At a time when Elvis Presley could get to the number one spot with song that sometimes clocked in at under a hundred and twenty seconds, it's incredible to think that Robbins insisted that his self-penned narrative "El Paso" come out with a running time north of the four-and-a-half minute mark. Though they initially resisted, record label Columbia worked out a compromise in which an edited down version on the B-side could be offered up to radio stations and fans who weren't keen to sit through the full thing. Most opted for the much longer A-side. In a few years' time, both Bob Dylan and The Beatles will end up doing their part in dismantling the values of pop music brevity but a NASCAR enthusiast and hardcore conservative from the American south would beat them to it. That said, he was hardly alone in the mid to late fifties for pushing the boundaries of length in recorded music: both Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington had already stretched out their material on the newly popular 12" L.P. format.
Like "St. Louis Blues" and "Sophisticated Lady" before it and "Like a Rolling Stone" and "Hey Jude" much later, "El Paso" got away with being longer than your average recording by being utterly marvelous. The shortened version on the flip side cut an entire verse which sort of neutered the song's storyline which people clearly seemed interested in hearing in its entirety. And why wouldn't they? As Tom Breihan points out, it's actually pretty amazing he managed to cram so much storytelling into less than five minutes. (Just imagine how long his first few drafts must have been)
Nice as the gunfighter falls in love with a beautiful girl from south of the border then commits murder plot is, I return to it for the overall sound. Robbin's voice is so smooth and warm. He could easily sound like a giant creep if he chose to lay it on thick but he was too skilled as a vocalist to fall into that trap. The music is similarly seductive, scarcely country music at all beyond the fact that it's by a country singer. This contributes to the curious state in which it becomes this form of progressive country long before the days of country rock, the bluegrass revival and alt country. Not because it is meant to dazzle the ears with skilled playing dynamics but because Marty Robbins had chosen to dip into Mexican music which almost seems to swallow the song whole. Had it been more obviously country it wouldn't ring true but by moving it away from the orthodoxy it becomes a far greater example of country and western music.
"El Paso" ended up being the final number one of the fifties on Canada's CHUM chart but it didn't end up hitting the top spot on the American Hot 100 until the new year when it ushered in the sixties. It sort of works as a hit to bring the curtain down on one decade and/or to bring on a new one, especially since its every bit as forward thinking as many of the groundbreaking chart toppers we'll be seeing in the weeks and months ahead. The conservative country music industry wouldn't be looking to change things up but, luckily, there were forces both from within and without that were going to guide the genre into the future. Robbins may seem like an unlikely figure to do so but that's the thing with those country stars: they're a lot more open-minded than you might expect; indeed, they're often more open-minded that they'd expect.
The only thing is, I can't give "El Paso" anything above an 8. When I don't have it on, I find myself pondering this great song and I begin to convince myself that is indeed a 9 or maybe even a 10. Then I put it on again and my enthusiasm is curbed and it ends up dropping back down a point or two. It's great, I admire it and I really enjoy listening to it but I just wish it made me think, "bloody hell, this is incredible". It's like a painting in a museum or gallery that I can appreciate then walk away from and move on. The sort of thing to really, really like but loving it is a whole other thing.
Score: 8
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