
Marty Robbins – Joli Girl: A Sweet, Swinging Snapshot of Urban Romance from the Unexpected Cowboy of Country
Now here is a delightful departure, a song that perfectly illustrates just how much ground Marty Robbins covered in his long and brilliant career. When we think of Robbins, we often go straight to the stark desert drama of “El Paso” or the rugged morality of “Big Iron.” But for those of us who grew up with his full catalog—a treasure chest of country, pop, rockabilly, and Hawaiian tunes—we know he could effortlessly transform into the romantic balladeer, and few tracks show this versatility better than “Joli Girl.”
Released as a single on the Columbia label in 1970, the track was a refreshing throwback to the Nashville Sound’s ability to cross genres. It was penned not by Robbins, but by songwriter B. Fowler, and it quickly proved its charm by climbing the charts. “Joli Girl” reached a peak position of Number 7 on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart, a remarkable showing that proves his audience embraced his adventurous side. Even more interestingly, the song briefly “bubbled under” the main Billboard Hot 100 at Number 108, suggesting a small crossover success that speaks to its universal appeal.
What truly makes this song a standout is its vibrant, unexpected setting. Instead of dusty trails or dimly lit cantinas, “Joli Girl” paints a vivid, almost cinematic picture of a day spent in Greenwich Village, New York City. The lyrics are a charmingly detailed chronicle of a simple, romantic outing: walking hand-in-hand through the park, buying a red rose from a flower lady, stopping at a fruit stand for “coconut champagne,” and ducking into a cluttered antique shop to escape the rain. It’s a gentle, swinging pop tune that places the country crooner firmly in the urban landscape, observing the little ironies and sweet moments of city life: a taxi driver cursing, a blind man tapping his thanks with a cane.
For readers who remember the transition from the 1960s to the 1970s, this song holds a special memory. It captures the spirit of a brief, innocent moment—a perfect date where the whole world seems to conspire to make the lovers happy, and they wish “the end would never come.” The feeling is wistful, sentimental, and deeply romantic, delivered with Marty Robbins’ signature smooth, understated baritone. He was never one to strain for effect; his voice simply glides over the melody, letting the warmth of the story do the work.
The success of “Joli Girl” served as a late-career reminder of Robbins’ incredible range. He could put down the “Gunfighter Ballads” and still top the charts with a sophisticated, lighthearted love song. It wasn’t just his ability to sing different styles; it was his unparalleled sincerity in every note, whether he was facing down a desert villain or holding a girl close on a rainy New York street. “Joli Girl” is one of those sweet, unexpected gems that brightened the radio waves in 1970, and it remains a lovely piece of nostalgia that reminds us of the time when a cowboy from Arizona could truly sing about everything under the sun, and do it with grace and success. Oh, “Joli Girl,” indeed—a beautiful memory wrapped in a wonderful tune.