Above: Johnny Neill and me
Bill Barwick, 2009 WMA Male Vocalist of the YearBack story: I guess the first "cowboy singer" I got to know is Bill Barwick. As a matter of fact, I used Bill and a couple of his friends, on a music video for Encore Westerns. There were several musicians who would work with Bill when they were available and when they performed they were booked as "Bill Barwick and Friends." Johnny Neill is a wonderful fiddle player who has expanded into other instruments as well. It was just natural to write about them and the feeling all of us get when we hear them make music. I coined the term, "Sons of the Tumbleweed," more as a description of the group than anything else. But after hearing the poem, they decided that they would call themselves Sons of the Tumblweed. Bill even used that as the title for one of his wonderful Western music CDs. If you look inside the jacket liner, you'll see the poem.
Sons of the Tumbleweed
They sing of ring-tailed ponies
and ridin’ for the brand.
And you can almost smell the campfire
when you hear this cowboy band.
There’s “Guitar Bill” and “Fiddlin’ John”
and the friends of the double-B.
And all who hear, just sing along
with these sons of the tumbleweed.
When Johnny Neill starts playin’,
it’s like hearin’ history.
You’d swear that music’s comin’
from 1883
when a cowboy and his lady
would dance Virginia’s Reel
or waltz away the evenin’
waitin’ for a kiss to steal.
And when Bill Barwick gets goin’
his fingers fairly fly.
You can hear the cattle runnin’
and those riders in the sky.
You can feel the mornin’ mistin’
on the Colorado slopes,
see a sunset on the prairie
with the deer and antelopes.
There’s “Guitar Bill” and “Fiddlin’ John”
and the friends of the double-B.
And all who hear, just sing along
with these sons of the tumbleweed.
Cause they sing of ring-tailed ponies
and ridin’ for the brand.
And you can almost smell the campfire
when you hear this cowboy band.
Sons of the Tumbleweed
They sing of ring-tailed ponies
and ridin’ for the brand.
And you can almost smell the campfire
when you hear this cowboy band.
There’s “Guitar Bill” and “Fiddlin’ John”
and the friends of the double-B.
And all who hear, just sing along
with these sons of the tumbleweed.
When Johnny Neill starts playin’,
it’s like hearin’ history.
You’d swear that music’s comin’
from 1883
when a cowboy and his lady
would dance Virginia’s Reel
or waltz away the evenin’
waitin’ for a kiss to steal.
And when Bill Barwick gets goin’
his fingers fairly fly.
You can hear the cattle runnin’
and those riders in the sky.
You can feel the mornin’ mistin’
on the Colorado slopes,
see a sunset on the prairie
with the deer and antelopes.
There’s “Guitar Bill” and “Fiddlin’ John”
and the friends of the double-B.
And all who hear, just sing along
with these sons of the tumbleweed.
Cause they sing of ring-tailed ponies
and ridin’ for the brand.
And you can almost smell the campfire
when you hear this cowboy band.
If you want more information on Bill Barwick, check out his web site: http://www.barwicksvoice.com/
And if you're ever in Denver on a Saturday night, look for him at the Historic Buckhorn Exhcange.
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