Okay, here's my Top Ten (actually, Twelve), for what they're worth:

1, 2, and 3. STEVE GOODMAN, BOB DYLAN, and JOHN PRINE. All are poets; all masters in the use of words. None of them were good singers, or good guitarists (though they all got better over time); all they had to work with really was their words, and to the extent they became well-known, it was the words that did it.. Steve Goodman probably tops the list just because he had so much fun at it. Of all the people whose styles I've tried to imitate, these three are the ones I've tried to emulate the most. I think they've had the most to teach me.

4, 5 and 6. TOM PAXTON, ELVIS PRESLEY, and AVRIL LAVIGNE. (Obviously, I'm partial to people who write and perform their own material.) Paxton and Presley were both masters of delivery and inflection, even though Elvis had a Voice and Paxton didn't. I credit Avril Lavigne with the modern overtones in my latest country-music songs; can't exactly call it "rap," but it's the way she strings words together.

7 and 8. THE BEATLES and THE GRATEFUL DEAD. The Beatles are a reminder that creativity can come from strange places–a lot of theirs stemmed from that creative tension between Lennon and McCartney. I've tried to look for creative stimulus in all sorts of places, and have found it in a few odd ones myself. The Beatles are also evidence of how far you can go if you never stop pushing the envelope. From the Dead I learned you can be uncompromising and sometimes get away with it–and I've tried to emulate that, too. (My favorite Dead songs are the country ones.)

9 and 10. BING CROSBY and FRANK SINATRA. Both taught me that the voice, too, is an instrument. Sinatra probably worked harder at it; I never particularly liked any of his stuff, or learned to play any of it, but I picked up a lot about technique from listening to him. Crosby was more of a natural talent–but surgically precise in his delivery.

11. BILL MONROE, for his professionalism (though I like the music, too). He and the Bluegrass Boys were the most professional group of musicians it has ever been my pleasure to meet, see, and hear. Others are artists, performers, and poets; Bill Monroe is the only one I'd characterize as a craftsman.

12. Lastly–and on reflection, he should probably top the list–JEFF TANZER, the late lead guitarist and other songwriter in the Dodson Drifters, the bluegrass band I played in 20-odd years ago. Jeff wasn't a real great guitarist, and not a great singer, either (country music with a powerful New York City Jewish accent)–what he could do was *perform*, and he taught me and the rest of the band how to do it, too. He could also write (yep, my heroes have always been writers), and he and I developed the same kind of creative tension that Lennon and McCartney had. One of the Dodson Drifters' claims to fame was the amount of original material we did–and Jeff and I wrote just about all of it. Unlike Lennon and McCartney, we actually liked–and enjoyed singing–each other's material.

And there you have it–for right now. (The list will obviously lengthen over time, because one never stops being influenced by the outside world.) It kinda surprised me that Hank Williams (Senior, of course) didn't make the list; he was a good writer, and performer, and arguably one of the biggest influences on country music (and I can even strain my voice far enough to sing a couple of his songs)–but he just wasn't that big an influence on *me*. (He does figure in a song I was working on, though–"Won't Someone Dig Hank Williams Up and Make Him Play Some More.") T.A.N.A.F.T, I guess (There Ain't No Accounting For Taste).

Joe