Fresh Notes | Butch Baker
Butch Baker is alive, and that’s good news.
It became a question in my mind when I received a facebook message from John Morris. John, a Knoxville songwriter, had hired Butch to sing an album of his songs, which was recorded here a few years ago. John sent me a facebook message the other day saying he’d heard that Butch Baker had died in a motorcycle accident. We both like Butch a lot, so we were very interested to find out whether that was him.
I called Butch’s cell phone, and got his out-going message, where he pretends to be Mr. Haney from The Andy Griffith Show, telling the listener in a very convincing slow country drawl that Butch is not available right now. I left a message asking Butch to call me if he was alive. He got back to me in a few minutes, to say, yes, he’s alive, and in fact his motorcycle days are far behind him.
Butch is one fascinating and enjoyable character. I’ve known him as a fine studio singer, but he’s much more than that. After years as a recording artist, doing what he calls “the dog and pony show” for the major labels, he’s been running a publishing company the last few years. He’s well respected and connected on Music Row, but I suspect he’s happiest out at his cabin on about 30 acres in Mt. Juliet. He’s a country boy, having been raised in Sweetwater, Tennessee, and still loving to ride dirt roads in his pickup truck, and go on hunting trips with his buddies. He’s totally down to earth, but also loaded with talent, and just about the quickest demo singer around. I heard it said that Butch holds the land speed record for vocals in a Nashville studio: 3 songs in 35 minutes. Complete with background vocals. Songs he’d never heard before. It usually takes an hour to do one song.
But Butch is more than a whiz in the studio. He’s also a genuinely friendly guy, able to carry on fascinating conversations about anything from root beer to antique firearms (he owns a few) and musical favorites ranging from Nat “King” Cole and Tony Bennett to Bryan Adams and Kenny Loggins. He’s got a boyish face, and those angled eyebrows that give him a passing resemblance to Paul McCartney. He’ll talk about meeting Smokey Robinson on a plane, and you’re hanging on every word, as he selects his details and massages his timing like a professional storyteller.
Butch loves animals, and that’s where we’ve got a history. Our current dog Chaber (pronouned Caw-BARE, from Hebrew for companion) was once sitting by the highway as a lost puppy, somewhere in east Tennessee. Butch and his wife drove by, saw the little lost puppy, and drove back to pick her up. Problem was, they already had a dog at home and really couldn’t keep the new puppy. He told us about her, and she sounded nice. Holly made a trip out there to “audition” the dog, and decided she was a keeper. And she is. The funniest part is every time Butch comes over here, Chaber recognizes him as the guy who saved her, and she makes a scene, squealing and squirming in delight.
To make it a balanced trade, we ended up giving Butch a fine cat. We had adopted Sullivan from a songwriter who already had a cat and couldn’t keep this kitten who’d wandered into her backyard. Again, we saw a very agreeable personality, decided to take him home, and enjoyed his company. He got along fine with our dogs, but after a while, we discovered a few too many critters, including birds and squirrels that he brought into the studio. A good critter-catching cat is exactly what Butch needed out at his cabin, so when we decided to give Sullivan away, Butch was our first choice. It’s turned out to be a good match.
John Morris is not the only songwriter who appreciates Butch’s voice, but he’s the only one I know who wanted to release an entire album of songs sung by him. It was a smart choice. John tells me that his CD is on several jukeboxes around Knoxville, and those songs get played regularly. I’m not sure if he makes any money from those plays, but it’s a lot closer to success than lots of other songwriters ever get.
There’s a photo of Butch, John and me here in the studio from one of the sessions we had making on that CD. You can tell from the faces that we were enjoying it.
BC, Fresh Notes, 11-1-10