Alright, let’s talk about Missouri Moon Her Memory Jack Daniels And Me by John Marriott Jr with the Forney Brothers Band. Released way back in 1982 on Flying Coyote Records, this little gem falls squarely into the Country genre, though it's got that Folk and World vibe sprinkled in too. It’s one of those albums you stumble across when you're not even looking for anything special—just browsing some dusty old crates or scrolling through random playlists—and then BAM, it hits ya.
First off, let’s get into “Her Memory (Jack Daniels And Me).” Man, this track is a gut-punch in all the right ways. The lyrics are raw and honest, like someone sitting across from you at a bar, spilling their heart out over a whiskey glass. You can almost smell the smoke and hear the clink of ice cubes as Marriott sings about love lost and drowning sorrows with ol’ Jack. It’s not flashy or overproduced—it doesn’t need to be. That simplicity sticks with you. Like, I remember humming this tune while driving late at night, windows down, feeling like the road was made just for me and my thoughts.
Then there’s “Missouri Moon.” This one feels softer, dreamier, like staring up at the sky on a warm summer evening. There’s something nostalgic about it, like remembering a place you haven’t been to in years but still holds a piece of your heart. The melody kind of floats around you, and Marriott’s voice has this gravelly warmth that makes you feel like he gets it—he knows what it’s like to miss home, even if “home” is more of a feeling than an actual spot on a map. Honestly, every time this song comes on, I find myself zoning out, thinking about random stuff like childhood summers or dumb arguments I had with friends years ago. Weird how music does that, huh?
What’s wild is how both these tracks manage to feel timeless despite being nearly 40 years old. They don’t scream “'80s country!” with big hair and neon lights; instead, they’re stripped-down and real. Kinda makes you wonder why more artists don’t take this approach nowadays. Maybe because it’s harder to fake authenticity? Who knows.
Anyway, wrapping this up—I gotta say, listening to this album felt like finding an old photograph tucked inside a book you haven’t opened in ages. It’s faded and maybe a little worn, but it tells a story that pulls you in anyway. And hey, isn’t that what good music’s supposed to do? Funny thing though… after spinning this record, I suddenly got a craving for barbecue and moonshine. Coincidence? Probably not.
