In His Own Voice

For a man as shamelessly flashy as he'd been all his life, Porter Wagoner maintained his hard country edge right up until his death this week at 80. That edge was forged in his native West Plains, Mo., and its hallmark was a distinctly Hank Williams-influenced honky-tonk sound. But his flash was pure Grand Ole Opry rhinestone.

Wagoner may be most famous today for launching the career of Dolly Parton in 1967, but by then he'd already been an Opry member with his own syndicated television show for a decade. And he'd already written or recorded a string of hits—including "Trademark," "Company's Comin'" and "Satisfied Mind"—long enough to ensure his induction into country music's hall of fame. But with Parton by his side, Wagoner's career was propelled to a higher level. The duo would enjoy a seven-year string of chart-topping singles, starting with 1968's "The Last Thing on My Mind." Still, when Wagoner and Parton parted ways, she would go on to become the bigger star—and he was widely perceived as having attempted to hold her back. (He sued her in 1979 for breach of contract, but the two settled out of court.) Parton couldn't have taken it too badly: she wrote "I Will Always Love You" for him.

With the exception of a few cameos (including a role in the 1982 Clint Eastwood movie "Honkytonk Man"), Wagoner receded from the limelight in the 1980s. He returned this year for one last victory lap: on the eve of his 50th anniversary as an Opry member, Wagoner released the Marty Stewart-produced "Wagonmaster," a surprisingly strong return to his classic country roots. Unlike the Nudie suits he sported onstage, there was nothing too fancy about his final record, highlights of which included the foot-stomping fiddle tune "Eleven Cent Cotton" and a haunting Johnny Cash original, "Committed to Parkview," about the mental hospital both men were uncomfortably familiar with (Wagoner for exhaustion, Cash for pills).

Like Cash before him, Wagoner lived long enough to enjoy a late-in-life reappraisal that introduced him to a generation of new fans; earlier this year he opened for the White Stripes at Madison Square Garden. And yet it still feels as if he left too soon. Looking back at his startling legacy, it almost seems as if the Thin Man from White Plains, Mo., lived his life with one foot firmly planted in country's honky-tonk past even as the other simultaneously stepped (hell, strutted) a pace or two ahead of his time.

NEWSWEEK's Brian Braiker spoke at length with Porter Wagoner—visibly frail due to the stomach aneurysm that nearly killed him last year—in his Grand Ole Opry dressing room in May, just hours before he celebrated his 50th anniversary there. Excerpts:

You had an aneurysm last year. It's somewhat amazing that you're here not only to celebrate your 50th but with a new album to boot.
God really blessed me and looked out for me and wanted me to get this album under my belt.