Fine at 50: The Outlaws
By Joe Vincenza
November 4, 2025 at 12:30 PM CST
In 1975, the music scene in the U.S. was incredibly diverse. Thanks in no small part to the fact that FM radio had yet to become monetized into blandness, you could hear a really wide variety of influences. There was AOR, Album Oriented Rock, which would play the “deep cuts” from LPs — that is, the good songs that weren’t hits on commercial radio. There was progressive rock, playing bands like Yes and King Crimson; there were still stations that played jazz, soul, and Motown, classical, singer/songwriters, and it was all out there. And disco hadn’t arrived, so life was good.
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Also big in the 70s on the FM band was what I lovingly refer to as “Yee-Haw Rock," or Southern rock, as the commoners would call it. While I always had an appreciation for what many would call “real country," — Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, and such — I learned quickly that I had a deep and powerful loathing of commercial country. I’m talking Oakridge Boys, Charlie Pride, Alabama, and all the others who croaked out songs about pickup trucks, hound dogs, grandpop’s farm, and lost love with strings and steel guitars at the ready. Bleeeck. Southern rock though… I was in deep, and I had the cowboy hat and vest to prove it.
In 1975, it was a yee-haw music buffet. Marshall Tucker, Lynrd Skynrd, The Allman Brothers, Molly Hatchet, and on and on. But of them all, the one record I have come back to over the years is the debut release from The Outlaws. After a number of band members came and went early on, Tampa’s “Guitar Army,” as they were known, came into personnel and musical focus in 1973, hitting the road and impressing people across the country. When it came time to record their 1975 debut, they had more than enough talent at the ready. With multiple songwriters and lead singers in the group, they were able to pick and perform songs that were a cohesive presentation, without being repetitive and formulaic. This wasn’t — isn’t — just another Southern rock record. With three and four-part harmonies, varying picking styles, and the desire to have their first record be an ear catcher, it had all the pieces needed to gain attention, which it did, peaking at No. 13 on the Billboard top 200 album chart. Not too shabby for a first outing from a bunch of good ol’ boys.
RELATED: Read more "Fine at 50" album reviews
Besides the tight playing, harmonies, and very clean production of this record, there are a couple of intangibles that still shine through a half-century later. These songs, for the most part, are optimistic, joyful, and just plain fun. This is a FUN record to listen to. They’re not flirtin’ with disaster, riding a southbound train till it runs out of track, or being tied to any whipping posts (you get mega bonus points if you know the songs and artists I’m quoting here). While not fluffy, the music has an open feeling that other southern rock never was able to quite pull off. Much like The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac, The Outlaws had multiple lead vocalists and songwriters, helping to keep things fresh and diverse.
https://youtu.be/VdCgIfXqVvE?si=2ucGCcDjwDqqA0MA
Beginning with the opening “There Goes Another Love Song," which made it to No. 34 on the Billboard Top 40, this set of 10 tunes offers up a nice range of mostly straight-ahead songs with a pleasant twang. Henry Pauls’ “Song in the Breeze," “Stay with Me,” and “Knoxville Girl,” being the most country-sounding, with Hughie Thomasson penning the compositions that lend themselves to being more guitar showcases, including, of course, their signature tune “Green Grass & High Tides."
This song, closing the set at just about 10 minutes long, is about the singer’s favorite musicians coming to him as ghosts and playing a concert just for him. It’s an all-out top-shelf example of yee-haw rock turned up to 10, and 50 years on, it sounds just as energetic and frenzied as it did the first time I heard it. Back in 1975, you could still find radio stations that would play a 10-minute song; good luck with that now. (Plus, as a DJ at my college station, I always appreciated the long jams for trips to the little DJ’s room and other “activities” college students have been known to be involved with).
Cowboy Joe V. circa 1981 (2000x1666, AR: 1.2004801920768307)
The Outlaws put out three records with this lineup, and they are considered to be the best records of their long career. How long you ask ?Well even though many of the original members of the group have passed, Henry Paul rejoined in 2008, brought in some new players, and the band is STILL touring. I had the good fortune to see them a couple of times in the late 70s, an experience you can recreate for yourself via any of their numerous live recordings. I recommend the 1989 double disc “Bring It Back Alive."
In 50 years, my personal musical tastes have changed, evolved, and grown, and these days it’s kind of rare for me to indulge in the guilty pleasure of Yee-Haw Rock. But when I do, there really isn’t anything better than The Outlaws. To quote someone, “it’s mighty fine”. When it was time to leave my beloved student radio station, WIDR FM at Western Michigan University, my cohorts decided to give me the studio copy of the record. Maybe because they were sick of hearing it (I played it, perhaps too much) or maybe because they knew how much it meant to me. For whatever reason, I was grateful, and I still have that beat-up 50-year-old album. I will keep it for all the rest of my days.
Support Local Stories. Support Public Media.
Also big in the 70s on the FM band was what I lovingly refer to as “Yee-Haw Rock," or Southern rock, as the commoners would call it. While I always had an appreciation for what many would call “real country," — Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, and such — I learned quickly that I had a deep and powerful loathing of commercial country. I’m talking Oakridge Boys, Charlie Pride, Alabama, and all the others who croaked out songs about pickup trucks, hound dogs, grandpop’s farm, and lost love with strings and steel guitars at the ready. Bleeeck. Southern rock though… I was in deep, and I had the cowboy hat and vest to prove it.
In 1975, it was a yee-haw music buffet. Marshall Tucker, Lynrd Skynrd, The Allman Brothers, Molly Hatchet, and on and on. But of them all, the one record I have come back to over the years is the debut release from The Outlaws. After a number of band members came and went early on, Tampa’s “Guitar Army,” as they were known, came into personnel and musical focus in 1973, hitting the road and impressing people across the country. When it came time to record their 1975 debut, they had more than enough talent at the ready. With multiple songwriters and lead singers in the group, they were able to pick and perform songs that were a cohesive presentation, without being repetitive and formulaic. This wasn’t — isn’t — just another Southern rock record. With three and four-part harmonies, varying picking styles, and the desire to have their first record be an ear catcher, it had all the pieces needed to gain attention, which it did, peaking at No. 13 on the Billboard top 200 album chart. Not too shabby for a first outing from a bunch of good ol’ boys.
RELATED: Read more "Fine at 50" album reviews
Besides the tight playing, harmonies, and very clean production of this record, there are a couple of intangibles that still shine through a half-century later. These songs, for the most part, are optimistic, joyful, and just plain fun. This is a FUN record to listen to. They’re not flirtin’ with disaster, riding a southbound train till it runs out of track, or being tied to any whipping posts (you get mega bonus points if you know the songs and artists I’m quoting here). While not fluffy, the music has an open feeling that other southern rock never was able to quite pull off. Much like The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac, The Outlaws had multiple lead vocalists and songwriters, helping to keep things fresh and diverse.
https://youtu.be/VdCgIfXqVvE?si=2ucGCcDjwDqqA0MA
Beginning with the opening “There Goes Another Love Song," which made it to No. 34 on the Billboard Top 40, this set of 10 tunes offers up a nice range of mostly straight-ahead songs with a pleasant twang. Henry Pauls’ “Song in the Breeze," “Stay with Me,” and “Knoxville Girl,” being the most country-sounding, with Hughie Thomasson penning the compositions that lend themselves to being more guitar showcases, including, of course, their signature tune “Green Grass & High Tides."
This song, closing the set at just about 10 minutes long, is about the singer’s favorite musicians coming to him as ghosts and playing a concert just for him. It’s an all-out top-shelf example of yee-haw rock turned up to 10, and 50 years on, it sounds just as energetic and frenzied as it did the first time I heard it. Back in 1975, you could still find radio stations that would play a 10-minute song; good luck with that now. (Plus, as a DJ at my college station, I always appreciated the long jams for trips to the little DJ’s room and other “activities” college students have been known to be involved with).
Cowboy Joe V. circa 1981 (2000x1666, AR: 1.2004801920768307)
The Outlaws put out three records with this lineup, and they are considered to be the best records of their long career. How long you ask ?Well even though many of the original members of the group have passed, Henry Paul rejoined in 2008, brought in some new players, and the band is STILL touring. I had the good fortune to see them a couple of times in the late 70s, an experience you can recreate for yourself via any of their numerous live recordings. I recommend the 1989 double disc “Bring It Back Alive."
In 50 years, my personal musical tastes have changed, evolved, and grown, and these days it’s kind of rare for me to indulge in the guilty pleasure of Yee-Haw Rock. But when I do, there really isn’t anything better than The Outlaws. To quote someone, “it’s mighty fine”. When it was time to leave my beloved student radio station, WIDR FM at Western Michigan University, my cohorts decided to give me the studio copy of the record. Maybe because they were sick of hearing it (I played it, perhaps too much) or maybe because they knew how much it meant to me. For whatever reason, I was grateful, and I still have that beat-up 50-year-old album. I will keep it for all the rest of my days.