ROGER MARSHALL Every so often, destiny has its way.  Talent, charisma, good looks, hard work, and an innate sense of artistry converge to create musical magic.  Even more amazing, the jaded record industry actually notices, on occasion, seizing the moment to the delight of million.  But this is not that story.

 No, for Roger Marshall & the Law, getting a shot was never that easy.  For Roger in particular, nothing has been easy.  Here’s a man who set out for a career in music over 30 years ago.  He’s been signed by one of Nashville’s most prominent procedures and record executives, but that early career momentum unraveled with little fanfare.  He was the first to record one of the biggest smash singles in the history of country music, but his version was never released.  And he was stricken with cancer in his prime, forced to put down the musical ambitions that had always driven him.     

No, this isn’t a tale about planets aligning, fortuitous occurrences, and overnight success.  Instead, it’s a lesson in persistence and, at the same time, a remarkable example of simple devotion to music.  “My dad was a musician, and I was raised around it,” Roger Marshall says.  “His love for country and bluegrass was a big influence on me.”  “My first gig was playing guitar in the DeeJay Band.  That was 1972.  I started my own group, the Silver Dollar Band in 1977.”  Marshall’s band opened for The Byrds, Loretta Lynn, Tanya Tucker, Carl Perkins, and more, eventually drawing the attention of noted country producer Harold Shedd (Alabama) who cut an album with Marshall.

When Shedd was tapped to run Mercury Records, he approached producer Russ Zavitson and publisher Larry Shell and encouraged them to continue the work he had started with Marshall.  Though the album was completed, investors backing the project pulled out before the first single got off of the ground.  Shedd, of course, went on to have enormous success with a signer named Billy Ray Cyrus whose hit “Achy Breaky Heart” was actually first recorded by, yes, Roger Marshall.  The Fort Wayne, Indiana native continued to tour, hoping for another chance.  Tragically, a discovery in the mid-eighties drastically changed those plans.  “I ended up with testicular cancer,” he says.  “It moved into my lymph nodes and went all through my body.  I was supposed to play a show in Detroit and the doctor just said, `No, you’re done.’  It broke my heart.”  “I was having radiation five days a week and couldn’t do anything.  I gave up my home, quit playing music, and sold all of my equipment.  I was hurting every day and night and they couldn’t find the source.  Finally, they went in and took out seven feet of my intestines.  It was pretty bad.  They thought I wasn’t going to live and couldn’t believe it when I pulled through.  I gained 40 pounds and beat the cancer.  That just shows you that nothing is out of the question.”

To celebrate his recovery, Marshall did what came naturally.  He put a band together and started touring.  Aside from the two years he was battling cancer, he’s spent his entire adult life making music.  “We were just having a good time,” he says.  “Playing those Moose lodges.  I went and saw Russ a few times.  Eventually, I started thinking there’s room for an old guy like me.  The music we all grew up loving just wasn’t being represented.  People just don’t get to hear as much of the country rock thing as they used to.”

Zavitson was skeptical.  “Last summer he came to town, found me and said he wanted to make another record.  He told me he’d survived cancer, fought through a lot, and wanted another go.  I tried my best to dissuade him.  He just said, `I want my shot back.  This is all I ever wanted to do.’”  At face value, it was the most improbable of propositions.  A 30-year club circuit vet fronting a band that features two of his sons, a guitar player named Meatball, and a bassist who looks like Kramer from Seinfield.  On top of that, the band, well, brings it.  “We play with a little punch,” Meatball admits.  “We don’t want to just sit there like we’re playing the Holiday Inn.  I might be old, but I’m kickin’.”

Despite the odds against them in this world of airbrushed country, Zavitson began to believe none of it mattered nearly as much as the music.  As Marshall sings in the group’s new single, “You never know what you might find hiding in the wide open.”  Maybe destiny will have its way yet.