OldiesButGoodies

Country

George Jones – The Race Is On

The Current | The Race is On - George Jones

ntroduction:

George Jones‘ “The Race Is On” is a timeless country classic that captures the essence of heartbreak and longing. Released in 1964 as part of the album “I Get Lonely in a Hurry,” the song quickly resonated with audiences and cemented Jones’ status as a master storyteller in country music.

Penned by Don Rollins, the song’s lyrics paint a vivid picture of a love gone sour, using the metaphor of a horse race to convey the intensity of the emotional turmoil. Jones’ soulful vocals, often referred to as “honky-tonk heartbreak,” deliver the lyrics with raw authenticity, making listeners feel the depth of the character’s pain.

Produced by Pappy Daily, a renowned figure in the country music industry, the track showcases a stripped-down production that allows Jones’ voice to take center stage. While not explicitly credited with any specific awards or certifications, “The Race Is On” undoubtedly contributed to Jones’ overall success and solidified his reputation as one of country music’s greatest vocalists. The song remains a staple in the country music canon and continues to be appreciated by both longtime fans and new generations of listeners.

Video:

https://youtu.be/dj7ahuCHGbM?si=MvnuD_hW830yPEbS

Related Post

In the mid-1970s, when Merle Haggard stood at the pinnacle of country music stardom, the applause often faded into something far more private. Behind the sold-out shows and bright stage lights, he carried a quiet burden — the accumulated weight of broken relationships, endless highways, and the solitude that success can’t erase. One evening, after stepping offstage, he returned to a modest motel room and turned on the television. An old black-and-white film flickered across the screen, filled with sweeping romances and neatly tied happy endings. As he watched the characters find effortless love and redemption, the contrast felt almost piercing. His own life had been far less cinematic — marked by failed marriages, restless touring, and the emotional distance that comes with living out of a suitcase. In that stillness, he began to reflect on how easily people measure their lives against fictional standards. Movies promise that love conquers all and that every heartbreak resolves before the final scene fades. Real life, however, offers no such guarantees. Expectations shaped by the silver screen often dissolve into disappointment when reality proves more complicated. From that quiet realization emerged “It’s All In The Movies.” The song became a tender acknowledgment that the flawless endings we admire are crafted illusions. Yet rather than sounding cynical, it carried empathy. For Haggard, it was both an admission of vulnerability and a gesture of reassurance — a reminder that imperfection does not diminish meaning. Through the melody, he seemed to tell listeners that while life may never follow a script, the emotions we feel are just as powerful as any scene in film. The movies may sell dreams, but the truth — messy, unfinished, and deeply human — is what truly endures.

Merle Haggard built a career on telling hard truths—about heartache, prison walls, regret, and the long road of a man forever outrunning his own ghosts. He was country music’s lone drifter: unpolished, rebellious, and fearless when it came to exposing the wounds he carried. Theresa Haggard was never meant to stand beside him as a headline name, yet on one unforgettable night, she became the quiet force holding him upright. At what many now regard as his last live appearance, his body was visibly failing him. Midway through “Today I Started Loving You Again,” he surprised everyone. He signaled to the band to lower the volume. He didn’t meet the crowd’s gaze. Instead, he turned toward the shadowed edge of the stage and gently raised his hand, beckoning Theresa. She didn’t step forward to harmonize. She came to steady him. The auditorium fell into a reverent hush. There was no dramatic duet, no soaring finale—just the stark image of a once-restless outlaw resting his head against his young wife’s shoulder, drawing from her the strength he no longer had on his own. Supported by her quiet presence, he gathered himself and delivered the song’s final lines with trembling resolve. Many believe the greatest gift Merle left Theresa was not cataloged in gold records or chart history. He passed away on his birthday, and later, tucked inside the pocket of his jacket, a small cassette tape was discovered. It did not contain music. Instead, it held something far more intimate—a fragile confession, a deeply personal reckoning with chapters of his past he had never entrusted to journalists or public memory.

Last night, Indiana Feek stepped into the spotlight and performed Waltz of the Angels — the song her mother, Joey Feek, cherished above all others. Her voice was soft and pure, carrying such quiet grace that it seemed as though Joey’s spirit lingered within every single note.

You Missed

Country

In the mid-1970s, when Merle Haggard stood at the pinnacle of country music stardom, the applause often faded into something far more private. Behind the sold-out shows and bright stage lights, he carried a quiet burden — the accumulated weight of broken relationships, endless highways, and the solitude that success can’t erase. One evening, after stepping offstage, he returned to a modest motel room and turned on the television. An old black-and-white film flickered across the screen, filled with sweeping romances and neatly tied happy endings. As he watched the characters find effortless love and redemption, the contrast felt almost piercing. His own life had been far less cinematic — marked by failed marriages, restless touring, and the emotional distance that comes with living out of a suitcase. In that stillness, he began to reflect on how easily people measure their lives against fictional standards. Movies promise that love conquers all and that every heartbreak resolves before the final scene fades. Real life, however, offers no such guarantees. Expectations shaped by the silver screen often dissolve into disappointment when reality proves more complicated. From that quiet realization emerged “It’s All In The Movies.” The song became a tender acknowledgment that the flawless endings we admire are crafted illusions. Yet rather than sounding cynical, it carried empathy. For Haggard, it was both an admission of vulnerability and a gesture of reassurance — a reminder that imperfection does not diminish meaning. Through the melody, he seemed to tell listeners that while life may never follow a script, the emotions we feel are just as powerful as any scene in film. The movies may sell dreams, but the truth — messy, unfinished, and deeply human — is what truly endures.

Oldies Music

SAD NEWS: Hank Marvin and his wife Carole Naylor are going through an incredibly difficult time as heartbreaking news emerges — and Hank’s emotional response has left fans stunned and deeply moved…

Oldies Music

FOR EVERYONE WHO HOLDS INDY IN THEIR HEART — YOUR LOVE IS SEEN AND FELT. Thank you for embracing this precious soul, for recognizing the kindness and radiance she carries within her. Your unwavering support has meant more to us than we can ever fully express. I love her beyond measure — far deeper than words could ever capture. Every laugh she shares, every small victory she achieves, every melody she softly sings reflects a spirit filled with grace, warmth, and a hope that continues to shine brighter each day.

Oldies Music

Stephen Gibb brought the entire room to tears as he stepped onto the stage to accept the GRAMMY Gold Award for “Best Vocal Performance” on behalf of his legendary father, Barry Gibb.