Visionary’s backing band carries on his singular rodeo rock ’n’ roll

By Jerry Fink

Tuesday, Dec. 2, 2008 | 2 a.m.

Chris LeDoux was a champion bareback rider and innovative musician who created a genre all his own — rodeo rock ’n’ roll.

The popular performer retired from rodeo competition in 1980. He died of cancer in 2005.

He began recording in the early ’70s and gained a degree of popularity with “A Cowboy Like Me,” “Too Tough to Die” and “What More Could a Cowboy Need?”

LeDoux — a member of the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame — had a cult following until Garth Brooks mentioned his name in the 1989 hit song “Much Too Young (To Be This Damn Old).” After that LeDoux signed with Capitol Records and became a genuine star.

He recorded 36 albums during his career and sold nearly 6 million records.

His backup band for 16 years, Western Underground, has been carrying on LeDoux’s upbeat, energetic style of country-rock music ever since.

Mark Sissel, the band’s guitar player and manager, talked to the Sun recently from his home in Nashville, Tenn.

When Chris LeDoux died, did the group think about calling it quits?

There was no thought of going forward. I don’t think any of us thought about continuing without Chris. We were just Chris’ band, although he told us many times, “You should go be a band.” He listened to us during our sound checks when we would just play music — sort of jammed while the sound guy got his stuff. Chris came up and said, “What is that you’re playing?” I said, “I don’t know, we’re just playing.” He said, “You guys should be a band.” I said, “We are. We’re your band.” He said, “Yeah, but I might want to retire or slow down.”

A few weeks after he passed I was thinking, “I’m not going to see any of those fans anymore.” And that stuck out in my mind as much as anything. I’m thinking, I know some of these people like I know my family. It always felt like a big family. So I started thinking that I’d like to see those folks again, maybe do a few shows at special places we played so many times — some annual events like the Tumbleweed Calf Fry in Stillwater, Okla., and the Country Jam in Grand Junction, Colo. There were several places we felt like were really special. So I talked to the guys and said, “What if we just went out do our goodbye tour, say farewell?” Chris didn’t get a chance to do that.

Ultimately I talked to Dustin Evans; he’d opened for us 20 or 25 times with his band through the years. Chris’ son, Ned, was playing drums in Dustin’s band when we weren’t working because Chris was sick. Dustin wasn’t sure — he didn’t want anyone thinking he was trying to fill Chris’ shoes. Anyway, we did it with intention of doing some shows through the end of 2005, but the response was great and we felt sort of a healing to start with and so we just kept touring.

How did Western Underground become LeDoux’s band?

We were a house band at Sandy’s Station, a club in Sandy, Utah, just outside of Salt Lake City. He came in one night and hired the whole band. This guy doing some audio for Chris knew us and brought him around to see us. It just worked out. We talked money and he said, “OK, let’s go.” That was in 1989. We did a few gigs, but we kept the house gig at Sandy’s for a while. The first thing we did was make a record. We didn’t know Chris too well, but we got to know each other by making this record called “Powder River,” the last independent record he did before signing with Capitol. We did that in Salt Lake. We rehearsed in my basement. It took off, and then we started doing some shows, county fairs, a rodeo or two.

At what point did you realize you had something special?

What I knew from the start was that this was a special guy. He’d say something like, “Say, you know when the sky’s kind of purply and the wind’s blowing the sand through that windmill and the windmill’s kind of creakin’ and a fly buzzes around and lands on your lip — you know that sound?” And I was just looking at him, thinking, “Wow, I’ve never heard anybody describe music quite like he does.” He didn’t know anything about music. I’d say, “How many bars before you want us to come in?” and he’d say, “What’s a bar?” “Well, in this case you count to four — one, two, three four.” And he’d say, “Hum, well, whenever you want to come in just go ahead.” His approach was like that. He talked about music in terms of pictures and visions. That’s how he explained it to you, and your job was to make it sound like that.

Are you doing much recording?

We put out a CD in 2007 called “Unbridled” and we just released a single from the album “Good Ol’ Days to Come.” Selecting the music, we were trying to keep things on the positive side. We didn’t want to switch over and do hard drinkin’, hurtin’, cheatin’ songs. Chris always said, “They’re not bad, I just can’t sing them.” So we kind of stick to that same road.

How do your concerts compare to performances with LeDoux?

We mix it up with some LeDoux material and our entire record and some songs we didn’t have on the record. We’re not trying to mimic the guy, but to remain true to his music, carrying on the sense of full throttle rodeo rock ’n’ roll.