When Stanley Dural, Jr. better known as Buckwheat Zydeco to his many fans- titled his 1997 album Trouble, he had no idea how prophetic the title would be. Despite the instant-classic quality of songs such as “Hard to Stop,” “Put It in the Pocket,” and the title cut, the album met with disappointing sales, in large part because Mesa Records, the label on which the album appeared, was bought by Atlantic Records, and Trouble got lost in the shuffle.
Of course, Buckwheat Zydeco was not just any zydeco act. Ever since Dural and his band released On a Night like This on Island Records 12 years ago, they’ve set a standard of excellence and success that every other zydeco band, whether it admits it or not, would pay dearly to reach. In addition to releasing albums on major labels (1992′s On Track for the Virgin-owned Charisma joins his Island and Atlantic titles), he’s toured as an opening act for Eric Clapton, performed on Keith Richards’ Talk Is Cheap, made several appearances on the David Letterman show, played for the Clinton inaugural bashes, hosted cameo appearances by Willie Nelson and Mavis Staples on his 1994 album, Five Card Stud, supplied the music for numerous ads and soundtracks, and earned an entry in The New Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock and Roll. He also played a rousing version of Hank Williams’s “Jambalaya” to bring the Closing Ceremonies of the 1996 Summer Olympics to a boil.
Convinced that Trouble was his “best [album] in a dozen years” and that Atlantic’s underpromotion of it was a harbinger of underpromotion to come, Dural and his manager-best friend Ted Fox broke more new zydeco ground and formed their own label, Tomorrow Recordings. Named after Dural’s 13-year-old daughter, the label will provide Dural with an opportunity that he’s never had but always wanted: the opportunity to release albums whenever he wants and to directly oversee their distribution and promotion. “This way,” he says, “if there’s a mistake, I can’t blame nobody but myself.” The label’s first release will be the January-1999 reissue of Trouble.
If any zydeco artist-manager combination can succeed as entrepreneurs, Dural and Fox are the one. If the www.buckwheatzydeco.com website alone testifies to their knack for self-promotion, Dural’s Carencro home testifies to the material benefits that a carefully tended zydeco career can bring. Lavishly yet tastefully furnished and decorated by his wife Bertine, the Dural residence looks more like an example of something one would see on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous than on a PBS documentary of farm-dwelling Louisiana musicians.
Another prophetic aspect of the Trouble album is its inclusion of a cover of Robert Johnson’s “Crossroads,” for by taking his career into his own hands after nearly 20 years of letting record companies call the shots, the 51-year-old “zydeco success story” is placing himself at a crossroads indeed. Nevertheless, he welcomes the challenge. And if his naming of his projects continues to function as thinly veiled prophecy, “Tomorrow” sounds like a reason for optimism if ever there was one.
Counting compilations, you’ve made 15 albums for eight different labels. Why have you stuck to one or two-album deals?
I made a bad mistake many years ago by signing a contract with a record company here in Louisiana. I got caught up in that contract for, like, five records got caught up in that spider web and I promised myself I would never do it again.
Why did you do it in the first place?
Sometimes you get so ambitious that you don’t think about it. You get tied up in your profession. But it’s so hard when you can’t do what you want because somebody else got a hold on you. It’s almost like slavery again. There’s a lot of people out there who are stuck and really want to get out, but they can’t because they used that little thing called a pen to sign their name some things.
Whom did you sign with?
J.D. Miller. It was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.
That was in the ’70s?
That was 1979, when I first started this group, Buckwheat Zydeco. Then after J.D. Miller was Rounder Records. I did a couple of CDs with them. And from Rounder, I went with Island. Chris Blackwell was the owner at that time, and Island Records was really good for me. Rounder did very well too. Then we went to Charisma and then back to Island.
So you’ve deliberately signed one-or-two-album deals to avoid the “spider web”?
Yes. You sign with a company to record, and then you’re stuck there for years. And the thing is, if they say, “Let’s just hold it for a little while” and decide to put you on the shelf, it’s done. I don’t think it’s right. So that’s why you now see Dural Music, Tomorrow Records, Buckwheat Zydeco Productions. That’s where I am now.
You’ve said that you were you unhappy with the way Mesa/Atlantic promoted Trouble the first time it was released.
They didn’t promote it. When you go to different cities and you have an audience out there of thousands of people and you can’t find your record in the record store, something’s wrong. It’s like the company telling me it don’t have no time for me. Well, I don’t have no time for the company. I can do bad by myself.
Did you actually look in stores for the album when you were on tour?
Of course. I made it my business to. You’re talking about my career. I work hard to put this music on a CD. Now, what are you going to do about it?
Were there some cities where you found your album in stock?
There were some, but I can count them on one hand, and I don’t think it’s fair. I travel 10 months out of the year and tour nationally and internationally to promote this record. That’s why I’m out there when it’s 30 below zero. I live in a state Louisiana that when we get seven degrees, everything shuts down. Now, if I’m going to leave here at seven degrees and go somewhere where it’s 10 or 20 below zero, either I want to accomplish something or something’s wrong with my head.
At what point in the year-and-a-half since Trouble first came out did you decide to start your own label?
Before I even signed to do this record. I didn’t want to do it for another company because I was up to my neck with that. I said, “Enough is enough.”
So why did you sign with Mesa/Atlantic?
Well, we needed a record out, and, please believe me, I thought about it. It took me about eight months to decide to go on and do the record even though I knew I needed one out. I was, like, “No more records for record companies. Let’s get ourselves on the ball and do this thing ourselves.” And my mind don’t fool me. We did this record and got caught up in the spider web again.
You should’ve listened to your mind.
That’s what happened. This record come out, and there was no production because the record company was in the mix being bought and sold. So I said to myself, “I didn’t want to, I did, and I got that same experience again. No more” (laughs)! Now I don’t have any ties with anybody.
Did you have any trouble getting the rights to this album back?
Well, whenever you do things with a record company, you always have a lot of paperwork, and you have lawyers involved in everything. But I don’t call it trouble because I got it back. The trouble is not getting your stuff back when you feel in your heart that you can do something with it.
Do you eventually want to get your older albums back too?
Yeah, I’d love to. Like I said, Island and Rounder have been very good for us, but record companies can stop selling you or Elvis Presley or the Beatles because they’ve got a thousand other artists they can sell. You know that old slogan, “You’ve got too many irons in the fire”? You shouldn’t sign up a hundred people if you can only take care of 10. Atlantic Records is a major company, very major. They don’t have to worry about no Buckwheat Zydeco. As a matter of fact, they’re doing me a favor. So I’m not saying they’re no good. They are good. But they have all the people they need. So where does that put me? It’s like we took a 747 flying to Chicago, and I got my ticket, but the airline is full, and unless somebody gets out of their seat, I’m stuck in an airport. So, yes, I’d love to get my music back. Let me work it a little bit. I know I’m not going to hurt me.
How big a priority is getting your music back?
Well, first of all, I don’t live in the past. I remember it, but I don’t live in it. Why work so hard on yesterday when I can put my mind on tomorrow?
Speaking of tomorrow, are you and Ted Fox partners in Tomorrow Recordings?
We are, yeah. Ted Fox and myself, we’re a partnership in this new thing we’re doing, and I couldn’t have picked a better gentleman to be in this business with me. He’s about the best thing that could’ve happened to me in the music business.
What exactly does he do?
He handles the business part of the organization. My job is to get on-stage and perform. I can’t strap my accordion on him and say, “You play Town Hall tonight” (laughs), and I can’t get on his computer and say, “Let me call these people in Australia.” I’ll go to Australia, but I don’t know the people that we’re dealing with (laughs). I used to do all this by myself, and it was too much for the brain. I had to make sure that we’d get to where we had to be, I had to make sure all my musicians were together, I had to make sure all the equipment was together, I had to make sure that all the motels were together everything. Now I can concentrate on performing.
How did you get the Summer Olympics gig in 1996?
Throughout the years you pay your dues, and people start opening their ears and stop closing their minds. And by Buckwheat Zydeco traveling nationally, and internationally, we catch people’s ear, and they say, “We’ve heard of these guys, we’ve heard their music, we like them, and we’d like to get them on the show.”
That’s how you got the Olympics gig?
Yeah. People love the music the culture and the music. See, I like to feel that I represent Louisiana, that I bring this culture to all parts of the planet. People that have been to any one of my concerts know I’m not up there just to make a dollar. I’d leave this music alone and do a nine-to-five if that’s what I was all about. Some people get swelled in the head, you know? I have a lot of hats, and I can wear them all.
Paul Shaffer was the musical director. Did your experience playing on the David Letterman show have anything to do with your getting the closing slot?
What happened was, I got a phone call from Paul Shaffer and Paul is one God-Almighty artist, man (laughs)! This cat I mean, whew! You talk about big guns! Anyway, he says, “Buck, in the introduction to ‘Jambalaya,’ how would we play this song?” I said, “How do you want to hear it?” He said, “Wait, you mean you can play it ” I said, “I can play it any kind of tempo you want, any direction you want to go. You just tell me what you want to hear.” And he said, “Well, let me see what you’ve got.” I said, “O.K.” I played one. I played another one, another one, another one, and another way. I said, “Is that O.K.?” He said, “Oh, man, I didn’t know that there were so many ways you could play this song.”
Your versatility paid off.
That’s what I would look at. If I come to you and you’re a guitarist and I need to find out something, and you have five ways that you can show me this, I want to know! That’s why it’s not good to let your head be too big because when you get too much of a big head, you forget something. Please believe me. You spend too much time thinking about how big you are instead of learning something.
You’re between albums at the moment. How does your recording schedule affect your writing?
If I know I’m starting a record in six months, I’ll start writing.
You need a deadline.
Yeah.
Do you have a particular way of writing?
Not really. I could be riding around, or I could be sitting right here in my office, and something will click and I’ll write it down. Sometimes I have a few bars of music to a song I just wrote, but the music I’m hearing belongs to other lyrics. Next week I might hear something else and go, “Oh, that’s where that goes! I’ll save this here for something else.” Other times a lot of people say this, but, please believe me, it’s true a song comes to me when I’m taking a shower. I don’t know if the water spoils you and makes you want to sing or what, and I know it sounds crazy, but something will come to me, and I’ll have to get out and write it down because if you don’t you’ll forget it.
What other circumstances tend to inspire you?
Sometimes I’ll be doing a soundcheck and, boom! Here’s a song. And, please believe me, by the time I get off that stage, after my soundcheck, I’ve forgotten it. That’s how come it’s always good to tape these things. Sooner or later I’ll learn (laughs).
You’ve done a lot of your recent recording at Dockside in Maurice. What do you like about that studio?
Dockside, first of all, is a fabulous studio. They have everything you need to do a record, everything. Then it’s sitting right up there on the Vermilion Bayou, and I’m a water freak myself. It’s out in the country it’s fantastic. I love everything about it.
You’d be content to continue to record there.
Very content. The people are very professional. It’s like a breath of fresh air, man. My buddy B.B. King was up there not too long ago. He was out doing Vegas, and he came down here to record. It’s an A-1 place in my book.
When did you first record there?
When I did Five Card Stud.
That album was produced by Steve Berlin and featured cameos by Willie Nelson, Mavis Staples, and David Hidalgo. Was it hard coordinating such a star-studded project?
That’s what’s so good about professionals. I call them real people. The thing is, when I’m invited to do a record with somebody, it’s a compliment, an honor. And when I invite somebody to be on my record and they say, “Sure, Buck!” that’s a good feeling. But you’ve got some who don’t want to hear what you’ve got to say. There are some artists like that, I promise you. But I guess those are the ones that forget where they come from. I call them the people that can’t wear a hat because they’re head’s too big (laughs).
The last song on that album, “Secret of Love,” is a really pretty number.
Yeah, that’s a very good one, that instrumental. It’s sort of like meditation.
Do you have more like that?
Well, a keyboard is home for me. That’s where I come from. I played keyboards professionally on-stage at the age of nine. My mother sang spirituals in the house, and I played piano for her. And, when I get on the keyboard if I’m not funky or something like that I get sentimental, and these tunes come out. I can probably hit about five or six notes on a keyboard, and there’s a song. I don’t know how come it’s like that, but that’s what’s in me.
Do you hope eventually to release albums by other musicians on Tomorrow?
Yes. But, in order to do something like that, you have to be established first. “How can I help you if I can’t help myself?” I’ll help myself first. Then I can help you. I know I’m not going to mistreat myself, and I’m not going to mistreat any other artists. You know how come? I got burned, and I know how I felt. Sometimes I sit back and think about it. I know so many good musicians here in Louisiana who’ve done gave up because of signing a bad contract. They gave all their time to the company, and the company turned around and gave them dada.
It happens everywhere.
It makes me sick. Look at all our good people in Nashville. Man, it hurts my heart. I saw Dolly [Parton] on television one night. Hey! You’re telling me that now you’ve done used me up you don’t care for me anymore? “Well, we can’t do nothing no more with you, Buck, so we’re going to put you out to pasture and let you graze.”
It goes back to too many irons in the fire.
The companies, all they’re worried about “I’ll sell yours, and I’ll sell the other 600 that I have. I don’t have to sell 600 of your copy, just one copy of yours and one copy of the next 599 people.” Please believe me, I don’t think that’s right.
