Help came from the special people in his life, especially from his children. "That was the key thing," Billy says. "They ended up parenting me. Like, if I was fighting with my ex-wife, my little girl would go, 'Well, why don't you just not fight?' And I'm like, 'Uh … yeah! Why do I get suckered into fighting like this?' These kinds of things made me listen to my kids in a new way. That's where that line comes from in 'Let Them Be Little': 'And now you're teaching me how only a child can see.'"
Trading showbiz illusions for his true role as a father, Billy recorded one last album seven years ago and then rebuilt his world, top to bottom. "I began by facing my darkest, worst fears," he says, "which came from growing up poor. So I took that off the table. For three years I spent down to the last dollar, selling property and dipping into credit cards -- but I was bankrolling my freedom. I was doing what I had to do to make sure I could have a career on my own terms, without saying 'yes' to everybody who wanted me to do this or that. And I began to feel better. I realized that if I ended up dirt poor, back in the poverty house, at least I'd know that I'd worked my butt off and given my best. If that's how my career had to end, I could accept those terms."
Instead, Billy discovered a different creative space, in which he felt stronger as an artist. He began writing songs more often -- songs that tapped into his experiences rather than someone else's idea of what might sell. Paradoxically, the more candidly he wrote, the more expressive and accessible his work became. "It picked up a kind of energy that wasn't there before," he explains. "I'd been known as a balladeer, and I had struggled hard to stay in a commercial vein. But letting go of that, I've found a more natural way of making music. It's really opened me up."
Producing himself and paying his own way, Billy recorded "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" last year, as a rock 'n' bluegrass romp that trumpeted his invigorated creativity. Though released independently, with Billy, Herb Graham and Doc Gonzales handling the entire business side, the public took notice and helped launch the single at No. 49 on the Billboard country charts. Rising into the top twenty, it hastened Curb Records' offer -- and Billy's acceptance -- of a record deal. As usual, he doesn't resort to corporate-speak in explaining why he signed with Curb:
"We kicked their ass," he laughs. "We were jumping major artists in the charts, from labels that had staffs or eight or ten people. That made us a good investment."
Actually, it goes deeper than that, to Billy Dean's epiphany that "music" comes before "business" in the country music business. "I live a real person's life," he insists. "My career is not my life, and that scares a lot of people who think that means that you're not going to give it your best. Well, my message is, 'Man, let me have a life, and I'll give you the best stuff you could ever possibly listen to.'"
The proof is in Let Them Be Little: Billy Dean is back -- and he's got it right.