The achievement seems quaintly irrelevant now, but I once took great pride in my principal role in creating a bluegrass section in Walmart’s music department during my stint as a sales representative for independent record labels covering the central swathe of the United States during the 1990s.
My enthusiasm for the then up-and-coming Alison Krauss rubbed off on the world’s most powerful country music buyers. Recognizing that bluegrass had little in common with the likes of Garth Brooks and Tim McGraw, we formulated a plan to carve out precious shelf space for the high, lonesome sound.
Walmart being Walmart, the initiative involved a significant outlay of marketing dollars, the creation of new lines of budget CDs and buckets of my own blood, sweat and tears. Del McCoury bailed me out at an extremely perilous moment.
I’d arranged to have McCoury and his band perform at a Walmart convention. I was ecstatic that my pitch for the bluegrass initiative would be bolstered by the presence of the legend. My elation turned to horror on the morning of the event.
I was told that rather than making a single presentation to a large group as planned, I would need to do the same song-and-dance for several breakout panels throughout the day. I was compelled to beg McCoury and his band to rearrange their schedule accordingly. While understandably displeased, the musicians conceded to my request.
This recollection is prompted by Almost Proud, the outlandishly excellent new album by The Del McCoury Band. Now 83, McCoury sounds as fit as a fiddle on the drinking song “Brown Paper Bag” and dispenses hard-earned wisdom on the title track.
Alas, there’s no longer several feet of bluegrass-dedicated shelf space to rack albums like Almost Proud at Walmart. Yet while it lasted, my McCoury-abetted bluegrass endeavor enhanced my profile and led to a few life-changing paydays. I’ll always be indebted to the man.