February 28, 2005

By MARIO TARRADELL / The Dallas Morning News

A few years ago, country traditionalist Lee Ann Womack dolled up and struck a come-hither pose for Matthew Rolston, a fashion photographer known for his shots of stars such as Cyndi Lauper and Jennifer Lopez. The glamorous picture became the cover of Ms. Womack's 2002 album, Something Worth Leaving Behind. That cover telegraphed a clear change: Lee Ann Womack was going pop.

It didn't go well.

Jason Janik / DMN Lee Ann Womack show performing at a club in Fort Worth, Texas.

Ms. Womack's next big photo session produced a CD cover that could pass for one of Tammy Wynette's early '70s album jackets. A sheer veil covers her soft blond locks, sweet smile and summery halter-top, lending a golden hue. And again, the message couldn't be more plain: 2005's There's More Where That Came From would be a traditional country album – twin fiddles, moaning pedal steel guitars and mandolins; stories of cheating, hard lessons and heartbreak.

"When I started making this record, I said I'm gonna have fun, and that's it. I'm not going to worry about does this sound right coming from a woman, or is this too country, or is this intro too long?" says Ms. Womack. She's nursing a bowl of oatmeal with butter and brown sugar during a breakfast interview. The Jacksonville, Texas, native was in town for the release of There's More Where That Came From.

"I wanted this record to sound like where I came from."

Ms. Womack is the genre's latest artist to start out traditional, flirt with pop, then hightail it back to country. Her brief detour puts her in good company with icons such as Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn as well as big-selling stars Garth Brooks and LeAnn Rimes.

There's nothing wrong with a little experimentation, of course, as long as you don't lose your artistic identity. Mr. Nelson pulled it off with 1982's Always On My Mind and especially 1978's collection of pop standards, Stardust. But Ms. Parton had trouble staying focused. While her 1977 pop foray, Here You Come Again, succeeded by mixing plenty of Dolly's personality with mainstream hooks and melodies, 1988's Rainbow bombed because it glossed over her distinctive style.

Sometimes confusing the die-hard fans leads to sure failure. Mr. Brooks became another character, Chris Gaines, for his doomed pop effort, 1999's In the Life of Chris Gaines. He left millions of admirers scratching their heads, wondering what he was doing. For Ms. Rimes, 2002's Twisted Angel seemed more a product of her teenage rebellion than a legitimate change of musical pace.

The country music industry has a history of toying with a more mainstream – not to mention lucrative – pop sound. The stylistic pendulum swings back and forth in Nashville. Time-travel to the late '70s and early '80s, for instance, and you'll find Kenny Rogers and Anne Murray, two influential artists who recorded a slew of pop-crossover hits. By the latter half of the '80s, Randy Travis and Dwight Yoakam had ushered in the new traditionalist movement. The early '90s country boom spearheaded by Garth Brooks and Clint Black gave way to the music of late '90s pop-country queens Shania Twain and Faith Hill.

Ms. Womack's excursion into pop was sparked by the mammoth success of 2000's I Hope You Dance, a 3-million-selling CD that produced the smash title cut, a hit on the country, pop and adult contemporary charts. The album was a thoughtfully conceived blend of her traditional country base and smoother pop elements.

She felt the stifling pressure of following up such a huge record, so she made herself miserable in the studio while recording Something Worth Leaving Behind. She had pop producer Matt Serletic (Matchbox Twenty) soup up an alternate version of "Something Worth Leaving Behind," hoping it would ensure the same mass-appeal of "I Hope You Dance."

The whole endeavor sank. "Something Worth Leaving Behind" peaked at No. 20 on Billboard's country singles chart and never crossed over to pop or adult contemporary. The album didn't fare much better; it sold barely 300,000 copies, according to Nielsen SoundScan.

"I didn't have that much fun making Something Worth Leaving Behind," she says before taking a sip of coffee. Ms. Womack, dressed in blue jeans and a flowery halter-top draped by a beige shawl, is refreshingly honest.

"Now that I look back on it, because of the success that I had prior, I was so worried that I was gonna not measure up to that, that I over-thought everything on that record. I tried ... to please everybody with that record ... myself, radio, the listeners, everybody who loved 'Never Again, Again' and everybody who loved 'I Hope You Dance.' And it just didn't work. It backfired."

After the album's demise, Ms. Womack kept a low profile. She recorded a big-band Christmas disc, 2002's The Season for Romance, and all but disappeared. For a while, she wasn't sure she wanted to make another album. It was her label, MCA Nashville, that coaxed her back into the studio.

"I was sitting at home after Something Worth Leaving Behind thinking, 'Gosh, I thought this is what people wanted. And they didn't want it so obviously I don't know.' And they were the ones who came to me and said, 'When are you going to give us a record?' That's when I started thinking, 'Well, if they want a record, I'll make 'em one.' "

But this time she was determined to please only one person – herself. She followed Dolly's cue, who released Rainbow as a way to cash in on the attention surrounding her glitzy, short-lived TV variety series. Ms. Parton quickly made an about-face with 1989's White Limozeen, a great country record that generated four radio staples.

The return to country worked for Ms. Womack, too. There's More Where That Came From sold a healthy 83,000 copies its first week in stores. The disc's first single, a classic cheating ballad titled "I May Hate Myself in the Morning," sits in the Top 15.

Traditional country music in its purest form is a rarity these days: songs characterized by organic musicianship heavy on fiddles and steel guitars; emotional songs painting everyday subjects as universal truths. Radio airplay lists are full of pop-tinged hitmakers, from Rascal Flatts to Keith Urban, Josh Gracin to Jamie O'Neal. But for those such as Alan Jackson, Brad Paisley and Ms. Womack, who cling to a bygone era, the more traditional approach incites plenty of passion.

"That's my favorite kind," says Ms. Womack. "I mean, it fires me up. Traditional country is the most beautiful thing in the world. And you know I don't sing country music because I'm not capable of singing other kinds of music. I sing it because I just love it."

For those unfamiliar with real country, one listen to There's More Where That Came From might convince them Ms. Womack's marriage to record producer-publisher Frank Liddell is in trouble. Cheating and leaving, aging and reflecting are prevalent topics. The CD has a melancholy feel with plenty of soul-bearing power. But the Nashville-based mother of two daughters assures her domestic life couldn't be happier. While she only co-wrote one tune, the reflective "Twenty Years and Two Husbands Ago," she felt drawn to these songs.

People ask her why she likes "sad stuff" so much, she says.

"I have no explanation for why I can put on 'A Good Year for the Roses,' crank it up and just ... it does something to me. It makes me happy. I don't understand what's going on there but it does."

In "One's a Couple," she's a melancholy bar maid trying to drown the sorrows of a relationship two years gone. During "Twenty Years and Two Husbands Ago," she looks back on youth, a failed marriage and newfound stability. And on the CD's title cut, she's lured into an adulterous affair even when she knows it's wrong. "Then he'll call to say that he sure had fun," she sings, "Just so I'll know there's more where that came from."

Connecting with these songs happens instantly, she says.

"I'm just like – zing! It's an art. It's kind of like being an actress playing a role. That's what I stepped into when I recorded this."

Ms. Womack probably won't be acting the pop diva again anytime soon. She did enjoy taking those glam shots. "Who gets to work with Matthew Rolston? I mean, it's not like I'm Cindy Crawford. That was so huge and so much fun."

But the pop music thing isn't a snug fit. When asked whether she personally loves the music on There's More Where That Came From, her answer's immediate: "Oh God, yes."

And what about the songs on Something Worth Leaving Behind? Her response is equally succinct: "Some of that, not all of that."

But just because she's a traditionalist doesn't mean Ms. Womack will stop experimenting.

"Some people maybe have a formula so that it sounds like they are cutting the same song over and over again," she says. "And it works for them. I've never done things like that. I went from 'Never Again, Again' to 'Something Worth Leaving Behind,' totally different. And I'll continue to do that."