From Spencer’s FOT Gazette - August 2007
The Newsletter for Friends of the Tavern
Spencer’s Stadium Tavern in Indianapolis, Indiana
If you didn’t see Tommy Womack’s show last week, you missed a great show. He’s a great show with an incredible ability to rant about the human experience and make Cheap Trick’s Surrender sound wistful and remind us of why Gene Simmons went from star to a joke to just plain sad.
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still crazy after all these years
an interview with Tommy Womack
by christina wagner
Tommy Womack is a very interesting guy. Born in Sturgis, Kentucky on November 20, 1962, Womack has been able to pop out 13 albums in his 22-year career, write an autobiography and a novel, produce a life and still have time to search for the “Historical Jesus.” You know, the “real guy”. His recent work seem to reflect him better than any one project, almost as if each band served as a stepping stone to finding exactly where he needs to be. His most recent album, There I Said It, screams just that. His frank and almost abrasive lyricism screams out anthems of questions and answers every honest musician finds them asking themselves at one point or another. I get it. And I like it.
Read the entire interview here or by clicking on the linked photo above to go directly to the EU Jacksonville website.
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TOMMY WOMACK: What He Said
The name Tommy might not be the first you think of when you hear the name “Womack,” but all of that is subject to change. After weathering a nervous breakdown, a number of dead-end day jobs and the realization that being a rock star is a young man’s dream, Nashville songwriter Tommy Womack is determined to make himself a star through sheer optimism. On his witty, poignant new album, There, I Said It!, Womack explores the fate of a songwriter struggling to keep his head above the daily grind. “I’m blown away by these new songs,” friend and collaborator Will Kimbrough told the Nashville Scene, “but I always expect Tommy’s songs to be brilliant. He’s like a hillbilly Woody Allen, and this album is a rock and roll equivalent of the film Little Miss Sunshine. It says, ‘This is a world of shit, but it’s all we’ve got.’”
By Evan Schlansky
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Puremusic Interview with Tommy Womack
By Frank Goodman
The Lord works in mysterious ways, they say. Certainly seems to be so in the life of this preacher’s son…
Read the interview here or by clicking on the linked photo above to go directly to the puremusic.com website.
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There, I Said It!
Tommy Womack
Rating: 4 Stars
Review
by Hal Horowitz
It’s convenient, but only somewhat accurate, to compare Tommy Womack to his friends and slightly better-known musical cohorts Todd Snider and Will Kimbrough. The singer/songwriter’s fifth solo release comes four years and a nervous breakdown after his last disc, and that sobering experience, along with joining the eight-to-five rat race to make ends meet after assuming his music career was finished, informs the tone and especially the lyrics on this comeback. “I’m 43 now, my hair is going, I’ve got a shaky sense of self esteem,” laments Womack on the folk ballad “Nice Day,” and that pretty much sums up this renewed chapter in his career. Thankfully, Womack is too smart, self-deprecating, and witty to wallow in self-pity. His words define and refine a dry humor that balances depression, sometimes literally as in “Too Much Month at the End of the Xanex,” and a somewhat shaky belief that life will work out all right. It’s a tricky tightrope act, but Womack pulls it off through good to excellent country-folk-rockers and an everyman voice that hits the right emotional notes. Few singer/songwriters could pull off a stream-of-consciousness-styled life story such as “Alpha Male & the Canine Mystery Blood” — which mixes a post-9/11 world-view, a discussion of weird band names, religion, and his life — with such casual honesty and unpretentious irony. Credit some of this album’s success to producer John Deaderick, who frames these songs with the perfect mixture of bluesy, shambling folk, rock, and country. He keeps the focus on Womack’s lyrics while surrounding him with a rootsy Americana that seems effortless. These tunes shimmer with songwriting so sharp, lyrically full, and intelligent that the logical response is to play the album over again to catch what you might have missed before. And each time you learn a little more about Womack as a human being and an artist, to the point that you seem to have read his diary. There aren’t many performers who can write music with that kind of integrity while keeping the listener involved — and even riveted — in someone else’s experiences. Maybe it’s because listeners see a bit of themselves in Tommy Womack’s reflection.
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Published Thursday | April 26, 2007
Singer-songwriter plays emotional tunes
BY NIZ PROSKOCIL
WORLD-HERALD STAFF WRITER
A nervous breakdown isn’t necessarily a bad thing. For musician Tommy Womack, it helped rejuvenate his career.
The Nashville-based singer-songwriter had an emotional meltdown four years ago. He missed shows, including one in Omaha, got dropped by his manager and lost his booking agent.
“I just lost my mind. I started having panic attacks and crying fits all the time,” Womack said by cell phone while driving to Kentucky. “Everything was over. I was toast. At the age of 40, I was done.
“I never expected to make another record again.”
But with the help of family and friends, Womack pulled himself out of his funk and returned to songwriting.
This time, though, it was an emotional outlet. For the first time in his two-decade music career, Womack found himself writing intensely personal, confessional songs. In February, he released the 13-song collection, titled, “There, I Said It.”
The album, his fifth solo release, features sardonic, sad and witty songs like “I’m Never Gonna Be a Rock Star” and the seven-minute rumination, “Alpha Male & the Canine Mystery Blood.” He recounts his panic attacks in “Too Much Month at the End of the Xanax.”
Accompanied by his bass player and drummer, Womack will play those songs and more at his concert Sunday at the Waiting Room Lounge as part of the Sunday Roadhouse Americana Music Series.
In addition to music, his show includes a reading from his autobiographical book, “Cheese Chronicles: The True Story of a Rock ‘n’ Roll Band You’ve Never Heard Of.” Womack was a member of post-punk band Government Cheese from 1985 to 1992.
Fans at Sunday’s concert will get to hear the bulk of Womack’s new album. The response to “There, I Said It,” he said, has been the best of his career.
The Tennessean called it “a searing, hilarious, sad and brilliant album.”
More important, the music has resonated with fans. Several people have come up to him at concerts to tell him how his songs have helped them deal with their own problems.
“The lyrics are touching people in a way I’ve never experienced,” he said. “I’m not just entertaining people. I’m giving aid and comfort to people who feel the way I do.”
But his shows aren’t one big sob session.
“It’s not all a bummer and depressing. It’s not going to be Morrissey. It’s much funnier than that. It’s a darn good rock ‘n’ roll show with some funny stories and some lyrics that will make you cry and make you laugh. It’s going to be fun. That’s my main aim.”
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March 26th, 2007 @ Bongo Java, Upstairs—Tommy Womack
Womack Proves that God Exists
Several months ago, my wife and I finished a nice dinner at The Family Wash, and we considered staying to catch this guy named Tommy Womack who was scheduled to perform around 9pm. But Tommy and the guys were running late, my wife and I were getting sleepy, so we bailed. As we exited the Wash, I noticed Womack across the parking lot walking briskly toward the door. Womack called out: “Don’t leave now, we’re gettin’ ready to put on a rock ‘n’ roll show.” (My readers should know that I am a complete stranger to Womack.) I thought, “That’s just what I need right now—another rock ‘n’ roll show. No thanks.” Thankfully, Womack became distracted by the sight of someone he knew and I did not have to reject his offer.
Little did I know that Womack’s new CD was an autobiographical account of the psychological effects of 20 years of trying to convince others that they should listen. Regardless of my indifference toward Womack that night, his unexpected (friendly) sales pitch planted a seed. I admire tenacity. I knew, as I pondered Womack’s plea, that I’d catch his rock ‘n’ roll show soon enough. Perhaps it was God whispering to me that I should give Womack a listen. Indeed, I’ve since learned that a few years ago Womack suffered a series of paralyzing panic attacks and, facing an existential and financial crisis, humbly asked God to help him write good songs (i.e., achieve his dreams even at 44, while facing the abyss). Against all odds, Womack is currently experiencing a career surge that, well let’s face it, proves the existence of God.
To be sure, Anselm’s ontological argument can’t touch actually experiencing a gift from God that comes out of nowhere. And Womack’s well-traveled soul recognizes his recent success as a divine gift, and although one is not obligated to return anything to God in these circumstances, one is impelled toward an appreciative humility. Womack has endured the suffering, and found peace with God.
There I Said It! is an exploration into the mind of an aging rock ‘n’ roller who has come to believe that he has achieved nothing—that he is, therefore, nothing. Womack’s confessional style is part John Prine and part Todd Snider. As with Prine and Snider, Womack is at his best when the lyrics come across as genuine. Womack achieves this on every track, and the record is destined to become a classic.
Womack’s acoustic performance at Bongo Java was nothing short of brilliant. Appearing slightly unkempt with an overgrown beard and longish thinning hair, Womack wears the scars of his battles with depression on his sleeve. His short set was flawless. While projecting the image of a world-worn weary homeless man, Womack effortlessly delivered verse after verse of rhyming tragi-comic reflections reminiscent of Dylan’s early years. Womack is currently in high demand here in Nashville, and although his eyes have gazed upon the mountaintop in previous attempts, this time it will be as if he is seeing it for the first time.
Go and see Tommy Womack—don’t miss him. You’ll not only catch a great rock ‘n’ roll show, you might just be persuaded that God exists.
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3-22 by Michael Lipton
Tommy Womack There, I Said It! (Cedar Creek).
Tommy Womack’s version of the events that led up to his latest release - a disturbing realization of age, mortality and no regular income; the responsibility of a child, the resulting nervous breakdown and the eventual 9-5 job - make for a compelling set-up to the opener “A Songwriter’s Prayer.” The minor-keyed Ray Davies meets Johnny Dowd soundscape is as eerie as it is beautifully written - and you don’t have to be a songwriter to appreciate the sentiment. The production (and much of the playing) was handled by Charleston’s very own John Deaderick who, with spooky keyboards and weeping pedal steel, expertly exorcizes Womack’s demons.
Far from the first person to be confronted with those realities, in the best singer/songwriter tradition, Womack (who should be familiar to Charlestonians as the mainman for once-frequent visitors Government Cheese) has taken those experiences and come up with perhaps his finest record.
Elsewhere, the fare ranges from the Americana rock of the vignette-laden “That’s All There is to See”; the reflective “Nice Day”; the bluesy, Jon Spencer-sounding “Too Much Month at the End of the Xanax”; and the clever (and revealing) “I’m Never Gonna Be a Rock Star.” The filtering - or purging - his experiences continues on “I Want a Cigarette,” a simple folk gem that finds Womack employing the irony of Todd Snider (a longtime Womack fan), “I Couldn’t Care Less,” “Flourescent Light Blues” and the hilarious “Cockroach After the Bomb” (”I’m like a cockroach after the bomb carryin’ on”).
Highly recommended.
(www.cedarcreekmusic.com )
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Revenge of the Day-Job-Havin’ Lifers
by Rob Trucks
March 13th, 2007 12:47 PM
Tonight’s contestants still believe that rock ‘n’ roll lives forever, but it might not always pay its own way. (Friggin’ freeloader.) Whether for amusement or pocket change, avocation or insurance, more than 20 years apiece into their respective music careers, Rickie Lee Jones now owns a horse farm, Silos frontman Walter Salas-Humara paints pictures of dogs (waltersdogs.com), and Tommy Womack wrangles the animals of academia as a temp in Vanderbilt University’s poli-sci department. And that’s about all they have in common.
Rickie Lee Jones
“Falling Up”
From The Sermon on Exhibition Boulevard (New West)
RLJ’s latest long player comes billed as “Velvet Underground–inspired music with lyrics that are inspired by the real words and ideas of Jesus Christ.” (Forget the repetitive inspiration for a minute and realize that this is not the first time VU and JC have met in a sentence, however poorly written.) And though the music is, in fact, direly droning, discordant, and filled with so much plodding Mo Tucker percussion that Rickie oughta name her band the Floor Tom Tom Club (or record her own Richard Buckner album), Jones’s sultry surrender has no shot at the cool coldness of Nico, let alone that of Lou Reed. So what’s so compelling it doesn’t belong here? “Falling Up,” a kind of Flying Cowboys–era jazz tangle of rangy vocal rounds dilatorily delivered, building beauty through tension, the apparent aim of this curiously ambitious experiment finally realized.
The Silos
“Tell Me You Love Me”
From Come on Like the Fast Lane (Bloodshot)
Since his Silos copped Rolling Stone’s Best New Band designation for a little gem called Cuba a mere two decades ago, Salas-Humara, despite near-lifelong toeholds in New York and Miami, has provided more windows-down highway harmonies for the heartland than anyone. But his pithy, ready-for-repeat platitudes aren’t always found in the chorus. “Tell Me You Love Me,” for example, offers “Love is nothing to save” and follows immediately with “You never know,” another instance of calloused veteran wisdom that sounds damn near optimistic in fifth gear while straddling the yellow line.
Tommy Womack
“I’m Never Gonna Be a Rock Star/ I Want a Cigarette”
From There, I Said It! (Cripple Creek)
The voice of William Faulkner’s ghost bellows, “Write what you know.” And Womack, author of the woefully neglected memoir Cheese Chronicles: The True Story of a Rock ‘n’ Roll Band You’ve Never Heard Of, complies with the most self-conscious, self-deprecating, spent-too-much-time-in-Nashville disc of self-revelation you’ll ever hear. Fittingly, “I’m Never Gonna Be A Rock Star” segues to a therapist’s office smoke break with a cry of “Where’s my catharsis?” Think Spalding Gray if he’d grown up in Kentucky with a guitar and a vinyl copy of Black and Blue.
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Cover Story
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February 22, 2007
Never Gonna Be a Rock Star
Read the interview here or by clicking on the linked photo above to go directly to the Nashville Scene website.
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Tommy Womack
“There I Said It!”
by Jay Johnson
Over the years Tommy Womack developed self-doubt, self-delusion and fear of failure and insignificance into an art form. It was his own personal art form that existed within the walls of his primary artistry, music. Beginning with his days in Government Cheese, and perhaps before, he dealt with his human frailties and demons with an irreverent sense of humor, alcohol and an array of drugs of both the prescription and non-prescription variety. Now, in his mid-forties, several years after what he thought might have been his last record, and with a nervous breakdown in his rearview mirror, Tommy Womack has released “There I Said It!” which is one of the most inspired and courageous albums I’ve ever heard! Yeah, I’m talking about Tommy Womack. The skinny guy from Kentucky has stripped away all pretensions and laid bare emotions and thoughts that even the bravest among us don’t like thinking about or admitting to let alone singing about. The wry sense of humor remains intact, but much of the coyness is gone having been replaced by unvarnished honesty.
The album opens with a folky, almost haunting plea to God to “whisper the songs upon me” and “show me how to feel” in “A Songwriter’s Prayer.” Tommy is accompanied by a talented group of musicians and vocalists throughout, notably his “Daddy” co-conspirator and guitar genius Will Kimbrough. The song “Nice Day” is a perfect blend of angst, humor and melody enveloping the yearning that we all have to somehow be good at what’s really important to us, and maybe hear our kids say “I love you.” “25 Years Ago” tells the age-old story of wide-eyed dreamers that arrived in Nashville years ago full of energy, spunk and gumption and are laboring for a living a quarter of a century later. The song features some great pedal steel and dobro work by Smith Curry and segues nicely into the scintillating guitar work by the aforementioned Mr. Kimbrough and Tommy’s son, Nathan, on the next song, a bluesy number called “Too Much Month At The End Of The Xanax.” “I’m Never Gonna’ Be A Rock Star” is an insightful, telling admission by Tommy, but it’s not really about being a rock star. It’s about the twists and turns that all of our lives take and how it’s not those twists and turns, but how we react to them, that largely determines our level of happiness with life. I don’t know anyone my age that is what they dreamed of being back when they were attaching baseball cards to their bicycle spokes with clothes pins, but Tommy tells us that maybe that’s okay. At least that’s what it’s about to me…
Overall, the theme to “There I Said It!” is one of various forms of acceptance. Accepting the sublime, the ridiculous, appreciating what is and not worrying about what ain’t. Go out and buy a copy of “There I Said It!” and listen to it one time. I guarantee you’ll be impressed by the songwriting and musicianship and, as an added bonus, you’ll laugh and think, probably at the same time.
Visit Tommy Womack’s website at www.tommywomack.com where you can purchase the CD and find out more about this artist.
Jay Johnson, March 2007
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Review By Brian Baker
Tommy Womack — There, I Said It!
Middle-life crises don’t come any bigger than Tommy Womack’s back in 2003. The former Bis-Quits/Government Cheese guitarist enjoyed a middling Americana solo career (great albums, little acclaim) when he mistook his dwindling opportunities for the end of his gig. To compound matters, Womack’s wife lost her job which necessitated his return to the full-time workforce, which he coped with by “eating Xanax like Skittles,” and praying to God for the songs to come. In that context, There, I Said It!, Womack’s first new album in five years, is an answer to two prayers — the one from Womack and the one from his fans. There, I Said It! is Womack’s most personal album to date, overflowing with his close-to-the-bone observations about the responsibilities of life and family and the futility of a music career on the fringe. “A Songwriter’s Prayer” documents Womack’s plea for inspiration, while the loping, edgy Blues grind of “Too Much Month at the End of the Xanax” and the Country/Folk strum of “I’m Never Gonna Be a Rock Star” fairly speak for themselves. Meanwhile, John Prine and Arlo Guthrie are arm wrestling for the right to claim inspiration for “I Want a Cigarette” as Womack peels off some chicken wire roadhouse riffs and vents his workaday spleen on “Fluorescent Light Blues” and “A Cockroach After the Bomb” and does some strolling, talking-Folk magic on “Alpha Male and the Mystery Blood.” The past couple of years have been kinder to Womack; he’s played hired gun guitar for Todd Snider, started a band called Daddy with old friend/collaborator Will Kimbrough and toured England where he found a rich vein of unexpected adoration. For all of his terrific solo albums, his fantastic book about life in a band, and his beautiful loser outlook, he ought to be getting that love at home. No, he’s never gonna be a Rock star … guess he’ll have to settle for being brilliant and loved by a rabid and really intelligent few. (Brian Baker) Grade: A
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Country/Roots
Tommy Womack
There, I Said It!
(Cedar Creek/Thirty Tigers ****)
It could have been a mopey mess. Tommy Womack’s first album in four years deals with his nervous breakdown, his return to the daily work grind with the realization he will never be a rock star, and the responsibilities of being a husband and father.
Yet, while exploring those themes, the 44-year-old singer and songwriter has come up with the best work of his career. Like his pal and fellow Nashvillian Todd Snider, Womack leavens searing emotional honesty with observational wit and wry wise-guy charm as he moves among rock, country and blues. The result, for the former leader of the groups Government Cheese and the Bis-quits, is a bittersweet, often hilarious portrait of a struggle for survival that skirts self-pity and is warts-and-all real. It also has a happy ending - for now - that feels earned. Or, as Womack puts it jauntily just before the un-ironic finale of “Everything’s Coming Up Roses Again” - “I’m a cockroach after the bomb, carrying on.”
- Nick Cristiano
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Saturday, 02/17/07
Nashville rocker Womack got a good case of the blues
Let’s posit that, say, something like Britney Spears’ debut captures perfectly the naive frivolity of musical youth. And Glossary’s rough-hewn For What I Don’t Become captures that thin, precarious line between youth and adulthood, when the harshness of adult responsibility is squeezing the life out of your youthful idealism.
Your next step is Nashville guy Tommy Womack’s There I Said It!, a disc born when youthful idealism and a few decades of idealism-squashing got their final grudge match on.
“I was toast at forty and destined to die poor,” Womack writes in the album’s liner notes. “Thwack! 20 years of rock and roll, rough draft, beer lunches, brain-hammer, Waffle House, and wham! You had yer shot, thanks a lot.”
The singer-songwriter and guitarist’s resume lists off rock ‘n’ roll years with Government Cheese and the bis-quits, authoring an emotionally affecting tome about independent rock life called Cheese Chronicles: The True Story of a Rock and Roll Band You’ve Never Heard Of, and more recent work as a sideman for the likes of Todd Snider.
But maybe Womack isn’t the big-time rock guy the 17-year-old version of him expected, and the realization that that might never happen — an experience plenty of Nashvillians can relate to — led to the breakdown he chronicles in those liner notes, and the accompanying Americana-, rock- and blues-born songs.
Those songs are tense and precise, blunt and smart, and far more gut-wrenchingly honest than the candy-coated stuff that generally does launch those big-time folks.
If there’s ever been a song that really captures cubicle-farmer wanderlust, it’s Womack’s “Fluorescent Light Blues,” a blues-rock stomp in which his voice howls and cracks, “I wanna work somewhere without fluorescent lights, it makes my eyeballs quiver, and that noise ain’t right,” and “I’m an out of work rock star lucky just to work indoors.”
We’re lucky he isn’t really out of work. The album comes out in a few days, and beforehand, locals can see him at the Bluebird Cafe (4104 Hillsboro Road, 383-1461) tonight alongside some justifiably lauded songwriting friends, Marshall Chapman and Tim Krekel.
The show starts at 9:30 and tickets are $15.
—NICOLE KEIPER, STAFF WRITER
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Tommy Womack
There, I Said It!
Label: Cedar Creek (www.cedarcreekmusic.com)
If you like: Todd Snider
Song to download: “Too Much Month At The End Of The Xanax”
There, I Said It! is Tommy Womack’s first album since venturing back into the musical career that he thought he had abandoned - and that had abandoned him. It’s filled with the wittily honest, self-inflicted songs of introspection that are Womack’s specialty - only this time, they’re even better.
This is the diary of his mental collapse. This is also the story of his recovery. He tells his tale through great songs and written narrative. By rights, it should be dark stuff, and it has its harrowing moments -from the somber “A Songwriter’s Prayer” to the self-deprecating reality check of “I Want A Cigarette.”
But Womack’s way with detail, his conversational narrative style and, more than anything, his unfailing sense of humor (one that leads to hard truths) carries the darkest moments, and the listener, toward the light. And it soon becomes readily apparent that this album is more than just a remarkable bit of playing and songwriting. There, I Said It! is really a how-to manual for every artistic soul who struggles to survive in a world in which art is not seen as the life force it is.
- Ed Bumgardner, relish staff writer
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Country Music CD Review
Tommy Womack
There, I Said It! (2007)
Cedar Creek
Reviewed by Steven Freedman
Can a blistering self-analysis of one's psyche be transformed into a commercially viable CD" In the case of singer-songwriter Tommy Womack's heavily autobiographical latest, the answer is an enthusiastic "yes."
Although this is Womack's fifth solo album, it is his first since suffering a nervous breakdown nearly four years ago.
If nothing else, Womack is blatantly honest about his psychological travails as he deftly takes the listener on a journey detailing his emotional highs and lows. He explores desultory leanings on such songs as "I Want a Cigarette" and the melodic "25 Years Ago," and he can just as easily shift gears to the euphoric as on the ethereal "Everything's Coming Up Roses Again." He even manages to poke fun at himself by employing sardonic wit on "I'm Never Gonna Be a Rock Star" (with a nice vocal assist from Lisa Gray).
However, Womack is at the top of his game when his songs become an amalgam of emotions as they do on the highly lyrical "A Nice Day" and the highlight of the album, "A Cockroach After the Bomb" where he sums it all up by exclaiming "Sometimes you knock one out of the park/Sometimes you're a victim of circumstance." Touché.
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Tommy Womack
Circus Town
Sideburn
Former Government Cheese honcho, world-renowned author of The Cheese Chronicles and solo artist, Tommy Womack is Tom Lehrer* with a Telecaster. What else would you call a guy who hides the song “I’m Selling Mom’s Urine on eBay” at the end of this, his third solo record? Well, how about literate and intelligent? Songs such as “Tough” and “We Can’t Do This Anymore” steer clear of the yucks, and are smart, sassy and heartfelt without being cloyingly cute. Womack captures mood like an emotional Polaroid on such songs as “You Could Be at the Beach Right Now, Little Girl” or the title cut. His sidemen, who include Bill Lloyd, Will Kimbrough, Ken McMahan and Lisa Oliver Gray on lovely vocals give the record a “two beers down, roll tape” sorta feel, well captured by co-producer David Henry and Womack. Womack’s homage to The Replacements, with its somber violins and cellos is subtle and moving, and the lines “Paul is in the basement, writing ballads, drinking O’Douls/Bob is up in Heaven, shooting speed and smoking Kools” probably sums up the current state of ‘Mats affairs as well as can be done. This record is more sedate in points than some of his past work, but suffers not a bit for it. Every Tommy Womack record has moments of “you gotta hear this” on it, and Circus Town is no exception.
* Tom Lehrer is a musical satirist who grew to fame in the 1960s, penning such songs as “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park” and “The Old Dope Peddler.” Never heard of him? Ask your parents.
Tommy Womack: http://www.tommywomack.com
James Mann
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Blogs, etc.
http://www.hillbippie.com/content.asp
http://www.moodyloner.net/
http://www.anchoragepress.com/archives-2007/yeahyeahvol16ed7.html
http://blog.durnmoose.com/
http://jonathanrundman.blogspot.com/2007/02/god-bless-tommy-womack-side-man-gigs.html
http://www.vanderbilt.edu/register/articles?id=32239
http://store.milesofmusic.com/Compact_Discs/Tommy_Womack/43721.html
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Scanned documents, click to view:
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