Country music is finally sounding like
country music again
By Chris Hansen Orf, Tribune
January 30, 2005 Like many native or
nearnative Arizonans, I grew up with the sounds of Merle Haggard,
Johnny Cash and George Jones coming out of my dad’s crummy AM
radio.
Back then, I would never admit to my
punk-rocker friends that — after catching The Specials on the old
"Saturday Night Live" ripoff "Fridays" — I would tune in with my
family to watch Buck Owens and Roy Clark pick and grin on "Hee Haw"
the very next night.
It was all just music to me.
When I heard Dwight Yoakam in 1986, I really got the country
bug. I thought it was very punk rock in its own way, and I came to
appreciate Cash, Jones and Merle Haggard as the punks of their
generation. Punks with pedal steel players in their bands.
I
took the next step by tuning into country radio once in a while,
going back and forth from KNIX (102.5 FM) to The Key, a forerunner
of KEDJ (103.9 FM), where I could listen to my beloved punk music.
Unfortunately, the country music I heard on the radio bore
little resemblance to the old school honky-tonkers I loved. Where
were the fiddles? What were synthesizers doing in country music?
Then, in 1989, three debut records got the country music
genre out of its rut: Garth Brooks’ self-titled disc, Clint Black’s
"Killin’ Time" and Alan Jackson’s "Here in the Real World."
All three records were unabashed honky-tonk, creating a
movement called "New Traditionalist" country.
I started
digging country music again.
But Garth Brooks, who listed
Billy Joel and Journey as influences, broke out big with a
rock-influenced stage show and music to match. Brooks sold nearly
100 million albums in a decade, routinely debuting at No. 1 on both
the pop and country charts.
Suddenly, so-called "hat acts"
inspired by Brooks dispensed with the fiddles, added rocking guitar
solos. And I was hating country music again.
Sure, George
Strait was still great. Alan Jackson was still great. But I didn’t
have the patience to sit through 20 terrible tunes masquerading as
country songs to get the real dope.
By the late ’90s, things
had gotten even worse. Shania Twain — with her synthesized
faux-fiddle tracks and glossy backing vocals — was the rage. I
almost gave up.
But I kept holding out for country music’s
redemption, for a day when twin fiddles and pedal steel again
reigned supreme in Nashville.
Then, in 2004, Gretchen
Wilson’s "Redneck Woman" came out of my car radio and made sweet
love to jaded ears. I got the album. I loved the whole thing.
I wasn’t alone in my joy. Wilson’s "Here for the Party" has
gone triple platinum, which must be a real kick in the butt for the
suits in Nashville who believed that to sell a bunch of records, it
had to appeal to pop audiences, a la Twain and Faith Hill.
Less than a year later, pedal steels and fiddles are all
over the Billboard country chart.
Sure, pop boy band Rascal
Flatts is still there, masquerading as country singers, and
atrocious light popsters Lonestar also are present, but take a
listen to Brad Paisley, Jackson, Darryl Worley and former crossover
offender Tim McGraw.
Wilson’s current hit, "When I Think
About Cheatin’," just may be the best country song mainstream radio
has embraced in years.
Twain’s and Hill’s last records were
disappointments, both musically and in the sales column, as was
Garth Brooks’ last record before his self-imposed exile.
As
a longtime fan of country music, I hope the suits in Nashville are
listening.
