Monday, March 13, 2006

To Hell And Back

By Blair Lovern

AUSTIN — Dale Watson has been out of the music scene for not quite three months, and honestly for some weird reason it seems like it's been three years.

"Where have you been, darlin', I thought you left the country?" said an older woman with a crinkly face who snuggled up beside him in a booth at the Frisco Night Hawk. Her face got more crinkly when she smiled, but she beamed like a little kid when she got a hug.

Since the first of the year, Watson has been on a career break in Baltimore with his two daughters, Rachel, age 13, and Dalynn Cash, 7. He used to rumble into the Frisco diner parking lot on his white Indian on a regular basis before a show at Ginny's a few blocks down the road. Now he's Mr. HGTV, laying down insulation, remodeling floors and windows - in general, fixing up a house he bought for his daughters and ex-wife half a country away.

Watson was in Austin this past weekend for the premier of the Zalman King documentary, Crazy Again at SXSW, plus three shows. (The first one Saturday night just about broke the Spoke for real. Folks in charge there said they hadn't seen a crowd like that in at least 30 years.)

If the past few months have seemed like a long time for fans, it is utterly unimaginable to know what it had been like for Dale Watson the past few years to have missed himself.

Crazy Again follows Watson and his Lone Stars band on a road trip to the Ryman in 2003. At the time King was researching material for an upcoming feature-length musical called Austin Angel, about a country singer who sells his soul to the devil. During that trip to Nashville, however, King found out that Watson had gone through a spooky and devastating experience of his own.

"This documentary almost began as an accident," said Crazy Again and Austin Angel producer David Saunders. "But it came out as something we're proud of and I think deserves to be seen."

Watson told King about the demons that haunted him after the death of his girlfriend, Terri Herbert, in a car wreck in 2000. Watson fell into a depression and blamed himself for her death because the two had gotten in an argument not long before the accident. In the documentary he said he didn't want to take his own life back then because he was worried he'd go to hell – but he wanted the police to gun him down after starting a shootout. (As is explained in the movie, he almost got his wish.)

Over time it seemed to friends as if Watson was doing his best to get through it all. But he turned to psychics, new age religion and a Ouija board to try to contact Terri from beyond, and that's when things got chilling. Watson said he began to hear voices from some sort of spiritual advisor. Later he heard from Terri and even from Jesus. At first the messages were benign. Then they turned bizarre. While in Europe on tour in 2002, Watson said the voice gave him two extra Biblical commandments to take to the Pope at the Vatican.

"We were in England back then," Watson said in an interview after the movie. "I cut the European tour three days short, gave everyone in the band severance pay and all that and I kind of just took off by myself. There was talk of going to Jerusalem, even. But I ended up being in Rome."

Watson said the voice told him people at the Vatican would know who he was, why he was there and that getting to the Pope wouldn't be a problem. He walked around the Vatican for three days in a row and no one said a word to him. Watson said the voice told him he was losing his faith by not being able to find the Pope. Until that point Watson said he had been questioning his sanity, but realizing he was in Rome on commandment duty was the last straw. Then the voice turned from bizarre to evil. He said it told him all other voices he had heard until then hadn't been on his side, and that the voice had actually been that of Satan. Watson desperately wanted to get back to Texas for help but there were no plane tickets available that third day in Rome. He said that night was about the worst of his life. In his hotel, Watson said he was physically and mentally attacked by demons.

"Everybody can diagnose it or do this or that, but it won't make it any less real," Watson said about Rome. "You can say it was nervous breakdown or a paranormal thing or whatever you want to call it, I don't know. What was in the movie, what I was talking about – that's what it was, that's what happened."

When Watson got back home he checked himself into Austin State Hospital for psychiatric treatment. Never really a religious man before, he began to read the Bible there and write gospel songs. During the course of the next several days, Watson told doctors the voices gradually faded off and he was released. They haven't been back, he says.

Watson ultimately wrote a 70-page fictional story about his ordeal, which evolved into full-sized nonfiction account. The book, which doesn't have a release date yet, "goes into a lot more detail than you saw in the movie," he said. "In fact, it's pretty graphic detail.

"But I made a promise that if I ever got out if whatever happened, got away from Satan, that I'd do a gospel album and I'd write the book, although I'm still a hell raiser. I don't know what that will be like - a hell raiser putting out a gospel album."

Dale Watson

Watson's bass player Gene Kurtz said he had never heard a complete take on what had happened until he saw the movie Saturday.

"I always knew what Dale went through was really horrific but this was a real eye-opener. I hope the movie helps bring closure for him," Kurtz said. "But I also hope it can be kind of a counterbalance for that time period because the movie goes through some great stuff like us being at the Ryman, which was very special. The band has a good time on the road and I'm glad Dale can get to remember those times, too."

These days, Watson said his life couldn't be better. His career is certainly humming. The new CD, Whiskey or God, hits stores March 21; Austin Angel is scheduled to begin production this summer; he's recorded enough material for a gospel album; he's booking shows across America; Crazy Again is being shopped for a theatrical and broadcast release; a soundtrack to the documentary is in the works.

In the meantime, Watson said he'll be living in Baltimore with his daughters until late this summer.

"My night usually ends at 10 o'clock," he said. "I'm up at 7 a.m., taking them to school, fixing them breakfast. It's a lot of fun. It felt really weird at first on weekends, not going anywhere on Friday and Saturday nights. But I like it."

He plans to move back to Austin later in the year, although that doesn't mean the family time is over. He'll be able to visit Rachel and Dalynn Cash (named after Dale, Loretta Lynn and Johnny Cash) for a week every month, thanks to a sponsorship deal with Continental Airlines.

Watson says it's been a little too cold in Baltimore for his liking, "but the area we're staying in is a real apple pie kind of place, it's a good neighborhood. I've gotten into the crab cakes and seafood, although I'm not a big crab fan as far as cracking them open and everything.

"I've liked where I've gotten with my career, but it was getting to the point where wasn't seeing my kids enough. I was happy with almost everything, but that I was not happy with. It was a Catch-22 thing: I would work a whole lot, pay for plane tickets and take the time off and go see them. But when I took the time off I wasn't making any money. I was having fun doing what I was doing. But it's important to me to have a personal life and to be happy outside of music. I need that balance.

"Life is beautiful, man. It's always throwing you something. But I have to say I'm really blessed, I'm one blessed person for sure."

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