Billy Dean

When Billy Dean left Quincy, Florida on a basketball scholarship at a small Mississippi scholarship, he’d spent his Senior Year of high school as an 18-year old able to play local clubs with his band all around the Florida panhandle. No one in his family had ever been to college; it was a big deal to his father, a disabled World War 2 vet who also had his own country band, and the long-haired beach kid didn’t want to let the family down. But the pull of music was too strong. He couldn’t help himself. Bathed in Merle Haggard, the poet of working people, it wasn’t long until he found his way to the once formidable Wrangler Country Talent Competition, making it all the way to the television competition and Top 10. He didn’t win, but he played one of his original songs, met a woman named Frances Preston, who advised him at 6’4”, he should never sing sitting down again. He didn’t realize she was one of the most powerful women in the music industry globally, running BMI’s Nashville office. It wasn’t long, though, until the kid found himself in Nashville, chasing the streets and the dream. Signed to the publishing company that boasted Guy Clark, Richard Leigh (“Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue,” “Come From The Heart”) and Wayland Holyfield (“You’re The Best Break This Old Heart Ever Had,” “Rednecks, White Socks and Blue Ribbon Beer”), he realized the power of songs... and it wasn’t long until his “Somewhere In My Broken Heart” took the Academy of Country Music’s Song of the Year. In 1992, Dean was on a roll. Young Man, his debut, was certified gold. He was opening the Judds’ Farewell Tour. He topped the Radio & Records Chart with his ACM Award winner–and its predecessor “Only Here For A Little While”–on his way to also winning the Academy’s Top New Male Artist Award. Grounded in innocence, hope and vulnerability, Dean represented a counter-balance in country music: someone manifesting the singer/songwriter side of the genre, exploring emotions, the heart and how it manifests in the same way Kris Kristofferson had done a quarter century before. But Billy Dean exuded a sweetness that was the polar opposite of the pick-up driving, beer-swilling good time cowboys who manifested in the wake of his labelmate and impending supernova Garth Brooks.