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One of my favorite songs: wsj.com How Kenny Rogers Aced ‘The Gambler’ Marc Myers
It’s rare when the title of a hit song becomes the singer’s nickname, but that’s what happened when Kenny Rogers released “The Gambler” 40 years ago in late 1978.
Written by Don Schlitz, “The Gambler” became a No. 1 hit on Billboard’s country chart for Mr. Rogers and reached No. 16 on the pop chart. Mr. Rogers and Mr. Schlitz both won Grammy Awards for the song.
Recently, Mr. Schlitz and Mr. Rogers looked back at the writing and recording of the song. Mr. Rogers’s latest album is “The Best of Kenny Rogers: Through the Years” (Capitol Nashville/UMe). Edited from interviews.
Don Schlitz, writer of ‘The Gambler,’ and Kenny Rogers perform in 2012 in Nashville, Tenn. Photo: Rick Diamond/Getty Images
Don Schlitz: In 1973, after three freshman semesters at Duke University, I dropped out at age 20 and boarded a bus from Durham, N.C., to Nashville. I had just $89 in my pocket. I wanted to be a songwriter.
To pay the bills, I took a job as a computer operator at Vanderbilt University. I worked the graveyard shift, from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. My job was to call my boss if the giant computer went down, as it often did.
In the morning, after work, I’d sometimes head off to the office of Bob McDill, one of the best songwriters in Nashville. He had agreed to see me regularly to hear my songs, critique them and give me advice. It was my first real break.
One day in August 1976, when I was 23, I was at Bob’s office and told him I was having trouble cranking out songs. Sitting behind his desk with his guitar, Bob showed me an open-D tuning on the guitar, so all six strings played a D-major chord.
By strumming three different chords using that tuning, Bob created a drone sound that was an ideal backdrop for writing songs.
After I left Bob’s office that morning, I walked a mile back to my studio apartment on Fairfax Avenue. Along the way, those three chords and that drone sound stuck in my head. I started writing the lyrics to a song.
The strumming sound in my head sounded like a train. So I wrote about a young guy on a train who meets an older gambler. I’d never been on a train before, but I was an avid reader and had a pretty good imagination.
I wasn’t really a poker player either, but I had played nickel-dime poker in high school and knew enough poker terms.
By the time I arrived home, I had the song’s story and most of the lyrics done in my head—all except for the last eight-line verse.
I titled the song “The Gambler.” My 10th-grade English teacher had emphasized the importance of a title. The idea for the gambler may have been inspired by my father, who had died a couple of years earlier.
My dad wasn’t a gambler. He was a Durham, N.C., policeman and a great man. I wanted the song to feel like one of our talks, in which he stressed the importance of making good choices.
Inside my apartment, I began to bang out the lyrics on my dad’s L.C. Smith manual typewriter. For the song, I cast the gambler’s advice in poker terms, but I didn’t have a time period in mind. I typed out the chorus first:
“You’ve got to know when to hold ’em / know when to fold ’em / know when to walk away / and know when to run / You never count your money / when you’re sittin’ at the table / There’ll be time enough for countin’ / when the dealin’s done.”
Then I wrote three verses—starting with the young man’s narration about meeting the gambler: “On a warm summer’s evenin’ / on a train bound for nowhere / I met up with the gambler / We were both too tired to sleep.”
The second verse is about the gambler noticing that the young man is struggling with a problem: “Son, I’ve made a life / out of readin’ people’s faces/ Knowin’ what the cards were / by the way they held their eyes.”
The third was about the gambler giving the young man some advice: “If you’re gonna play the game, boy / you gotta learn to play it right.”
I wrote the music at the same time I wrote the words. Days later, When I played “The Gambler” for songwriter Jim Rushing along with a bunch of my other incomplete songs, he said, “That’s the one you ought to finish.”
It took six weeks to come up with the last eight-line verse: “And when he finished speakin’ / he turned back toward the window / Crushed out his cigarette / and faded off to sleep / And somewhere in the darkness / the gambler, he broke even / But in his final words / I found an ace that I could keep.”
When I was done, I played “The Gambler” for everyone who’d listen. I wanted to get a song published so badly. Jim introduced me to Paul Craft, who had a publishing company with Audie Ashworth, who produced J.J. Cale.
Audie produced a demo of me playing and singing the song. Next, Audie and Paul published “The Gambler,” and Paul and Jim started performing it around town. But I still couldn’t get the song recorded by a top artist.
So Paul introduced me to Merlin Littlefield, who worked at ASCAP. Merlin sent my demo to producer Larry Butler, and Audie sent the demo to local radio stations.
Paul was close with singer Bobby Bare and told him about “The Gambler.” After he played him my demo, Bobby recorded it. But the great Billy Sherrill, his producer, didn’t think it was strong enough for a single. So it remained on Bobby’s album that came out in April 1978.
Kenny Rogers: I first heard “The Gambler” at a studio in Nashville in the spring of ’78. My producer, Larry Butler, was looking for songs with hit potential for my next album.
Larry played me Bobby Bare’s version. As I recall, he also played me a demo that Johnny Cash made of the song. Larry was going to produce Johnny’s recording a few weeks later. I liked the song, but after hearing Johnny’s version, I realized I was in over my head. Johnny had a way with a song. A lot of people can tell the same story, but stylistically, each artist gives a song its own identity. I had to come at the song differently.
To me, the song’s story sounded as if it took place on a train traveling through the Old West. I also liked the music’s rollicking cadence. We decided to give it a try.
As I looked down the lyric sheet and sang the song in my head, the first three verses seemed very long. So Larry and I moved up the chorus to create a break in the story.
I left the arranging to Larry. He had the song open with an acoustic guitar solo. I liked that. He also modulated the key up a step at the start of the fourth verse, to shift gears and add a little drama.
[On June 16], the day I came in to Jack Clement Recording Studio to record my vocal, the music was already in place on the tape. I put on the headphones and sang to the instrumental track. We adjusted the music later as needed with overdubs.
Kenny Rogers, left, and producer Larry Butler in February 1980 at the Grammy Awards in Los Angeles. Photo: Fotos International/Archive Photos/Getty Images
Mr. Schlitz:I first heard Kenny’s soulful version at Merlin’s office just before it came out. Merlin had it on a tape. Kenny gave it life. It’s his song now—and it’s how I hear the song whenever I play it on my guitar. I gave my original lyric sheet to Jim Rushing, the songwriter who told me “The Gambler” was the one I should finish.
Mr. Rogers:As I recorded my vocal that day, Ray Charles came to mind. I had seen Ray in concert when I was a young boy in Houston. From then on, I knew exactly what I wanted to accomplish in life. Years later, I had an opportunity to collaborate and perform with Ray. That was a dream come true because it brought me full circle with my childhood aspiration.
His concert left a big impact on me.
Ray was a mentor to me for many years, whether he knew it or not. Some of that came through on “The Gambler.” While singing about the older gambler giving advice to the younger man on the train, I was thinking about Ray.
I’m still not sure why my version caught on as it did. I was a relatively new solo artist then, so I guess people were paying closer attention.
Somewhere along the way, the song’s title became my nickname. People still call me “The Gambler.” Funny thing is I’m not much of a poker player. Or a gambler.
