Essay: Country Music Doesn’t Suck, You Just Aren’t Listening to the Right Stuff

Guest Post: Today’s essay, written by noted Austin-based columnist and writer Robert Dean explores the world of country music and what makes artists working in the often hokey yet deeply traditional genre, authentic. Given you may have extra time on your hands with a new work from home schedule or self-quarantine measures to combat the COVID-19 virus, we thought it timely to share the piece with our readers -Editor

First things first, I loathe pop-country. Even trying to explain how much I want to be thrown into a cornfield Goodfellas-style whenever Sam Hunt or Jason Aldean comes on feels like it doesn’t do justice to my description. When it comes to real country music? Inject that shit directly into my veins, because you put on some classic George Jones or Hank Williams, I’m there all day for it. 

It’s exhausting trying to explain to someone that you like country music when the first thing they think of is some dork in sparkly jeans singing about a dirt road. Yes, for the squares, this is considered “country music.” For the rest of us who’ve got a clue, for every time we’ve had to endure someone saying, “ Country? Ugh. I like that old, grimy shit. Waylon, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson. Why can’t country music sound like that still?”

Every conversation with an outsider feels like trying to convert a non-believer, while when you talk to a pop-country fan, you’re speaking two completely different languages. The stuff that sounds like a Jergens commercial featuring casual mentions of a cold beer and girls in cutoffs is nothing more than pop music, while the good stuff, that good shit, is only a song skip away.

Do you know the name, Joshua Hedley? If you don’t, you should. His record Mr. Jukebox was released on Jack White’s Third Man Records. It crushes. It’s got enormous hooks, pedal steel and a smooth as silk voice with plenty of, “yeah, I fucked up” moments. The dude blazes on fiddle, and his mind is a collection of every old school country tune known to man. He’s worth every penny seeing him live or at the very least, some Spotify streams. 

This is a prime example of an incredible artist who didn’t get the shake he deserved. The music business is filled with those, but listen to his record and tell me I’m wrong. 

When it comes to why this type of straight, no chaser country singers operate in direct competition to the Nashville music machine, context is essential. This is most definitely not an overnight thing. Pop influencing country music has been the scenario for decades. That’s it, there’s no mystery. Nashville has always been about selling records first and art later. 

It’s time for a quick country history lesson

Country music stems from two branches of a tree: the Carter Family and Jimmy Rogers. You know that whole mythic lonesome rambler off on a destructive path? That’s Jimmy Rogers. All of the Hank Williams, Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan, Waylon, Cash, Willie, Roy Acuff, Hank Snow, all of those legends owe their allegiance to Jimmy Rogers. Full stop. 

When it comes to bands and general style, that’s the Carter Family. The soaring harmonies, “three chords and the truth”- plus the whole being scared of god thing, that’s based on the spirituals the Carters used to sing.

Here’s a bonus fact: June Carter, Cash’s wife, her mom was Mother Maybelle, who invented how country music sounds on a guitar. Let that sink in a bit.

Without these two main influences, country music doesn’t have an identity. From the 1930’s up until Sam Phillips laid tape for some guys in Memphis, country, and the blues owned the radio. But, while the 1950’s honky-tonkin’ good time stuff dominated the airwaves, rock n roll came in swinging. Hard. People in Nashville panicked. The safety of the traditional country was out as these long-haired rock and rollers were wiggling their asses and talking about the same shit, but only this time, it wasn’t between the lines with a coy smile. These boys wanted to bang your daughter and then tell you about it. 

To combat this, the Nashville folks tripled down on the wholesome. They had no choice, all the kids wanted Elvis and Little Richard. Country was decidedly very uncool. To win back the squares, the record company suits figured out “the Nashville Sound.” Which was these lush string arrangements and sugary, over the top harmonies. This whole thing led to the evolution of countrypolitan, an ever more refined sound that ole knuckle-dragging, beer-drinking good timers fucking hated. It was too clean, it was safe, it wasn’t talking about good women and late nights, but instead sounded like soap commercials. 

Country music just ain’t that

Remember that scene in Jurassic Park when Jeff Goldblum and his beautiful ass dropped the poetic science, “life finds a way.” Yeah, country music is like that, too. 

Willie Nelson and to an extent, Waylon Jennings were victims of the countrypolitan sound, but their insistence on giving the finger to the lush arrangements lead to them being labeled “outlaws.” They had careers, but they never played the game in earnest. When Willie dropped the Red Headed Stranger, people in Nashville figured on it being his career suicide letter. Funny how that worked out. 

Their movement helped get Johnny Cash thrust back into relevance.  By way of artists refusing to sound like the pop garbage Nashville was pumping out, people like Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, John Prine, and Emmylou Harris got to join the party. 

Since the 1970s, acts like The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, The Flying Burrito Brothers, The Band, and Bob Dylan were all experimenting with country music elements. Those classic Bakersfield records by Merle Haggard and Buck Owens had grit and boy could those bands rip on their instruments. For all of the rock and roll bravado, The Rolling Stones started listening to Hank Williams, who is the grandfather of punk rock, no matter how you slice it. The Stones’ “Wild Horses” is a country music song. Exile on Main Street is heavily influenced by country music, as is Sticky Fingers, Let it Bleed, etc. 

The OG elements of country had heart and soul. No one wanted velveteen nonsense, they wanted Waylon coked out of his mind and Cash giving the finger to photographers while whacked out on pills. 

The roots of the real shit 

The pop side of the genre has never stopped steamrolling people from middle America to the suburbs. The music is designed to be non-threatening, pro-American dream, fluff. But, like punk rock boiled under the surface of those goons filling stadiums with keyboard and laser light shows, a vast, underground country scene has risen up quietly.  

Chris Stapleton, Sturgill Simpson and Tyler Childers are three of the biggest names who are taking country music to new places. Stapleton is obviously massive, considering a few years back, “Tennessee Whiskey” was a monster hit. Sturgill Simpson is no slouch, either. He’s won a Grammy, been nominated for record of the year, but has still never been invited to the CMA’s (Country Music Awards) – he even went so far as busking in front of the CMAs with his Grammy in his guitar case, where people walking by threw him dollars. 

Tyler Childers takes the best of the deep, hollering Appalachia and moves into heartbreaking songs about triumph, loss and addiction. All three of these artists are paving the way every night for some kid who’s got the outlaw country truth locked inside of ’em. 

There’s a subset of artists who take the traditional values of the genre, the looks, the sounds, the cadence and understand it. But they also know blues, rock n roll, punk and other genres. This sound is devastating live. These are the acts out there grinding away night after night, understanding that while records are cool, they make their names touring, hitting rooms all over the country, giving their everything to music fans. 

Right now, we’re blessed with a lot of artists who are what those people who want, the old-school country music lovers want: the pedal steel, the high lonesome vocals, the broken hearts, the good times and the lives twisted with sin.

If you crave late nights in dive bars, there’s a soundtrack that the people who “like country music” don’t even know about. While they’re cranking up the Darius Rucker or Tim McGraw, there’s a festering cauldron of artists ready to take you to church – and not the kind your grandma went to every Sunday.

The future is covered in neon and booze 

Kacey Musgraves is clearly a knockout, but it’s not her looks that kicked down the doors in Nashville. Everything about Musgraves is incredible. She’s a brilliant songwriter who set her own pace, always allowing Music City to think they had her figured out while doing her own thing every single time. Her songs might have a pop quality, but there’s no denying how powerful “Slow Burn” or “Follow Your Arrow” are. When other artists would have loved to collaborate with some rapper, Musgraves has paid tribute to the legendary women of country music, along with the Texan god Willie Nelson. 

There are other artists building reputations one night at a time like Cody Jinks, Justin Wells, and Caleb Caudle, all three road dogs who are giving you country music in earnest and free of the bullshit but steeped in tradition and attitude. Karly Driftwood is cut from the cloth of rock and roll nightmares but mixes a sound that’s classic country songwriting but has a 1990’s alternative feel. You can hear Lucinda Williams, but you also hear Courtney Love, too. 

Bright Eyes is back after a few years off, and are about to hit the world a few times over, because really, aren’t we all just suckers for Connor Oberst? If you’re not familiar, you need to hit one of their live shows and listen to I’m Wide Awake, it’s Morning immediately. 

Turnpike Troubadours might be on hiatus, but damn, they were special. Lucero is the perfect mixture of sadness, good times, and a lot of Jameson. There’s not a band working harder than those guys, hitting every big city and small town in between. Along with folks like Austin Lucas, Charley Crockett, and Paul Cauthen. Darci Carlson, Jamie Lin Wyatt, Amanda Shires, Senora May, are all women who are killing it. The Steel Woods, Ian Noe, the absolutely unfuckwithable shaman that is Shooter Jennings. (Seriously. Shooter gets better as the days pass, he’s on his way from going from grey to white wizard.)

These folks are giving their blood and sweat every single night

And don’t forget, there are a ton of older artists out there still on the road like Dwight Yoakam who’s still slaying every night. Same with Robert Earl Keen. Even Reba is still out belting “Fancy.”

That “cool” country music isn’t dead. It’s thriving. Get on Spotify or iTunes and look any of these acts up. If you want those late nights, the heartbreaking songs, the rowdy bangers, they’re all drifting through your town, all you’ve gotta do is find your boot size and get in some dives. We’re waiting for you.