen instrument outside the genres where steel guitar was customarily heard and introduce its vast potential to the world of popular music and modern jazz.

The Case brothers' association with Anderson began in late May or early June of 1964. My older brother, guitarist Jerry Case, met him in Las Vegas, Nevada, where they were performing at the Golden Nugget in separate bands, playing alternating sets. Jerry Case and Maurice Anderson not only heard each other perform, but seemed to have immediate mutual respect. This initial acquaintance would soon become a lasting friendship. In a routine telephone call to "check-in" with family, Jerry updated us on his Vegas gig (his second time to play there, following a week in January with Joe Carson). After mom and dad visited with him, I eagerly told Jerry about a terrific steel player I'd seen and heard on the televised "Cowtown Jamboree" the previous Saturday as I awaited a local band bus (a Volkswagon!) to pick me up at our parents' house. I rode with other members of The Stardusters, to play the Texoma Club across the state line north of our home in Paris. Although I didn't know the name of the steel man who had impressed me, I told Jerry that he was accompanying Charlie Walker of Grand Ole Opry fame. During his first "commercial-style" interlude (played with obvious expertise) the steel player ended his solo with an unexpected and very rapid single-note line descending into nether regions of a sonic range lower than I was accustomed to hearing on steel guitar. His execution was crisp and flawless. It was a clear signal to anyone listening closely - this musician had much more to offer than the obligatory country sounds this gig required. Jerry didn't interrupt me but responded with a wealth of information that sent my head reeling. This was when I learned that Walker and the band I'd heard on Saturday (televised from Fort Worth's Panther Hall) immediately afterward traveled to Las Vegas to begin a week-long engagement at the Golden Nugget, rotating sets (for non-stop entertainment) with Judy Kaye's band featuring my brother on guitar. Jerry advised me about the steel man in question. "His name is Maurice Anderson". Jerry verified the man's prowess on pedal steel. He'd heard Maurice in a jam session with another giant, Curly Chalker. who was based in Vegas during much of the 1960s. It was Jerry's impression that they possessed equal mastery, and each had his own style. Furthermore, in meeting Maurice, my brother learned that upon his return to Dallas, Maurice was to join Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. From recent local radio advertisements, I knew that Wills was booked into Paris to play an upcoming Wednesday night at Barrett's, a skating rink that doubled as a dance hall. Twice before I had gone there on my own to hear the legendary Wills. Each time it was with a rather "pared-down" version of Texas Playboys. In hindsight, I cherish the memory of being there to experience the charismatic stage presence of Bob Wills, to enjoy vocalist Joe Andrews, the stunning fiddle work of Gene Gasaway, Bobby McBay's rock-solid drumming, and longtime Wills-stalwart Gene Crownover on steel. The second of the two times, Wills had augmented his band with guitarist extraordinaire Leon Chambers. The third trip to hear Wills would prove to be yet something else...an expanded band with two new exciting soloists.

Primed with "insider" info from my brother, I planned a third visit to Barrett's, which otherwise I would not have made. The real reason was to hear the great steel guitarist who'd been unknown to me only a few days before. It was early June 1964 when the newest edition of Texas Playboys came to Paris. Unlike previous times, I arrived early, well ahead of other attendees and shortly before the band. They had to lug their heavy equipment up a flight of wooden steps to reach the performance space. From my seat at a table, I first heard voices and clamoring before I could see the musicians, one by one, emerge from below, and I recognized Maurice Anderson from having seen him recently on the TV program. The timing seemed a bit awkward - all the band members were winded from the load-in. As it happened, Maurice set his encased instrument on the floor very near where I was sitting. Maybe he appreciated a moment to catch his breath. At any rate, I arose and approached him addressing him by name: "Are you, Maurice Anderson?" He seemed surprised but immediately replied in acknowledgment. I quickly mentioned my brother's name. Jerry had encouraged me to meet him, assuring me: "He's real friendly and very approachable".  I heard instant praise for Jerry's guitar playing, and again soon afterward: "That guy sounds like Barney Kessel, doesn’t he". I'm certain the pride I felt was evident on my face, for Kessel was the guitarist many jazz-minded western swing musicians most admired. From this point on, it was almost as though we were already friends and the only unrealized objective was simply in getting better acquainted. At age 29, Maurice was much like the person I wanted to become. He was very self-assured in his demeanor and remarkably advanced in his music. He was also a handsome young man. I was a skinny and shy 16-year-old kid who had only recently realized that I possessed real musical talent. This is what gave me the courage to approach him. As Maurice began setting up his steel while I watched with great interest, he continued to keep a dialogue going by asking questions, one of which pertained to school. The semester had ended but I was one-half credit short of being a senior. I said: "I'm going to summer school..." and before I could further explain he said: "That's great!", which was an unexpected response and so positive it changed my whole outlook on the subject. As the time neared for the band to start playing, Maurice gave me a heads-up concerning the "very good guitarist" Billy Carter. He was from Houston and was another new hire, following Leon Chambers who had left not long before.

This was a 10-piece band. The familiar members were: Joe Andrews, vocals; Bob Wills, Gene Gasaway & George Clayborn, fiddles; Gene Crownover, steel guitar; Luke Wills. bass & vocals; Bobby McBay, drums. The new members were: Benny Johnson, piano; Maurice Anderson, pedal steel and Billy Carter, lead guitar. The steels were positioned up front on opposite sides of the bandstand, with guitarist Carter in close proximity to Anderson. Quite predictably I sat where I could watch both.  

I cannot recall many specific things about what I heard. It was mostly the standard Wills fare, but with solos by Anderson and Carter that lifted the music to a higher plane. Everything Maurice played was in a harmonically advanced vein and swung very hard. Unlike the Charlie Walker gig, with Wills, there was no need for, or expectation of, the "Nashville" approach, and it was therefore absent. A few of the selections were obviously new arrangements utilizing the additional guitarists, with melodies and/or riffs played in harmony by the threesome of Crownover, Carter, and Anderson. I didn't find these ensemble sections particularly striking, but the three played well together and it was refreshing to hear guitars in tandem rather than ensemble work always being by the fiddlers. I stayed all night, so I heard numerous songs often played at a Wills dance. One tune that made a lasting impression was Jersey Bounce, which I'd not heard from Wills before. Alas, I remember no specifics regarding which instruments played the melody. I love the chord changes of the bridge and Maurice soloed with such creative sophistication, this one song stands out in my memory of the music I heard that night.

There was one band break of approximately 30 minutes between two lengthy sets. Maurice came over to my table and asked if I wanted something to drink. Since Barretts was a BYOB venue, going to the bar was for water, ice, and soft drinks. He ordered a cola and asked what I wanted. I chose an orange drink which he insisted on buying and we walked back to the table and talked music. Maurice was interested in hearing that I played piano in a dance band, playing every Saturday night. I was grateful that during this time period we weren't playing on Wednesdays. In hindsight, it makes me wonder about an "unseen hand" guiding the events in my young life. One topic that Maurice introduced was his newfound company, MSA custom steel guitars. On the Wills gig, Fender Instruments furnished guitars and amps, and the pedal steel Maurice had chosen was a new model single-neck ten-string, The Fender 800. I may have mentioned my desire to play steel, having bought a used Rickenbacher 6-string lap steel. It's true that I'd not yet accepted the fact that piano was to be my instrument. For certain, it was early in our friendship that Maurice was aware of my interest in playing steel. During our conversation, I was aware that other band members were milling around, sometimes close to us. I could sense a few looking our way, as if: "What's this?"  I would have liked to meet Billy Carter, but there was no introduction. In a way, it seemed that Maurice was different from the others: Intermission was an opportunity for musicians to indulge in smoking and drinking whiskey. Maurice was obviously not interested in either and seemed perfectly content to sit with a kid who was there only to soak up the music. 

Only a few weeks later, this Wills aggregation played Panther Hall in Fort Worth, including the Saturday night, live "Cowtown Jamboree" telecast from which I had previously made audio recordings. Considering the benefit of being able to listen repeatedly to sound recordings, it was another stroke of good fortune for me to make tapes from which I could study the creative solos. The opener on the televised show was a recent Longhorn Records release, Sooner or Later, a feature for Joe Andrews. The solos are in this order: Gene Crownover, Benny Johnson, Maurice Anderson, and Billy Carter. As would be evident in future performances of the Wills band, Gene Crownover's solos weren't improvisations but were pre-conceived, not spontaneous creations. Therefore, whenever the band played, for example, Take Me Back to Tulsa, you'd hear the same solo every time that song was played. The piano player favored a deliberately old-fashioned barrelhouse style, which seemed to please Bob Wills. The new hire guitarists, Anderson on pedal steel and Billy Carter on standard, were true improvisers, Maurice Anderson's solo on Sooner or Later is a classic, exhibiting supreme taste and musicality in a hard-driving approach inspired and encouraged. by the legendary bandleader. Ditto for guitarist Billy Carter, who swung so hard he would stomp his foot and vocalize with his single-note improvisations. These, however, were often interspersed with chordal passages of modern voicings sometimes utilizing dissonance. Every tune the Wills band played offered new surprises from these two exciting soloists. It is fortunate that I recognized the value of recording as a learning tool, both in recording oneself and therefore discovering where more work is required and in recording masterful musicians for inspiration and pragmatic examples of how to best use the components of musical language. To this day, I marvel at the quality of improvised solos Anderson and Carter provided when they were with Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. The year was 1964, a time of extremes in my young life, and impressions never to be forgotten.

An abrupt change came to the Case family in the summer of 1964. The Dallas electronics company with which my father had a franchise insisted that to improve his sales, he must move from Paris to a larger metropolitan area. It was mutually agreed between dad and Adleta Electronics that he would relocate his business (One Stop Electronics Supply) to the Dallas suburb of Garland. My father went ahead of us so that he could find and rent the commercial space for his business. Once this was accomplished, he went to work building a sales counter and additional shelving for his stock. It was up to my mom and me to prepare for a massive move and, with a two-story house to clear out, the work was non-stop and exhausting. In Garland, we rented a comfortable house until we could give thought to finding a house to buy. Once we began to get settled in, the realization of professional playing opportunities gave my spirits a much-needed lift. When Jerry visited us in our new location (he was living in Wichita Falls), he and I decided to look up Maurice Anderson at MSA Custom Steel Guitars. We had his business card and one day immediately after lunch, we headed for Oak Cliff where the MSA shop was located on Tyler just north of Jefferson Avenue. When we arrived, a very surprised Maurice greeted us. and made us feel welcome. He'd not seen us together until then and he seemed delighted to hear that our family’s home base was now in nearby Garland. Jerry and I were already acquainted with the matinee music scene in Dallas, so we asked our new friend where we might go to hear something we'd enjoy. He said: "Bud Carter is a very good commercial steel player who's working with a fine band at the Spot 77. I'd recommend that. I think you'll enjoy Bud, he plays nice!". With this endorsement from a great musician, we were soon on our way, following the directions Maurice gave us  Upon arrival we walked into a nice club we'd not known about previously. We were more familiar with honky tonks, but this place seemed elegant by comparison. It shared with the dives however, the dark atmosphere favored by all the dance venues. Going through a double set of doors to allow one's eyesight to get acclimated to the windowless darkness was a characteristic to which Jerry and I were already accustomed. The afternoon would prove to be memorable.

The room was not crowded, making it easy for Jerry and me to find a seat at a table close to the bandstand. The five-piece band was playing and a few other visiting musicians were seated near us, including Billy Gray's impressive young steel guitarist, Denny Mathis. We'd not met most of these musicians, but we recognized multi-instrumentalist Tommy Morrell, on drums. Not until this day did we realize that this innovative guitarist and pedal steel man, who was also known to play trombone, could additionally provide tasteful and steady drumming whenever the need arose. Pedal steel guitarist Bud Carter was set up on the left, directly in front of where Jerry and I were seated. Slightly behind and to the right was Charlie Meeks, bass guitarist extraordinaire. Upfront and center at the mic, bandleader Eddie Willis provided compelling vocals and solid rhythm guitar. Directly behind Willis was Morrell on drums. Sharing lead duties with Bud Carter was guitarist Steve Rodriguez, positioned right of Eddie Willis, but standing behind a Hammond B-3 organ which occupied the space up front. What was unusual about this band, no doubt assembled simply to fill a gig opportunity, was the high degree of musical sensitivity. The lack of a large crowd actually proved beneficial to this band's subdued and subtle approach to playing good material within the country music / western swing dance music context. Their repertoire also included pop and jazz-influenced material. Bud was featured on Stardust and the break tune (featuring both guitarists) was an impressive version of "Hold It", popularized by R&B organist Bill Doggett. The swing tunes and country ballads such as "Welcome To My World" and "Am I Losing You" were very quiet sublime interpretations. This is the only band I've ever heard "live" that evoked the same exquisite ambiance as is present on those early Liberty recordings by Willie Nelson singing "Let Me Talk To You", "Right or Wrong", "The Things I might Have Been" and two or three more from the same session produced by Tommy Allsup in 1963. If I had to choose one word to describe my overall impression of the musicianship I heard that afternoon at the Spot 77 in Dallas, I would use the word refined.