Country at the Crossroads (Will the Devil Never Tire?)
by Alice DuBois
Part I - Bleached
In 1980, when I was 9 years old, I went with my family to see "The Blues Brothers."
I wasn't normally allowed to see 'R' rated films, but we had really gone to see
"The Empire Strikes Back", which was sold out; "The Blues Brothers" was the only
other plausible choice, I guess. I remember the scene where the Blues Brothers
wander aimlessly looking for a gig and end up in central Indiana, at Bob's Country
Bunker. They go in and lie to the owners, saying they are the "Good Ol' Boys"-the
candy-ass, fluffy, C&W band that hasn't shown up yet. The Bunker fills to
capacity and the urban R&B ensemble get ready to start playing. They open
with Steve Winwood's "Give Me Some Lovin'" which inspires vicious booing and bottle
throwing. They nearly get 86ed from the joint - the owners turn out the lights
on them, but then they save their hides by quickly brainstorming and launching
into the theme from the T.V. show "Rawhide." The crowd is whipped into an adoring
frenzy, which continues as the band then starts in on "Stand By Your Man" (with
gestures).
The joke is fairly obvious: a R&B band get stuck in a roomfull of country
music fans, expected to entertain them. The country fans, of course, don't dig
the hard-driving blues-based sound, but the comically over-the-top country tunes
are a big hit. I thought that was very funny-the ridiculousness of a blues band
playing for a country audience. But what has become obvious to me only recently
is that there's more to this scene than meets the eye
The very first performer on the Grand Ol' Opry was a black man. Deford Bailey
was born in 1899 in Bellwood Tennessee. He performed on the Opry, playing his
harmonica, from its beginning in 1928 to 1941. It's never really been revealed
why he left. Deford was a beloved member of the show, but he still faced the overwhelming
racial prejudice that Americans of African descent dealt with. His leaving the
show was mixed with confusion and most likely was rooted in racism - he was told
by George Hay, who ran the Opry, that he had to revamp his entire repertoire in
order to avoid playing songs which he had already recorded. Deford, for whatever
reason, refused. No one really knows why he left- surely he could have increased
his list of songs, but perhaps the issues ran deeper and had more sinister truths
within them. Maybe it was the last straw in a life of being treated as a mascot
and a second-class member of a group. George Hay wrote of Deford: "Like some members
of his race, DeFord was lazy. He knew about a dozen numbers, which he put on the
air and recorded for a major company, but he refused to learn any more." Not all
the members of the Opry thought of Deford merely as a mascot - Bill Monroe, Sam
and Kirk McGee and the Delmore brothers all had immense respect for Deford's musical
ability. Sam McGee even mentions Deford in "Train Blues" saying "here comes Deford
Bailey now with his harmonica." And it makes sense, too, that these particular
country musicians loved Deford and his music: all of them loved and respected
the blues. They had learned much of what they infused in their music from black
musicians.
The list of early country performers who were influenced by, and even many
times taught by, black men is impressive. Hank Williams, Bill Monroe, Jimmie Rodgers,
Bob Wills and countless lesser-known names filled out their anglo-influenced folk
core with the more exotic and foreign grit of blues and even jazz. Bill Monroe's
Bluegrass boys styled their fiddle breakdowns in the format of jazz; improvising
on banjoes and mandolin, spiraling away from the constraints of melody at breakneck
speeds in turn, like a jazz ensemble. The blues can be easily heard in much of
Monroe's music- a scorching, aching riff entwined in a mountain stringband's plaintive
ballad. Bob Wills, western swing pioneer, claims he rode over 50 miles on horseback
to see Bessie Smith, the "Empress of the Blues", sing. His music, and other western
swing outfits, were heavily influenced by both blues and jazz. Western swing is
even sometimes called Hillbilly Jazz.
So, if these were the inventors of country music and they were influenced so
greatly by African styles, where is that influence now? I hear very little blues
or jazz in the vapid Pop-country that dominates the airwaves. Precious few black
performers have made a place for themselves in country music. It's not as if this
influence was exactly celebrated by the white musicians of the time-they did indeed
express great admiration and emulation of black musical styles, but the prejudice
that was so strong in the South discouraged much more than a covert connection.
There's a story that Bob Wills once hired a black trumpet player while in a drunken
condition, then upon sobering up realized his gaffe and quickly dismissed the
player. Whether or not this really occurred, the sentiment was real- blacks and
whites played together in the urban North, but in the South there was still too
much of a taboo to admit that perhaps these African descendents had as much, or
sometimes even more, capability than whites. Bill Monroe didn't speak readily
of the influence that Arnold Schultz, a black blues guitarist and fiddler, had
on him until very late in his career when the barriers of taboo had been dismantled
a bit.
Regardless of how openly it was admitted, the influence of black music upon
country was huge. It was also a key element in the creation of rock 'n' roll;
when Scots-Irish ballads and string music met with the blues, the foundations
were laid for the modified boogie/blues/country that was the infantile rock 'n'
roll. Simple European story-songs and melodies soothed and calmed the ancient,
intense rhythms of Africa and a new style of music was born. The hard-core blues
of Charley Patton and the Carter Family's wavering, modal ballads are connected
to, but also deeply removed from what came decades later. But perhaps the intensity
of Patton and the Carter family is what's lacking in today's music in general,
and most acutely in country. Of course there are bands that haven't severed the
link between country in its heyday and what they play now. Bands that haven't
forsaken the rawness of the early folk tradition and the black influence that
so immensely shaped the original country sound. But they are in the background-seldom
heard, seldom seen and seldom given a chance at a widespread audience. What is
heard - mainstream country - is a watered-down, vapid, hollow shadow of what it
is supposedly derived from. It is an imitation of an imitation. How did that happen?
The fact that country music is considered a purely white idiom (what spells pearly
white more succinctly than country music? Remember, in "The Blues Brothers", the
Nazis pursuing the band are aligned with the Good Ol' Boys {and the police}) is
just one symptom of a larger decline in quality of an under-appreciated, mocked,
but precious art form: country music.
Deford Bailey never revisited the Opry, except once, I think. He had a fond
love for many of his fellow performers and I think he was deeply hurt by what
transpired upon his leaving the show, for he never revealed what had really happened
and he gave up on performing forever afterwards. Sadly, Deford has never been
added to the Country Music Hall of Fame, although non-musician Minnie Pearl has
long been a member. That, by itself, is more telling than any amount of words
on the subject. The first performer on the Grand Ol' Opry, who was hugely popular
and beloved by fans, isn't even considered worthy enough to be added to a hall
of fame.
So when the Blues Brothers' R&B is rejected by the country crowd, perhaps
there is more to it than that simple soul-music-for-country-fans joke. I think
the scene is ironic. The two races once commonly mixed musical styles and ideas,
but somewhere along the line black music got blacker and white music got whiter
and country music lost a magic that had infused it throughout the first half of
the 20th century. A big piece of the magic that was lost was a soulfulness
that was a distinct contribution of the African influence- The Stanley Brother's
bluesy riffs, the swirling jazz of western swing, the boogie of the Maddox Brothers
and Rose. A residual smattering of these elements may still be in popular modern
country, but somehow it's been shorn of all distinction.
Part II - Leeched
Was the bleaching-out of the black element in country music a symptom or a
cause of the decline in quality? Today's country music is bland, over-similar,
unimaginative, corporate, and over-all soul-less. How did this occur? Over the
decades, country lost much more than the evidence of its black influence.
After the birth of rock & roll, country music lost a kind of purity. Many
writers have gone to great lengths to point out that much of the country that
we've grown to think of as "traditional" is, in reality, quite sophisticated and
modern. In "Bluegrass Breakdown", Robert Cantwell points out that Bluegrass was
derived from, but not pure form of, rural folk music. As he points out, it was
infused with blues, jazz, but also a modern speed and sophistication - Sam McGee,
long-time Opry denizen, said he liked Bill Monroe personally, but to him Bluegrass
was just stringband music played too fast. Nevertheless, throughout the first
few decades of country, the link with the original types of rural music was much
stronger and solid. Over the years that link has become almost non-existent in
mainstream country.
The loss of connection to the traditional sounds cannot be attributed solely
to the passage of time. Nor is a resistance to change and advancement the key
to good music. As a matter of fact, the façade of bucolic purity that country
promoters have built around country music has rankled many a musician and hasn't
necessarily kept the important bonds strong. Many early musicians were forced
to dress and act like clover-kickers for the sake of presenting a "country" image.
They were given names like the Fruit Jar Drinkers, the Gully Jumpers and the Skillet
Lickers. They were made to go barefoot and wear overalls, when in reality they
would have preferred to wear their Sunday best when performing. In the world of
country and folk there was an image that the producers wanted to convey and that
the audience came to expect.
The important purity that was lost wasn't image, it was aural - not a slavish
imitation of the past, but an essence of what made the music vital and
exciting in the first place. To avoid change doesn't make great music, but to
lose hold of the important key elements can effectively sever a tradition. The
main culprit in the cutting-off of country from its key traditional link was and
is commerce. In a perfect world, supply and demand would have a pure connection
in music: the musicians would play what they want and if people liked it, they
would listen to it. But the whole process has been whacked way out of shape by
recording, radio, and a whole culture that has sprung up around them of executives,
A&R people and other non-musical pests. The "bottom line" has sway over
much of the music "industry" and quality often gets lost in the shuffle.
Many writers have also gone to great lengths to blame the birth of rock &
roll for the death of the golden era of country music. They say that the popularity
of rock eclipsed the demand for all types of country and also forced country music
itself to assimilate. Some traditional bands like the Osborne Brothers started
using drums and amplifying their instruments. Others, who refused to compromise
their sound, simply had to give up music and turn to other types of employment;
western swing genius Johnny Gimble became a barber and worked in a hospital throughout
the 60's because he couldn't make a living anymore. Genres of country such as
Bluegrass, Western Swing, Cajun and Honky Tonk didn't fade in popularity due to
lack of innovation and willingness to diversify on the part of the musicians.
Indeed, these genres' genesis was based on diversity and innovation. If they had
had a natural atmosphere, unhindered by commerce, they would have evolved into
new realms of great music. But they weren't able to progress organically- the
business end of country was busy making sure it would stay profitable and competitive.
Rock & roll probably did lead to some decline in the popularity of country,
but the shortsightedness of executives surely exacerbated the situation. They
saw that rock & roll was immensely popular, so they focused on that sound,
on that music-and anything not following the exact format was dismissed as passe
(i.e. unprofitable).
What began to evolve in the 50's was a new genre of country music. A generalized,
watered-down, vapid, homogenized conglomerate. A style that embraced the least
important aspects of country music: a general notion of culture and past, but
no specific regional aspects; certain instruments like steel guitar which evoked
a false feeling of kinship with a previous tradition; and, most importantly, a
singer with a twangy southern accent which helps create the illusion of connection.
Of course, there were those who followed a different path. Those who progressed
organically as if the commerce and greed hadn't bastardized the way. But the route
for these individuals wasn't easy - they were labeled "outlaws", considered marginal
much of the time, rejected by Nashville. They had ties with rock, but they didn't
use it as a means to blend in - they were forging new pathways in spite of the
pressure to stay monotonous. Willy Nelson has great love and respect for western
swing and merged the boogie, funk and soul of it into his own music. Perhaps if
Gram Parsons hadn't been independently wealthy we wouldn't have had his inspired
mixture of traditional country and rock. Steve Earle, Lucinda Williams, Dwight
Yoakam and others have, against all odds, carved a place for a non-corporate country
sound in the sinister and self-serving music industry. Others, many others, are
not so lucky. Not heard, not seen, rarely played on the radio - the plucky bands
who maintain the link to the past and want to also plunge ahead are not at all
respected in the money-conscious world of country music. They must find loopholes,
alternative resources, and struggle to stay afloat while the most vile, vapid,
listless music gets multi-million dollar record deals and all the airplay.
Part III - Beseeched
I asked a few people well-versed in the loophole world of alternative country
what their opinions were on why and how mainstream country has become so dire.
Jon Langford, who has played with the Mekons, the Waco Brothers and the Pine Valley
Cosmonauts - all ensembles who have delved into the essence of country music -
put it simply: " Neglect, greed, indifference-take your pick " He also
says that he has a feeling that "Interesting music is only made out on the frontiers
- sometimes it storms into town and has a string of hits, gets copied and assimilated
etc. Your observant industry guy knows this pattern now and we can see plenty
of manufactured, controlled rebellion dominating the youth market." He sees the
decline as due to America's corporate monopolizing - nothing faintly unsalable
has a chance to get heard. He says "Now the lid is on tight and the best talent
from the fringes who deserve a moment in the spotlight are denied this by cynical
corporate biz freaks who might as well be selling underwear down the open market."
This man's been in the music business for 25 years, he knows whereof he speaks.
Jeb Bonansinga, singer and guitarist for the Riptones, feels that country music
radio shoulders a big deal of the blame. He notes that radio is a commercial endeavor
and isn't there to promote good music. "They are always going to defer to the
safest, most inoffensive, bland music." He also thinks the decline of live music
has aided the demise of quality in country. Because of all the broadcast technology,
people go to see live music less and less; this promotes a decline of the sound.
He also thinks that country music has always had an inferiority complex because
of its clover-kicker image and when, around the late 50's, the opportunity to
spruce up their image with slick production value and more urbane influence cropped
up, many jumped on the bandwagon. But this eventually paved the way for people
like Garth Brooks, Sylvia and Shania Twain to become mega-stars. The music became
sterilized and " gained respect from the populace, but lost a piece of its
rural, working man roots."
Currently, Chicago is one of the hotbeds of non-corporate country. It makes
sense - Chicago, and other Midwestern cities, were magnets for the down-and-out
Southerners who were looking for better jobs during the Depression; many outstanding
blues and country musicians and fans found their way to Chicago. Shows like Chicago's
WLS Barndance were popular throughout the Midwest. Serving as a non-Nashville
option, as Austin, TX. and Bakersfield, CA. have, Chicago's seen clubs like Schubas,
the Hideout and the Abby Pub catering to and coinciding with a burgeoning alternative
country scene. Bloodshot records (bloodshotrecords.com)
provides a spiritual and physical center for this scene-recording many sterling
alternative country bands and serving as a focal point for practitioners and listeners
alike. Their artists are impressive and diverse, and they are all joined by the
common thread of being exceptional. You can see why the level of quality is so
high - Rob Miller, co-owner of Bloodshot, says " I could not promote music I do
not love passionately." It seems a simple statement, but how many mainstream music
executives could sincerely say it? Bloodshot is close-knit, sincere and focused
on quality (as opposed to $$$), therefore every record is a gem, every band on
the label is worth seeing. Unfortunately, the flip side of going the alternative
route is that it's a struggle. I asked Rob if he felt satisfied with the position
he and his label are in and he honestly answered "I feel satisfied that we are
in business still. I say that not to be glib, but this is a tough racket." He
makes it clear that although he'd like more acceptance, more airplay and more
financial gain for his artists, it's not worth compromising their standards to
achieve that. I asked Rob if he could foresee a time when the internet and self-promotion
would get enough of a foothold to eliminate the need for the corporate middle
men: "Not for a long time. There will always be a need for the clout to get stuff
into the mainstream consciousness. The music racket is not a meritocracy, and
the people with lots of money and lots of power will always be able to keep their
artists in the forefront of media." But perhaps with labels like Bloodshot- small
scale, manageable, sincere- more quality bands will get a chance to be recorded
and heard. The problem is, though, that even though a record gets made, it's not
necessarily going to be heard. It's dizzying to ponder a method to reinstate quality
country music in its rightful position. The vapid drivel that passes for "country"
maintains its dominance while the good stuff is tucked away in hidden corners.
The general public is usually consistent - I don't believe that people had better
taste 60 or 70 years ago, yet the quality of mainstream country was far superior
at that time. I believe, rather, that the strain of commerce has caused most of
the decline. We live in a vastly different world today from 100 years ago - there
is not much wilderness left, not many pockets of people living in remote areas,
untouched by technology and the industrial culture. The situation could only be
just right once for the genesis of our American music - a time when cultures came
together, the ability to record sound was invented, when the climate was just
right for the birth of a particular kind of music. Unfortunately, this perfect
climate morphed into something dark, greedy, diffused, and utterly predictable.
When one grows accustomed to mediocrity, it seems acceptable - especially when
no other options are known.
Put the word in the street: there is still a good country sound, there are
still those who believe that good music transcends all monetary influence. Around
the corner, in the street (literally, I discovered one of my favorite bands, Twang
Bang, playing in the street. They evoke Carl Perkins, the Hoosier Hot Shots and
They Might Be Giants all at once), on college and public radio, at South By Southwest
(the growing, spectacular music conference in Austin), at small clubs and bars-where
ever good music is played, go SEE it, pay for it, demand it. Like Jon Langford
points out, the suits in the music industry are dense about a lot of things, but
not about supply and demand; if we stop accepting crap music and only settle for
the best, that is what we will get. Of course, some people do just have bad taste-how
else can you explain the popularity of Michael Bolton? But I think it's possible
to reclaim the type of fans that danced to Bob Wills, hummed along to Bill Monroe
and boogied to the Maddox Brothers and Rose. When the standard is raised, the
bands that deserve to make a decent living off of their talents will flourish,
and no-talent hacks who can't play, write or sing will be the ones having to look
for work as barbers and waitresses. Until then, give thanks to the hearty souls
who continue to embrace the soul of country music, in spite of diminishing financial
returns. The tide can be turned, and the success of bands like Uncle Tupelo, the
Old 97's, Lucinda Williams, Dwight Yoakam, the Bottle Rockets and others proves
that it is possible that logic can prevail and the best music will be supported
and heard.
Resources:
No Depression, a bimonthly magazine
covering alternative country, is a good source of information and resources.