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Clay Farmer: ClayFarmer.jpg
Tall, lean and with a head of short, curly hair, he ain't your father's cowpoke.
Robert di Blanco -- vocals, bass, whip
Brian Thomas -- pedal steel, banjo, dobro, Coors
Randy Wall -- piano, organ, tofu
Clay Farmer -- vocals, guitar, general mischief
Joe Deleon -- drums, fork
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Crippled Picket Fences
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Mean Mistreated
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Another day
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Cotton top
Clay Farmer, 2001
Another Day, 2005
Live at the Armadillo Palace, Part I, 2008
Clay Farmer's life reads like a rough-and-tumble country song.
The Houston native was raised by his mother and stepfather, and he never really knew his father. Farmer's mother is currently in prison, and he says he grew up very hard — "a lot of biker stuff, robbing, guns, drugs, the whole nine yards. I didn't do it, but (my family) did."
But, Farmer says, his background gives him insight as a singer and songwriter, something he has pursued since childhood.
"It's always been part of my life. I've always written things down, ever since I was a kid. I don't know why," Farmer says. "I had scraps of paper everywhere, always writing my thoughts down or taking someone else's melody and putting my own words to it."
Farmer released his first album in 2001 and performs regularly in and around Houston. His second effort, Another Day , was released earlier this year, and it's a stirring, sensitive collection of country music. Onstage, Farmer has an easy confidence that boosts his songs beyond the usual soul-seeking fare.
The tall performer, who is partial to covering his curly mop of hair with a bandanna, says he has enough money and material together to record a third disc. Writing, he says, is work, and he tries to get into the rhythm of sitting down and doing it instead of waiting for inspiration to hit.
Encouragement certainly didn't come from his parents.
"I asked for guitars, I got footballs. I asked for a piano, I got a baseball — so I played a lot of sports," Farmer says. "No one was musically inclined in my family."
Or so he thought until last year, when Farmer visited a friend in Chapel Hill. A neighbor of his friend's turned out to be Farmer's cousin, who introduced the singer to his father's sister — Farmer's aunt. They told him about his family history and genealogy, which included many musical relatives. It helped Farmer better understand the drive to make music he has felt his entire life.
"I never really knew why I was pursuing an artistic career. I just had this desire to do it," Farmer says. "Obviously, it's in my blood. I grew up without it, but I had this desire to do it."
Farmer says he was kept on the righteous road as a child by his grandmother, who passed away five years ago. He remains proud of the path she forged for him, which has led to his current place on the Houston music scene.
Farmer's music — and his life — are also informed by the life and death of his younger brother, who died of a drug overdose.
"And I dream about tomorrow/As I search to find my faith again/I'm lonely, cold/I grow sad and hollow/I'm out here fighting the war you couldn't win," he sings on album closer Cotton Top . It's a haunting highlight on the Another Day disc.
Much of Farmer's music — which he cleverly labels "y'all-ternative" — isn't quite so serious. Album opener Crippled Picket Fences benefits from joyous instrumentation, and Ruby Red Lips is pure barroom bravado, much like veteran hit maker Aaron Tippin's best chart-toppers. Mean Mistreated rides an equally effective swagger, and it's all anchored by Farmer's rich baritone.
Influences abound, from Elvis and Steve Earle to George Jones and Merle Haggard. But aside from the King, this boy likes to kindly keep it country.
"I always enjoyed country music. I enjoyed the simplicity of the lyrics. I enjoyed the heartfelt kind of describing of my life," Farmer says. "Sarah McLachlan doesn't describe my life. George Jones does."
And despite so much trauma early in life, Farmer remains a warm, gracious and optimistic guy. Even though he and his wife just started divorce proceedings after several years of marriage, don't expect too much crying steel guitar.
"I'm here before you now, kind of healed. I went and got some help, talked to some people, and they straightened me out — or allowed me to straighten myself out," Farmer says. "I kind of came to terms with my ego, my wants and my needs. Now, I'm just kind of relaxed.
"I'm not quitting until I stop growing. I feel like I'm just getting to where I want to be."
-- Joey Guerra | September 7, 2005
