Defend its Existence

Willie Nelson & Wynton Marsalis

by Caralyn Green

Some pairings make total sense. Wine and cheese. Coffee and chocolate. Hall and Oates. Madonna and Justin Timberlake. Simon and Garfunkel. Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus. Peter and Bjorn and John. Tegan and Sara. Tilly and the Wall. Serge Gainsbourg and France Gall. The Velvet Underground and Nico. Hercules and Love Affair. Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins. The Captain and Tennille.

Other pairings, not so much. Scallion cream cheese on a blueberry bagel, for instance. Delicious individually; offensive when combined.

But sometimes weird combos can work. Like pineapple pizza. R. Kelly and Celine Dion. Willie Nelson and Wynton Marsalis.

Willie and Wynton—icons of country and jazz, respectively—went and recorded themselves a live blues album that leaves nothing even close to a bitter aftertaste. Two Men With the Blues is every bit the album you’d expect from the multiple-Grammy-Award-winners: It’s enjoyable even if you’re not a fan of country or jazz or Willie or Wynton.

“Bright Lights, Big City” gets a swinging honky-tonk treatment. “Stardust” sounds scraggly and sad rather than smooth like how Nat King Cole, Louis Armstrong and Sinatra do it. Joyous album-closer “That’s All” melds Wynton’s ever-impressive trumpet skills with some down-home harmonica-sucking.

If Starbucks weren’t reigning in its entertainment division, Two Men With the Blues would be the perfect addition to its Hear Music roster of latte-sipping sounds—recent releases by Joni Mitchell and Paul McCartney; compilations featuring John Coltrane, James Brown, Aretha Franklin and Thelonious Monk; “Artist’s Choice” mixtapes from Tony Bennett, Norah Jones and Bob Dylan. Music that’s inoffensively good, that appeals to the masses, that spans genres and generations.

’Cause like Donny and Marie before them (a little bit country, a little bit rock ’n’ roll), Willie and Wynton are bridging the genre and generation gap, and making it make sense.