Country Crooners

Another article that has graced the pages of AQE—an exploration of missed opportunities instigated by a concert I didn't get to attend—approached the topic of my less-than-impressed opinion towards modern country music. Here, an explanation. 

Country music in the 1950s, even up through the 1980s, has had such an overarchingly pure and insightful message that opposes the self-important, wake-up-and-drink-and-meet-skimpy-girls-and-crass-guys-then-drink-again tunes that tackle the ears and eyes of this generation's listeners. There's a lack of honesty and eloquence in today's mass-produced albums that find their way to the Grammys and the Opry; a travesty if you ask this Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Vince Gill and Alan Jackson-loving lady. 

That's not to say vintage country music doesn't have its fare share of tacky, laughable tunes (I'm looking at you Bobby Bare and David Frizzell), but I think what excuses them away is current poetic nostalgia for times past that can't be captured by today's industry leaders. The times they have a'changed so much since the days of Waylon Jennings and Dolly Parton and the decades those artists lived through. My parents wisely decided on the middle name 'Cynical' for me, but I have little to no faith that people like Blake Shelton and Carrie Underwood will ever be able to capture the beautiful qualities that produced the golden sounds of classic country. 

The difference is unavoidably generational. Kids these days (said the twenty-three-year-old) consider Garth Brooks and George Strait the "classics" because that's what was around when they were growing up: artists their parents were fans of, which I won't discredit. When I was young, my mom played artists like John Michael Montgomery and Brooks & Dunn around the house, which I grew to love as a child. But is it another quality of post-millenials and Generation Z—laziness—that's causing them to settle for 2014's substandard country music because they can't be bothered to research who and what came before? 

My fondness and possible respect for Frankie Ballard was an accident. "Young & Crazy" pulled me out of a particularly rough patch of melancholy with the acceptably wild and wise line, "How am I ever gonna get to be old and wise If I ain't ever young and crazy?" I'm not saying the man can do no wrong—I mean, "Don't Tell Mama I Was Drinking" exists, which is all kinds of just no—and I'll admit, the fact that he's the easiest ever on the eyes helps his cause. It's not my new favorite song or anything. I don't even own his album. Look at me, trying to excuse away the very thing I was justifying at the beginning of this paragraph. I'm not going to force an explanation of why I like what I like: it's just what I like.

The bottom line is that country music can never be what it once was. I can't write off every artist or future song that will come out of Georgia or Tennessee, but that spark of truth, that quality of kindness that you can hear in so many songs of the greats feels as far away from today's music as New York is from Nashville. The raw quality and clear truths you can hear when you listen to them is gone from current works. The words of sincere wisdom once imparted have been replaced by simply goofy phrases like "throwing back pretty pink lemonade shooters" and "my eyebrows ain't plucked, there's a gun in my truck..."

I mean.

It is for this reason I'll continue to avoid the radio stations that bellow whatever noise Miranda Lambert and Luke Bryan have recently come up with, because country music—to put it into cliche, as any modern-day country jam would resort to—has shot to hell in a handbasket, and the heros that could save it are long gone.

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If You're Curious...

And in need of a good laugh or an eyeroll, some classic hilarity below.

All My Exes Live In Texas - George Strait

The Mermaid Song - Bobby Bare

Elvira - Oak Ridge Boys

If I Said You Have A Beautiful Body, Would You Hold It Against Me - The Bellamy Brothers

Gonna Hire A Wino - David Frizzell

It's Hard To Be Humble - Mac Davis