Hargus Robbins Played on That, Too? Yup, He Sure Did.
In the mid-1960s, country music star Sheb Wooley — whom you might remember earlier from “The Purple People Eater” — created an alter ego named Ben Colder.
Ben was a walking drunk joke who slurred and sloshed his way through parodies of popular country hits.
Ben was fun, in a Hee Haw sort of way. Sample: In “Almost Persuaded #2,” he introduces himself to a woman in a bar by saying, “Ben Colder here.” She replies, “Ain’t been no colder here than it’s been anyplace else.” It’s not, let’s say, sophisticated repartee.
But it’s sprinkled with charming touches, one of which has Colder pausing for a short piano riff that doesn’t come and saying, “What happened to the doodle-oo-doos?”
A minute or so later, he calls for the riff again: “Once more there, Hargus.” To which the piano responds with a honky-tonk flourish — only three seconds long, but clearly a shot fired back at Colder’s prodding. Colder mutters, “Smart aleck.”
It’s a silly joke, but a nice shout-out to a musician who was everything except a smart aleck: Hargus “Pig” Robbins, maybe the most prolific piano session player in country music history.
Robbins died Sunday at the age of 84, leaving behind a legacy of several thousand records. Few bore his name, almost all bore his imprint.
Reading through his discography, I realized that Hargus Robbins may be heard on more records in my collection than any other artist, even Bob Dylan.
Speaking of whom, Robbins plays piano on about half the tracks for Dylan’s Blonde On Blonde. He rocks into the punchy R&B of “Obviously Five Believers” and “Pledging My Time” and downshifts to the mesmerizing, melancholy “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” and “Just Like a Woman.”
Robbins made most of his money and reputation in country music. But if someone could hum it to him, he could play it.
His early sessions included backing R&B icon Clyde McPhatter on “Lover Please.” In years ahead he played behind musicians from Loudon Wainwright III (Attempted Mustache) to Paul Anka, Burl Ives, Mark Knopfler, Neil Young, Ray Charles, George Harrison, the Everly Brothers and Joan Baez.
Still, there’s a reason he was eulogized as a country musician, beyond the fact he cut eight country instrumental albums in the 1960s.
Nor is it just that he played on a lot of country records, or with a lot of top country artists, from Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton to George Jones.
It’s the particular records he played on.
Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces” and “Crazy.” Jones’s “He Stopped Loving Her Today” and “She Thinks I Still Care.” Connie Smith’s “Once a Day.” Parton’s “Coat of Many Colors.” Tammy Wynette’s “D-I-V-O-R-C-E,” Tanya Tucker’s “Delta Dawn,” Crystal Gayle’s “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.” Charlie Rich’s “Behind Closed Doors.” Shania Twain’s “The Woman In Me.” Alan Jackson’s “Don’t Rock the Jukebox.” Roger Miller’s “King of the Road.” Tom T. Hall’s “Ballad of Forty Dollars.” Faron Young’s “It’s Four in the Morning.” Loretta Lynn’s “Coal Miner’s Daughter.”
These aren’t just some random country songs. These are a golden country music jukebox, and if Robbins wasn’t the driving force behind all of them, it’s no coincidence he was playing the piano.
Hargus Robbins started early on a music career. When he was 3 he accidentally poked a knife in his eye. What was called a “sympathetic infection” soon cost him sight in the other eye as well and by the age of 7 he was enrolled in the Tennessee School for the Blind.
Schools for the blind often focus on music, which is how artists from Blind Willie McTell and Ray Charles to Ronnie Milsap got their training. Hargus Robbins too, and he also picked up his nickname because he was fond of playing on the fire escape and often came back inside covered with dirt. .
He half-joked that he got his big break when Floyd Cramer, the top country piano session player of the 1950s, started having hit records, which made his session gigs available. Robbins, whose own solo career wasn’t going much of anywhere, stepped in, starting with a 1957 George Jones session. As a teenager he was playing on Jones’s “White Lightning.”
Sixty-plus years later, Robbins was still at it. The book on him said he was easy to work with and he made stars sound better.
He was a smart aleck only when Ben Colder needed one.
