Eddy kicked around honky tonks in Jackson, Tennessee, making his radio debut there in 1936 and later gracing broadcasts from Memphis and St. Louis. His garnered first big break by joining Pee Wee King's Golden West Cowboys in 1940, gaining access to stages as illustrious as the Grand Old Opry. In 1943, Eddy Arnold began performing under his own name and, in 1944, he signed to RCA Records. Within a year, the race was on. Beginning with "Each Minute Seems A Million Years," Arnold spun a string of 58 (count 'em) Top 10 country chart appearances that continued unbroken for a decade; moreover, many of these country hits crossed over to the pop charts. Among Eddy's most notable records during this period were "That's How Much I Love You," "It's A Sin," "Bouquet Of Roses," and "I'll Hold You In My Heart (Till I Can Hold You In My Arms)." Records like those form Arnold's lasting legacy; no matter what you think of Arnold's later career, these sterling early recordings belong in the collection of any country music fan.

Not content to rule Nashville, Eddy Arnold appeared in Hollywood movies, played Las Vegas casinos, and hosted TV shows, eventually becoming the first country star to host his own nationally-broadcast program, Eddy Arnold Time, in 1955. With the help of his manager, Col. Tom Parker (who later rose to infamy manipulating Elvis Presley), Eddy Arnold had secured his financial future. In the mid-50's, however, rock 'n' roll dealt a body blow to country music. Sales of country records - Arnold's included - fell off, and he entered a relatively fallow period. The seeds of his next major success, however, were already planted. With songs like "I Really Don't Want To Know" (1954) and "You Don't Know Me" (1956), Arnold had already begun to soften his sound while continuing to cut straight-ahead country singles ("Just Call Me Lonesome," 1955). More and more, Arnold and his producers (Chet Atkins, mainly) were piling strings and vocal choruses on top of traditional country combos. In Eddy's own words, "I went in and did something with violins, and 'Boom!'"

Later known as "countrypolitan," an urbane fusion of pop and country, Arnold's new records were essentially pop records with superficial country trappings (the occasional steel guitar, for instance). Some of the songwriting, however, was superlative, and Arnold's voice was still as smooth as honey. During the late 50's and early 60's, Eddy charted consistently with many such records, and he undertook the recording a number of his older hits in this new style - usually to ill effect. But, under new management, his career exploded again in the mid-60's when his sound (and look) took another hard right turn. Trading in his string tie for a tuxedo, Arnold waxed the records for which he is most fondly remembered by his fans, including "What's He Doing In My World" (1965) and "Make The World Go Away" (1966), his first Top 10 pop hit. By the 1970's however, Eddy Arnold's music - already on shaky legs - had descended to the level of rank muzak.

Collecting the music of Eddy Arnold is no easy task, in no small part because his legacy has been poorly served by RCA, his label for the bulk of his career. Let's take stock: Eddy Arnold notched 140 chart entries spanning five decades, selling over 85 million records. The man had 28 #1 hits alone! (No, really - and they're all on Real Gone Music's Complete Original #1 Hits.) I mean, he had so many hits that one of his hits ("Eddy's Song") consisted of the titles of his other hits! By now, RCA should have produced a substantial boxed set; instead, they have persisted in regurgitating roughly the same predictable batch of tracks under a new cover every year or so. Hence, relatively few of these vital recordings remain in print, and those that are must be purchased in piecemeal fashion. Plus, RCA freely licenses Arnold's masters to budget labels, leaving consumers to navigate a minefield of shoddy packages, lackluster masters, and inferior re-recordings.

One shining exception to this infuriating trend is The Tennessee Plowboy And His Guitar, a 5-CD box from German label Bear Family. This treasure trove exhaustively documents Eddy's early, twangy years (1944-1950) and is a must-own for hard-core country aficionados. Obviously, though, the Tennessee Plowboy box is just one piece of the puzzle (albeit the really good piece), and its hefty price tag will be out-of-reach for most consumers. Thankfully, Eddy's Song, a 4-CD box on English budget imprint Proper, culls nearly 100 tracks from roughly the same period. Though hardly the equivalent of Bear Family's stellar box, Eddy's Song is surprisingly well mastered and annotated, and it retails for scarcely twenty bucks. What a deal! Personally, I find much to enjoy in Eddy Arnold's later career (at least through the late 60's), but any self-righteous shit-kickers who find Eddy's countrypolitan sound too easy on the ears will certainly appreciate in his seminal early music.

But, what of that later material - the music most fans will covet? First off, avoid the original RCA albums Best Of Eddy Arnold (1966) or Best Of Eddie Arnold Vol. 2 (1970). Nostalgia value notwithstanding, these CD reissues suffer from poor sound quality and a pittance of tracks. Instead, pick up that same label's Ultimate Eddie Arnold (2003) or the earlier Essential Eddy Arnold (1996), both containing a generous 20 tracks. Ultimate is easily the superior package, surveying Eddy's prime first two decades in chronological order; with the possible exception of the aforementioned Complete Original #1 Hits, it is the smartest, most even-handed overview of Arnold's music ever compiled. While Complete Original #1 Hits has more tracks (28), it skips a few really wonderful songs that didn't make it to the top of the charts (including "Trouble In Mind" and "You Don't Know Me"). On the other hand, Essential covers more ground than either of them (1946-1990), but that all that really means is later, weaker material - plus it substitutes some bowdlerized 60's remakes of some important vintage hits. No matter your preference,though, each CD is an adequate primer. Finally, ASV's Early Hits Of The Tennessee Plowboy, a 25-song, single-disc survey of Arnold's early hillbilly material that scarcely overlaps with Essential, Ultimate, or Complete is an excellent companion for fans with broad tastes but shallow pocketbooks.

Venturing beyond the hits is where RCA's negligence really hurts. Nearly everything else on the market is inferior in some way to the CD's discussed above - crappy compilations for unschooled chumps. Bearing in mind that RCA didn't start issuing long-playing, 12-inch records until the mid-50's, very few of Eddy Arnold's original LP's have been transferred intact to compact disc. Most significant is Cattle Call (1963), a milestone both in Arnold's career - it was his first album to enter the pop charts - and in the ongoing canonization of the American cowboy. Cattle Call consists mainly of modern songs about the Old West, including a new version of Arnold's title track (which he first cut in 1955). Awhile back, Bear Family issued a wonderful CD comprising both Cattle Call and another western-themed LP, Thereby Hangs A Tale (1959). More recently, Collector's Choice issued Cattle Call with in a refurbished, stand-alone version.

Another label, Collectables (seldom noted for their strict quality control), has begun issuing CD two-fers comprised of LP's released through Camden, RCA's budget imprint. An odd choice, for sure, but they're good albums nonetheless. One disc spans That's How Much I Love You (1959) and More Eddy Arnold (1960), while another documents Country Songs I Love To Sing (1963) and Eddy's Songs (1964). Let's hope that Collectables (or someone) continues this trend, eventually restoring the legacy of the Tennessee Plowboy to it's full glory.

And what of that legacy? Well, Eddy Arnold was elected to the Country Music Hall Of Fame in 1966 at the peak of his pop-fueled comeback. Irony noted, but it was an honor richly deserved. If, like Patsy Cline or Hank Williams, Arnold had crashed and burned in his prime, we wouldn't be having this discussion. Very little of what Eddy cut after the late 1960's is worth a listen - in fact, those records are apt to drive staunch country traditionalists to distraction. But if Hank and Patsy had lived, they probably would have mellowed, too, and might be churning out the oldies in Branson as we speak. Maybe not, but Eddy Arnold aged with dignity and grace, and that's more than can be said for the whiskey-soaked denouement of many a Nashville star.

In fact, having been blessed with good health and longevity, Eddy Arnold was granted the opportunity to write his own final chapter. At age 87 (60 years after his first RCA release), Arnold waxed his 100th album, After All These Years (2005) - his planned final recordings. On songs like "Old Porch Swing" and "If I Had Lived My Life Without You," Eddy looks wistfully back on a life well spent. Assisted by the understated production of Cowboy Jack Clement, Arnold - his voice now hushed and occasionally strained - acquits himself nicely, even if his hoarse croon evokes more than a little pity. Compared to, say, the final recordings of Johnny Cash, After All These Years is no masterpiece. Yet it's a gentle, touching collection of songs - and a fitting postscript to Arnold's long, profitable career. Less than three years later, Eddy died as he lived - peacefully - at age 89.

It could be said that without Eddy Arnold - or, more to the point, his unblinking willingness to cater to the mainstream - we might have no Lee Greenwood, no Garth Brooks, no Toby Keith. In short, country music would be better off. But, the legacy of an artist is more than progeny spawned. Nirvana, after all, begat Silverchair, and Jimi Hendrix bequeathed us Robin Trower. Miles Davis's experiments with fusion planted the seeds that eventually spewed forth smooth jazz - and Kenny G! Yet, no one doubts the merits of those musical giants. So, while the value of Eddy Arnold's later music is certainly debatable, and he undoubtedly helped mollify Nashville's precious rebel soul, his pristine country records from the 40's and 50's speak for themselves - if you will but listen. [top of page]