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DARYLE SINGLETARY
Ain't It The Truth

"It's real simple.
I've always said my music has to be simple, heartfelt.
It's got to be close to the bone
and related to gospel in that it's so sincere and honest.
The country I grew up on is like that --
it's true to real life.
Three chord kind of country, Jim Peeves big kinda thing, swing country.
To me, it's all country - and it's all pure.
That's what it's supposed to be about."

For Daryle Singletary, country music isn't a fad or something that's cool. For the slow- talking, gravely-voiced singer, country music is the very fiber of his life, and country music is the bedrock of Ain't It The Truth, his third album for Giant Records.

Produced by Doug Johnson and John Hobbs, Ain't It The Truth is the culmination of a lifetime of hard country, hard work and a commitment to seeking the distillation of Singletary's essence. Ain't It The Truth is ten songs that create a very real picture of what makes the Georgia-born neo-traditionalist tick.

"I moved to Nashville to be a country singer," Singletary explains. "Finally, I'm getting to be the country singer I moved to town to be. Doug and John were very concerned about the songs reflecting that, and letting me be me.

"There's a certain thing that goes on in "The Note", a scratchy, gravely tone to my voice. They accepted that as part of what makes me, me and they really captured that sound on tape."

Certainly his craggy baritone resonates with the note-crushing pain of "The Note," a devastated response of one who can't and won't let go of love's torch in spite of the Dear John brush-off he's received. That rumble is also there, driving the cautionary bluegrass-tinged "Love Or The Lack Of." And the bottomy vibrate also bears up to the tortured loneliness of the cross- generation park bench confession "You Ain't Heard Nothin' Yet."

For Daryle Singletary, who grew up going to gospel sings with his cousins and brother, big emotions aren't something to shy away from. "If I'm gonna be honest (about emotions), then I'm gonna be honest. I've got nothing to hide."

"The passion that's gone into this record is greater than anything I could've imagined. There was such a chemistry between the three of us that I expressed myself more deeply than even I imagined possible. It turned out we all had the same vision musically and emotionally - and I think that's what sets both this album and my singing apart."

Dreaming big, if refusing to be seduced by the promise of glory, has always been Singletary's stock-in-trade. As a youngster going to school in his small Georgia town, Daryle enrolled in every kind of singing class available: boy's solo, chorus, quartet, whatever. When it came time to graduate, his commitment to one facet of education left him sorely lacking elsewhere.

"I got to the last month before graduation, and I'd not taken any physical education," the molten-voiced traditionalist confesses. "And you must have so many hours of physical education to graduate.

"I wasn't sure what to do, so I went to the principal and told him I had a problem. I explained I'd not taken any physical education, and he looked at me for a moment, then said, 'But, Daryle, don't you think you've worked hard exercising your vocal chords all this time?' "That's all he said. And he let me graduate.

Still, it's a long way from driving 50 miles to sing in talent shows to having a major label deal, let alone a string of hit singles. As Singletary recalls, "I grew up on a farm in a small town where everybody knows everybody's business. Everyone knows everything and they don't mind talking about it.

"So you grow up with different views on things. It's very narrow-minded and even a little naive. But it also makes you more considerate of other people, because you know everyone you come in contact with. You grow up saying 'Yes, ma'am' and 'No, sir.' It's respectful of people and I think that's the way most folks want to be treated."

From that place, young Daryle first began dreaming of a life in front of country music's footlights. But those dreams don't always seem attainable to someone who would travel to Tallahassee, Florida to see artists like Randy Travis keeping the pilot light of classic country alive

"I was a big farm boy," Singletary says with a laugh. "I thought that I was cool. I was working at a tractor dealership, trying to work my way up to salesman from the bottom.

"We do a lot of peanut harvesting where I'm from, so I learned to fix peanut combines and hay balers. I worked in the parts department and swept the floors. Basically, I did whatever there was to do.

"But, as fate would have it, I had this dream. Right after I made the decision to move to Nashville and try to make it as a singer, that tractor dealership up and closed."

Daryle Singletary made the leap into the jaws of fate. Though his big break would take time; at least he was pursuing his passion. And if that meant being one of 50 or 75 hopefuls on any given night in any given nightspot, that was okay. He had drive and determination - and he also watched a couple young hopefuls break through.

"I don't really remember Tim (McGraw) as much as I do Tracy Lawrence," Singletary recalls of his days hustling for singing slots at Nashville's true underground of real honky tonks. "We left the Rose Room over on Stewarts Ferry Pike one night, and I remember thinking, 'Who is that guy?"

"Not long after, he got his deal. That's what kept me working hard at the dream. I'd seen somebody doing what I was doing be successful...and it told me that this path can lead to where I wanted to be.

"It was always a dream, deep down inside. It was always something I wanted, to be able to see people get as emotional from what I'm singing as the music makes me feel. I didn't know if it would ever happen, but I figured the only chance I had was persistence.

The fact that he'd moved in with a guy from back home who'd worked on the road crew for Tanya Tucker, then Randy Travis didn't hurt. While Daryle was singing demos and working on an independent deal, he cut "Old Pair of Shoes" for an indie single. His friend played Daryle's version for Randy Travis, who wanted to record the song himself. Singletary gave Travis the song, and found management in the bargain.

Encouraged by the response he received from Elizabeth Travis Management, Singletary continued on. Not long after, he was signed by James Stroud to Giant Records. A string of hits soon followed, including, "I Let Her Lie," "Too Much Fun," and "Amen Kind Of Love."

As art tends to mirror the life of the creator, Singletary's music has grown more reflective. His marriage to Keny three years ago gave him a broader musical spectrum, in addition to inspiration for those love ballads.

And on Ain't It The Truth, the warm molasses-soaked voiced Singletary explores how deep love can run. Whether it's the funky promise/declaration of Delbert McClinton's, "My Baby's Lovin'," the giant-killer power of the emotion that defines Jerry Reed's, "Thing Called Love," or the eternal flame of the rejected, "That's Where You're Wrong," these songs plumb the depths of man's most profound feeling.

"We took the lover's way, definitely," Singletary concedes. "When you're recording all these songs, you don't necessarily think about what they have in common. But it really does come down to what a big feeling love is.

"All these songs are about people who are in love forever. Whether they're loved back or not, these folks love the other person desperately and forever. And, truthfully, that kind of love that won't die is one of the themes that makes country music great."

Indeed, the only thing in Singletary's life that can measure up to his capacity for love and hurt is his reverence for country music. As he says quietly and humbly, "I love singing country music. It's my passion. But before I ever became a country singer, I was a country fan...and no matter what I do, I'll always be a fan of country music."

With reverence like that for the music, it's no wonder Daryle Singletary was so committed to making an album with puddles of steel guitar, weeping fiddle parts, plinking honky tonk piano and needle-nose guitar solos. To Singletary, the classic country sounds need to prevail.

That's why he wrote a song detailing what makes the legends legends. It's why when all was said and done he wanted to let people know what the musical bottom line is. It's why he called the song "Ain't It The Truth." And there's no better title for an album that's about all the essential elements of good, true country music.

Ain't that the truth? Indeed.

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