July 2006

Somebody keeps killing Alt Country...

Before I lay my latest Top 100 on you, I wanted to get his off my chest.

Where did Country Music go?

If you're one of those people who believes that you're listening to Country Music when you turn on KEEY, K102, America's worst Country Station, then don't read any further. It has always been my chief premise that 90% of what's played on that station is not Country Music; it's jingles designed to sell tampons. So, if you disagree with me on that theory, everything that follows will either be wrong or an insult to your concept of your own intelligence.

To answer my own question, I guess I need to figure out when Country went wherever it went. I think Alabama had a lot to do with it, somewhere around 1980. I don't think it was any one song, group, album or year...rather, I think the idea of the band Alabama and who they appealed to started a kind of wave that led to the cookie cutter environment you have in Nashville now.

In my mind there's a continuum of what I call Country, starting with Jimmie Rodgers going to Hank Williams going to Buck Owens and Johnny Cash going to the genesis of Country Rock in LA (not necessarily the whole scene) going to the Outlaws and then Alabama came along and everything went to shit. Along the way a bunch of important writers moved to Nashville to prop up the whole Countrypolitan shit that Billy Sherrill and Chet Atkins produced; these writers would later create the backend authenticity that spurred the Outlaws and especially a lot of today's "alt country" acts.

The douche jingles they play on KEEY, K102, America's worst Country Station, are some kind of tortured mixture of Billy Joel, Elton John, John Mellenkcamp and Def Leppard. It's pop music, with smalltown language and 80's hair band hair, except a lot of the peacocks are bald, so they wear some sort of hat instead. That's probably not fair to Joel or John or even Mellenkcamp...they had no idea their sounds and schticks would get co-opted this way. And, let's not engage in the argument that what's going on is some kind of organic product of musical influence. A bunch of greedy bastards who don't know a G chord from a G-string have sat around in a number of different rooms, wringing their hands and formulating combinations of sight and sound and theme to produce this shit. "What we need is John Mellenkcamp in a cowboy hat singing a "Tiny Dancer" type song without all the symbolism and metaphor, Def Leppard loud..." Ladies, I give you Kenny Chesney.

So where did Country go when Alabama unwittingly helped to run it underground?

I think it's hard to argue against Austin, Texas as the center of authenticity for Country Music since 1980 or so. I don't want that to sound like some sort of musically arrogant statement. Rather, I think its station as a gathering point for live performance and alternate recording in the face of mainstream rejection made it a very natural rebel base. Certainly Nashville housed its own rebellions (Jason & the Scorchers), and a number of towns worked as jumping off points for the twang: Athens, Georgia, Minneapolis, Chicago, St. Louis, Dallas, Denver, etc.

But who held on to Country, who preserved it for us, in the face of the cynical and insulting commercialism of Nashville? I think it's important with this argument to get the truck rally replies out of the way, early. Everyone has their favorite Country performer, and, many of the classic, authentic artists are still alive and recording and touring, so I'm not going to include them in this piece. The focus of this thought revolves around the people involved, but is more centered on the type of music made. Johnny Cash's American Recordings are real landmarks of Country Music, especially the first two. And, Cash simply cannot be impugned for his body of work: it's thoughtful, honest, tender, and mean, all at the same time. But, in the context of this idea, it's important because it brought together a man sliding sideways into his grave with a man of almost futuristic musical sensibilities. The mixture of Cash and Rubin and their seemingly opposite musical backgrounds is a terribly important road stop along this highway.

The spectrum, in my head, swims along something like this: EmmyLou Harris saved Country...and in parallel to her, men like Jason Ringenberg, Alejandro Escovedo, Ray Wylie Hubbard, and Robert Earl Keen kind of dragged it through the punk and new wave years, up to the point where the congruent "alt country" / grunge explosion took over with the Jayhawks, Uncle Tupelo, Freakwater, BR5-49 and others. Of course, what you have with all of this is music that doesn't exactly sound like traditional Country absent all context. However, I think I demonstrated repeatedly on my defunct radio program that you can play much of this music in a string with what is regarded as Classic Country, and come away with something you can load your dog into your truck with your shotgun in your hand and feel good about it.

The inbox of my email is full of articles sent to me by Al Kunz about the death of alt country. But, the ugly little truth in all of this is that alt country has always been real Country. It's where Country went, when Nashville went cash register. If you don't think that "Sister Cry" is a Country song, a real Country song, a pure Country song, you're ignoring about 50 years of thematic and musical development. Songs like "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" and "Honkytonkbadonkadonk" are sold as fun, poppy, little throwaway numbers, designed to appeal to the neon lit imp in all of us; but they're really the products of a very sinister and cynical Madison Avenue approach to music...they're pretty pictures that anesthetize us against certain realities.

I'll be the LAST person to say that all music has to be serious. What I'm arguing is that it has to be music...it has to come from someone, somewhere, and be about something, even the fun songs. Todd Snider's "Iron Mike's Last Request" is an example of a song full of ironic subject matter, that has an extra layer silliness to it because its author's voice is that of the stoner reject sitting around his house dreaming about palling around with Tyson. Whatever IT is, there's something behind that song. "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" is just hollow bullshit peddled by a two-bit giggolo in comparison.

It's important that I end this thought by saying everyone leading up to this, and everyone after, who writes an article about how "alt country" is dead, is a fucking moron. The point is not that alt country is dead, the point is that Mainstream Country, which these mainstream hack writers constantly compare alt country to, is a walking zombie of shallow musical and artistic value, that has been a commercial juggernaut due to the overwhelming force brought to it by increasingly jaded and greedy business and marketing types. The true Country music of alt country never died, it's just in the process of actual artistic flux and influence that cannot be easily quantified or qualified, and certainly can't be sold at Wal-Mart for 12.99 a piece in a greatest hits collection.

Posted by Jack Sparks at July 27, 2006 11:53 AM | Comments (5)

Thoughts on voting and the 2006 Country Music Association Awards

A little over 63 million votes were cast for the American Idol final, and a little over 110 million votes were cast for the Presidency of the United States in 2004. That doesn't say a whole lot, no matter how political or a-political you are. What does say a lot is that what "you" were voting for, when you voted for Taylor Hicks, was a Ford commercial. You see, American Idol has never been about finding a music star; it has ALWAYS been about finding someone who can sell rubber dildos during the evening news and make them look like pot holders. Taylor's next big hit will feature him awkwardly dancing in front of a Play Station® at BestBuy® singing something subliminal like "fuck the postman."

The central idea that Nashville can't grasp is that Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver, is a better country singer than Kenny Chesney. His voice and songwriting embody a more honest and authentic American spirit and search for rural hope among urban lies.

The central idea that Nashville can't grasp is that "Sober," by Tool, with it's alternately tuned Low E to a D guitar, howls of booze-soaked regret, and screaming distorted six string solo that's just this side of being a pedal steel wail, is an infinitely better Country Song than the god (little G) awful "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy."

What scared the shit out of Nashville was that, in 1981, when the Commodores released Love Songs, and the single, "Sail On," a black singer songwriter had captured the soul of country more crisply and cleanly than any of the bullshit they had in the pipe with Alabama and the mountain of garbage that was about to follow.

From : Country Music Association
Sent : Wednesday, June 28, 2006 11:40 AM
To :
Subject : Official 2006 CMA Awards Nomination Ballot

Dear Jack Sparks:

This is your official notification for the 2006 CMA Awards Nomination Ballot. Polls are now open and you may submit your ballot using the secure Internet voting system. Ballots are encrypted immediately upon receipt and your vote will be completely confidential.

To vote:
1. Have your CMA Member Number ready. (This was e-mailed to you yesterday. If you have misplaced your Member Number, you may call the CMA Office at 555-555-5555.)
2. Your unique PIN Number is XXXXXXXXXX
3. Click on this link: https://www.bullshitandcrap.com and enter your CMA Member Number and the PIN Number provided above.

If the link above does not automatically connect you to the voting site, open your web browser, then copy and paste this link into the address line https://www.escargotisreallysnails.com/2006. If you have any problems, please contact Election Services Corporation at someaddress@crooksrus.com or by phone at (866) 555-5555. (International callers dial 516-555-5555.)

Please remember that you, and only you, will be entitled to vote. If this email is forwarded to someone else, your PIN will not be reactivated. Voting Regulations are listed on the voting website. Failure to follow these rules can result in disqualification of your entire ballot.

Polls will close precisely at 5:00 PM/CDT on July 14, 2006

And the nominees are...

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR
Alejandro Escovedo--The guy's got a crap liver and he's been to the cities twice in the last year. On top of everything else, when he's on his game, and he has purposefully put himself back on his game for these performances, he'll break your fucking heart. If you hear him do "I was drunk," live, you finally get it that he never actually calls out "her" name during the song. It's a very poignant moment in live performance that I've rarely witnessed. Gives me the chills.

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR
Tie - Tift Merritt and Jenny Lewis--Tift released an album's worth of live performances of her latest best songs. Jenny Lewis and her band released a record called Rabbit Fur Coat. They're the female co-vocalists of the year for different reasons: Tift for the uplifting quality of her record, Jenny for the dark murder of hers.

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR
Ryan Adams--This is a no brainer for me. See below.

HORIZON AWARD
Charlie Parr--Who knows who's the best "new" thing out there? Why not pick somebody from my own backyard? Charlie's record, Rooster on Eclectone Records is deep fried in chicken fat, salted with cigarette ash, and washed down with the Hamm's from dirty taps in an old St. Paul bar. You want to get some grease on your fingers and some fear in your soul? Go get a copy.

VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR
The Little Willies--I listened to their self-titled record once all the way through, then I went back and played the song "Roll On" over and over again about 50 times. You see, she's Ravi Shankar's daughter, and she likes to hang out with Willie Nelson. It all makes sense. Their rendition of "Nightlife" proves that it's a song about fucking sung by people who like to fuck, for people who like to fuck.

VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR
Brooks & Dunn, they're going to win it anyway...Wham! always wins. I think it bears repeating that Nashville is full of duos where one guy wears a cowboy hat, and the other is kinda "kooky." Typically, one of them is a good singer, and the other is a passable musician of some sort. One smiles all the time, and the other broods. Blah blah blah. If they loaded all of these acts on an old milk cart and shoved it off of a very high cliff, NONE of us would be worse off. Was "Boot Scootin' Boogie" really central to our way of life in this country?

SINGLE OF THE YEAR
(Award goes to artist and producer) This assumes radio airplay, which is as phoney as the $3 bills Mick Anselmo hands out at Utica on Christmas Eve.

MUSICIAN OF THE YEAR
Jerry Douglas the Dobro Player in Union Station. Just accept it. He's better than everybody at everything.

ALBUM OF THE YEAR
Jacksonville City Nights--Eat shit Nashville. Look, the guy's got a lot of baggage, but this whole disk is a non-steroidal musical homerun. He coulda, shoulda, and woulda been the Wunderkind of Country if he gave a shit. Some might say he was ripping off Gram Parsons right after he ripped off Paul Westerberg; but, for me at least, that's exactly what he SHOULD have done. Because where Country IS, and where it oughta BE right now is somewhere between Westerberg and Parsons, and far far away from Honky Tonk fuckin' Badonkadonk.

MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR
(Award goes to artist and director) Who cares? Videos are what screwed everything up in the first place. Kenny Chesney is 5'2" tall and bald, but music videos make him look like he's the 6 foot tall big dicked regular on the fist fuck all star team. I'll go out on a limb and say whoever wins this category is the phoniest of the phoney bastards in Nashville today.

MUSICAL EVENT OF THE YEAR
Ryan Adams and Norah Jones on "Dear John" on Jacksonville City Nights--If you don't get the creeps listening to this song, you can't get the creeps.

SONG OF THE YEAR
(Award goes to songwriter and primary publisher) Tie, Roll On--The Little Willies, Cowgirl Hall of Fame--Joe West
My gal and her friends constantly talk about their no penalty star sandwich. The two celebrities you get to roll around with in a 3some with no penalties if the situation presents itself to you. My musical metaphorical star sandwich consists of Norah Jones and Kelly Willis singing "Roll On" and "They're Blind" while running their fingers through my hair on a warm summer day. If you need to excuse yourself to throw up now, be my guest. I'm just sayin.
If you don't have a copy of The Human Cannonball, by Joe West, you probably don't live in the extreme southwest corner of Colorado somewhere, eating spit roasted rabbits stuffed with homegrown jalapeno peppers. "Cowgirl Hall of Fame," should have been the theme song to the movie Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, even though there's a song of the same title sung by everybody including EmmyLou Harris.

I swear to God the Top 100 is coming. I'm mulling a revolutionary theory on where country went right now, and I gotta let it simmer in the sweltering heat a little bit. Chew on this in the meantime.

Posted by Jack Sparks at July 12, 2006 11:56 PM | Comments (10)

« June 2006 | Main | August 2006 »