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Commentary

The Problem With the Mainstream Media Coverage of Country Music

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Well, Kacey Musgrave’s new album has certainly caused a stir.

At this point, I’m sure many of you are tired of the rash of strong, divisive opinions surrounding this project. Was she uniting fans through genre-defying music, or selling out and forsaking sound and substance? Is the album even country, and what is “real country” these days anyway? I’ve already given my thoughts on her album, as well as discussed the entire genre debate in detail with Zack of The Musical divide, and after this, I promise I’ll just shut up and let you all come to your own conclusions about it all. But this portrayal of Golden Hour by mainstream media who are largely ignorant of the country genre as the album of the year, or some forward-thinking opus that’s “so gutsy it’s not even country” has got to be addressed.

It’s not that these non-country writers shouldn’t cover country music; in fact, the country genre gets ignored too much by the mainstream media and is often given only a cursory glance. And it’s not even that media members who are crowning Kacey Musgraves as some sort of queen of country are necessarily writing a false narrative; maybe they believe the things they write, and probably they do, given the lack of knowledge of other artists who are pushing the genre forward right along with Musgraves. And notice I said “right along with,” as opposed to “better than,” because Courtney Marie Andrews and Lindi Ortega and others aren’t doing more for the genre than Kacey Musgraves; rather, they’re all doing it in different ways, and all of it’s working very well. So even though I have a serious problem with the way the mainstream media is praising this album, I don’t think the answer is to pit other artists against each other.

The problem, though, is the underlying message conveyed by these headlines and by these narratives. Kacey’s country album is “so gutsy it’s not even country,” held up as a record that’s so forward-thinking that it’s left the restrictive, claustrophobic nature of country music behind. Musgraves meant to unite with this album and not to divide; she meant to expand her sound and bring country music to listeners who might not otherwise know the genre. She didn’t make this album to cast the bonds of country away, and that’s how it’s being portrayed by some of the media.

This is disrespectful to country as a genre, and this isn’t about traditional versus contemporary, it’s about the fact that it’s considered brave and risk-taking to abandon country altogether. It’s viewed as an inferior art form sonically, and more than that, it’s held up by many as the sound track to backward rural American life. It’s looked down on as the music of rednecks, of racists, of a backward and simple people who need to be brought into the modern world. Obviously, politics drive some of that narrative, and country purists sometimes don’t help the perceptions by putting their own restrictive limits on things, as we discussed in the collaboration, but these are both topics that can wait for another day. The point is, that putting words like “gutsy” and “country” in opposition to one another, as if country can’t earn this distinction on its own merit, is dangerous and derisive to the music we all love.

Does that mean these writers should stop covering country music? absolutely not; rather, it means they should broaden their perspectives and consider other artists. It’s fine to start with big names like Musgraves, and it’s fine if you don’t care for Lindi Ortega’s or Courtney Marie Andrews’ albums as much, but covering them only adds more context and knowledge of the genre. I can write a piece about a pop album; I can even recommend it and say I enjoyed it. But I can’t write with the same expertise and authority of a pop critic, and it’s disrespectful to the art to pretend that I know what I’m talking about if I’ve only listened to three pop records that year. This is the problem with mainstream critics, not that they shouldn’t write about or cover country, but that it should be considered an equal with the other genres of music, an art form to be explored and loved right beside pop or rock or rap. And yet it gets overlooked, except when projects like this come out. And then, instead of letting it be a window to the sounds and stories of country music, they craft narratives around it framing it a some sort of chain-breaking moment for Kacey Musgraves. Let them embrace country music right along with the rest of us, and then if they want to assign all these achievements to Kacey, I will respect their opinions and understand that their views come from a knowledge of the genre and a passion for the music.

That said, it’s not the ignorance of country music which ultimately makes their narrative a problem, it’s that their narrative comes from a place of condescension, a place where the music we love is meant to be cast aside in favor of progressive ideals and sounds. And in framing their opinions this way, they’ve only done a disservice to Kacey Musgraves and Golden Hour, because this is a personal album, meant to bridge gaps, to unite rather than divide, and to open herself up to the world rather than point fingers at judgmental people. Regardless of how you feel about it, it’s meant to bring more people to country music, not to turn them away, and it’s a shame that the media circus surrounding this may ultimately have that effect.

Reviews

Album Review: Red Shahan–Culberson County

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Rating: 8/10

As was ironically just mentioned on this platform a few days ago, I was blessed with the opportunity in college to sing in a traveling band. This came up in a recent post because the director was Vince Gill’s guitar teacher–but he was also the youngest member of Bob Wills’ Texas Playboys, and if you talked to the man for more than five minutes, he’d surely tell you about it. He considered it his finest accomplishment, and we all had to learn some Bob Wills songs in our time because he used his connections to take us out to the Texas panhandle every year to a little town called Turkey, the hometown of Wills where we performed in a dance hall with a crumbling old stage that the Texas Playboys had played on in their day.

The Turkey, Texas, trip was one we all dreaded. For a weekend, we would be cut off from society, seemingly suspended in 1927. We were isolated from everything, and the stillness was jarring. You didn’t even here cars on the street in that town, just coyotes and church bells. Cell reception was nonexistent; you told your family where you were going and didn’t contact them again for 48 hours, until you got back across the Oklahoma border to civilization. I can still remember the horrified reaction of a friend from Rhode Island, already having enough of a culture shock from her move to our little college town of Chickasha, Oklahoma, when she realized her phone wouldn’t work in West Texas at all. It seemed like an ugly, desolate place hopelessly trapped inside the past, and with nothing to do one afternoon, either in the town or on our devices, we all sat on the porch of the dilapidated Turkey Hotel and bonded, making up a horror story we dubbed the “Turkey Texas Tragedy,” detailing how and in which order each of us would be murdered out here in this godforsaken wilderness.

Who would be inspired by such a place to make a record? And yet, it’s the desolation and emptiness of West Texas that Red Shahan chooses to bring to life here on this album, and not only that, he manages to capture the beauty in the place as well. You hear a song like the title track, named for a county in West Texas with a population barely over 2,000, and you understand why Shahan calls for us to “keep the lonely places lonely” and away from “anyone who doesn’t understand.” Even if you’re not from West Texas, it’s a relatable sentiment, as highways replace back roads, and rural communities grow into towns. The wide open spaces in our country and the world are becoming extinct, and Red Shahan laments this with a heartbreak that comes to life with the grit in his voice and will be relatable to many. “How They Lie” also captures this, as he sings of people losing their land to the government, being lied to about their intentions to take everything for which these people have worked so hard.

But more than the lyrics, it’s the sound that paints a picture of the isolated corners of West Texas and beyond. It’s the reverb that’s used to wonderful effect throughout this album to create an ever-present echo, as if this whole record were made in a canyon under the endless Texas sky. It’s the reverb throughout it all which sets the mood and serves as the backdrop, but the sonic influences are varied. We have rockers like the excellent openers “Waterbill” and “Enemy,” serving to kick off this album in fine fashion. “Waterbill” is the best opener I’ve heard so far this year, and with a line like “you ain’t livin’ unless you’re livin’ life broke,” it’s impossible not to enjoy this. “Enemy” goes for a darker, heavier atmosphere, an appropriate choice since this song deals with the dark side of small-town life–interesting to note that both red shahan and Ashley McBryde have just released songs referencing meth, an occurrence which has been surprisingly rare in the country genre given its prevalence in rural communities like this. And speaking of country, if you thought this album was purely a rock effort, take a listen to “Roses” and “How They Lie,” each blending country elements with that spacey rock production to create something exciting and forward-thinking. The title track does an excellent job of blending acoustic and electric guitar in a way that is becoming a signature sound for Red Shahan. I’d also argue that even when the sound leans heavily toward the rock end of the spectrum, much of this is more concerned with its lyrical content than most rock music, a characteristic certainly common to the country genre. Then, when you thought you had Red Shahan completely figured out sonically, he throws “Try” in at the end and displays a bluesy, soulful influence. Meanwhile, through all this, there’s that desolate, empty, West Texas backdrop behind everything to perfectly encapsulate the sound of that region.

While my criticisms for this album are few and far between, I will say that the lyrics are certainly weak in places. “6 Feet” sounds very cool, but it’s just not developed enough lyrically to really stand out. And “Revolution” is admittedly a really fun track, one you probably shouldn’t try to decipher beyond the surface anyway, but it’s hard not to point out it ultimately says nothing lyrically, especially when you understand that Red Shahan gave us songs like “Waterbill” and “Someone Someday,” both of which are lively and upbeat but which contain smart, substantive songwriting as well. Shahan can also sound a bit flat vocally at times, but after hearing the raw power with which he navigates and slays “Try,” I think that’s more of a style thing than a vocal issue. For example, the chorus of “Culberson County” is really flat in places, but this also serves to add dissonance and speak to the harsh beauty of the land.

This album just gets better and better with every listen. There’s something here for everyone, from the more country-sounding stuff like “Roses” to the intense rock of “Enemy” and everything in between. It’s raw and gritty in its sound and sometimes harsh in its message, a reflection of the place and people which inspired this record. Maybe we can’t agree on whether Kacey Musgraves or Ashley McBryde gave us the better mainstream album Friday, but we should all be able to come together in agreement of the fact that Red Shahan is a badass, and that this is a great, genre-bending, forward-thinking record. Don’t let it be one you overlook.

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Reviews

Album Review: Lindi Ortega–Liberty

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Rating: 9/10

If Lindi Ortega has done nothing else with this record, she’s at least effectively released a case for why Bobby Bones’ idiotic philosophy that artists should only release singles and not albums is complete bullshit. She should get a 12/10 for that alone.

Lindi Ortega has one of those voices that’s made for telling darker stories, for capturing the raw emotions in characters filled with despair and desperation. She’s admitted that some of her material is personal, but she’s also just been blessed with a voice specifically tailored for songs like the haunting “Murder of Crows” or the painful, pleading “Ashes.” Most recently, she gave us an EP that came from the very depths of her soul, written after she nearly gave up on music altogether.

Read: Review: Lindi Ortega- Till the Goin’ Gets Gone EP

If Kacey Musgraves needed to show us more humanity, Lindi Ortega represents the opposite end of the spectrum, wearing her heart painfully on her sleeve for us all to hear. But just as she eventually found hope and a resolve to continue making music, she wants her listeners to find their own hope and joy in life and take something meaningful from her art. So she’s given us the concept album Liberty, the journey of a character coming out of darkness and depression and into the light of hope and life, set with a western backdrop and delivered with a cinematic feel.

And frankly, Liberty is quite a lot to take in. Those who like western themes and sounds will immediately enjoy this for its smoky, dusty atmosphere and references to horses and open skies. The production on this thing is just outstanding, and credit to Ortega for having this vision and seeing it through because country is a lyric-driven genre primarily, and telling part of the story musically is a risk within the format. It’s similar in that sense–and obviously in the sense of the themes–to Marty Stuart’s Way out West. But unlike on that album, the lyrics and underlying story are essential components of Liberty. Lindi Ortega said herself that she wanted listeners to see themselves in this character, and for that reason, the connections here can sometimes be vague–in fact, the vagueness in some of it is the biggest factor holding this album back from a perfect rating here. To that end, my interpretation of this narrator’s journey might be one of several and ultimately differ slightly from yours, but the best way to tell the album’s story and give it a proper review is to take that journey right along with the character Lindi created. The three movements are described as such by Ortega herself;, but the description of individual songs is solely my own.

Darkness and Loss

1. “Through the dust, Pt 1”–Serves as the intro for this whole journey, introducing the dusky, western vibes that permeate this whole album. Minor chords immediately establish that we’re starting this thing in quite a dark place.

2. “Afraid of the Dark”–This is just an introduction to her state of mind. She’s warning everyone around her, and possibly all us listeners as well, “Don’t come any closer to my heart if you’re afraid of the dark.” She comes across here as defiant, accepting that she spreads darkness around her and willing to stand alone, almost daring us to run away from her. The music behind this can only be described as haunting, building into the intense conclusion of the song which almost sounds like the sound track to a horror movie.

3. “You Ain’t Foolin’ Me”–I have to interject that this is just a kickass rock song and one of the standouts of the record, even on its own apart from the narrative. As for the story, this connection is one of the vaguer ones, but I think it’s referring to the people the narrator thinks she can trust but can’t. Deep down, she doesn’t really want to be alone on an island of despair, but she can’t trust anyone, especially not these backstabbing hypocrites who smile to her face and lie behind her back–“you think you’re foolin’ me, but you ain’t.”

4. “Til my Dyin’ Day”–Now we come to a softer, more country moment with lots of steel guitar crying out in the mix. Until now, we’ve seen that she’s angry and defiant and pushing people away, but we haven’t seen why. She has finally let the walls down to reveal the incredible sadness beneath the anger, the pain of the loss of her lover. This also makes the previous track make a bit more sense, as he was the one that was there for her despite everything, and now he’s gone. It also means she could have been lashing out in anger at others before instead of really dealing with this depression, a common response to the loss of a loved one.

5. “Nothing is Impossible”–IN this dreamlike track, she’s gone from resolved to crying till the end of her days to determined to bring him back. She plays his records, wears the dress that he loved, and tries to make everything the way it was before he died. She’s even resorted to bargaining with the devil–“I’d let the devil just take my soul if he’d give me back my man.” She’s reached her lowest point of darkness and despair here, ready to just stop living.

Resurrection

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fO87T44tAY4

6. “Through the Dust, Pt. 2”–We’re on to the second section of the story, but this version of the theme song is punctuated by a gunshot, the shot that is referred to in the next song as the one that metaphorically kills her.

7. “The Comeback Kid”–I hated this song before it was released ahead of the album, and I still hated it through several listens. I finally accepted its position here when I caught the line, “I’m still alive, so I guess I’ll try living instead.” It connects the whole thing; she couldn’t stop living physically, so if she’s going to stay around, she might as well try actually living emotionally. However, she is basically hell-bent on revenge here. She’s not at peace yet, but at least she’s got a reason to wake up in the morning.

8. “Darkness be Gone”–But revenge can only work as a motive for living for so long, and here, she’s relapsing, feeling the pull of the darkness and the devil in the verses calling her to give in. There is some great musical stuff going on here, as she’s making use of the tritone, or the “devil’s tone,” named so because it’s the harshest, most dissonant interval in music and was actually thought at one time to call up the devil, during the verses. IN the choruses, she can hear the angels helping her to resist the devil. It’s also the first time we hear the word “light” on this record, as she’s struggling to fight the darkness for the first time and make her way toward it. This one is a direct reason why you have to understand the concept of this album because on its own, it’s honestly just weird, but here, it’s a transition point for the entire thing.

9. “Forever Blue”–Now our heroine has made a conscious decision to follow the light and turn away from the darkness and past behind her. Using the western metaphors, she’s vowing to ride her horse out of the storm and focus on the light. Unlike the last one, this song works well on its own and serves as a standout here.

10. “In the Clear”–Not much to say about this track, and it’s one where the writing is rather weak, but basically, it sees her finally at peace and content, having put the past firmly behind her. She and her horse, it seems, have finally come to a place of rest.

11. “Pablo”–Even though she’s found peace of mind, however, she’s still alone. That all changes when Pablo arrives with a guitar on his back. The Latin influences and Spanish chorus really add to this track. It often takes loving yourself first in order to truly be able to love another, and that’s why she’s now ready for this kind of commitment. I had several theories on why, after the last two peaceful tracks, this one is dark again, with its minor chords and more intense production. It seems on the surface that she’d be happy now that she has him, but the song also refers to him having a “broken, tortured soul” and speaking to her past pain through his music. It makes sense, in the same way in which people who have come out of abusive relationships might be fine within themselves but then meeting someone new triggers the old memories and pain. Sometimes it takes working through this pain, or in her case, the pain of loss, to truly heal, and that’s ultimately what I think this song was going for.

12. “Lovers in Love”–Probably the most country for all you traditionalists, with some really cool harmonica. And what a happy track, describing the difference between lovers who walk away and “lovers in love,” as Lindi calls them, who stand by each other through thick and thin, no matter what the cost. One would assume our narrator has found this kind of lasting love with Pablo and is now truly happy.

Freedom

13. “Through the dust, Pt 3”–The intro again, this time coming to us in a peaceful, tranquil form with prominent piano.

14. “Liberty”–The title track, once again exploring those Latin influences, and seeing her and her lover finally free from their past. You can see why this record is so named because reaching this liberty is the ultimate end to the character’s journey.

15. “Gracias a la Vida”–Her final benediction, a song of thanks for all the little things in life, from her eyesight to her hearing to the way she can see her beloved in the crowd. It’s a cover, but a brilliant choice of one, as Ortega sings of both joy and sadness, described in the song as the two elements of her song that she shares with everyone, and both themes that run through this entire record. With this track, she concludes the story well and also adds more of that Latin influence which marked the album.

Overall

This concept is a bit vague at times, but mostly, it is played out really well over the course of the album. The different influences, from country to rock to Latin, really gave this a nice variety, and the western atmosphere in the production serves as a worthy backdrop. Occasionally, the writing in the individual songs is weak, although the connections between the tracks are often stronger in these songs. Sometimes, Lindi Ortega is a little flat vocally, and I do wish she’d had more moments where all her raw power, so common on earlier releases, could have been unleashed. These are both minor criticisms, but my biggest problem is the vagueness that occasionally exists in the underlying story. It keeps this album from being a ten because in trying to relate to more people, Ortega made the concept too broad in a couple places. Still, these are criticisms made by virtue of the standard to which I hold Lindi Ortega, as well as the high bar this album sets for her. Basically, I’m saying the only problem with this great record is that it had the potential to be even better. That said, this is the best album I’ve heard so far in 2018. Go give it a listen.

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Collaborations

The “Real Country” debate and Other Musings: a Collaboration with the Musical divide

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So I was having a discussion on Twitter today with Zack of The Musical Divide about Kacey Musgraves’ new album and all the mixed reactions to it. It seems to be a completely polarizing release, and that’s sparked the age-old debate about “real country,” in this case whether or not Musgraves is tired of the genre. We agreed that she’s not, and although not traditional, Golden Hour is still a country record, and that people dismissing it immediately for not being country enough aren’t taking the time to really form their own opinions about the music. We decided that we both really had a lot to say about this, so we had a proper discussion and made one of our Twitter musings into a worthwhile, enlightening conversation. You can read that below.

Zack: I’ll pose a question to start this off – what to you defines “country music?”

Megan: I define it by honesty in storytelling, lyrics about real life and real people. I do look for signature sounds like fiddle and pedal steel, but those are secondary for me. Still, if I hear instruments like that, I consider them country elements of a song.

Z: I always thought it was something like that too, but these days, I don’t know. Do you think saying that something isn’t “country” is a worthy critique in and of itself?

M: I think it’s a worthy critique when stuff is sent to country radio for sure. Like, Zac Brown Band’s “Beautiful Drug” can be criticized for not being country because he admitted to it being an EDM song and then sent it to country radio. But I also think it’s becoming a blanket criticism for stuff we don’t like. I think you and I can agree Golden Hour has lots of country to it, but a lot of people are just dismissing it out of hand. It’s fine not to like it, and it’s obviously not traditional, but it’s becoming a really lame excuse to not like something.

Z: I agree. I think it’s a matter of people not really owning up to a full opinion. Saying it’s not country is an easy cop-out, and if that’s why you don’t like it, fine, but tell me how that makes it “bad.” Is the lyricism weak? Are the vocals not there? Albums like Musgraves’ always present the ugliness of this debate, when in reality, Musgraves meant to unite rather than divide.

The thing is with this conversation, there’s material that seems like it’s pretty obvious as to what genre it belongs under such as Sam Hunt or Walker Hayes’ material. However, I think we’re starting to see that card played out *too* much, to the point where the only stuff that can only be counted as “Country” is material that rips directly from the past.

Do you think Country music is restrictive in that regard? Or no?

M: You’re right, I think people have gotten to where they hear something like Golden Hour, and they don’t like it, which is fine. It’s halfway there, forming your own opinion about something. But it’s easy for them to say it’s not country enough instead of really thinking about the music. One comparison I keep coming back to is Starfire by Caitlyn Smith. I mean, would you say that’s country? A lot of these same people love that record, which is again fine, but they call it country pop, and for me, it’s way less country than Golden Hour. I remember even telling you that when it came out, that I felt like it was almost out of my lane completely because it was so pop. To answer your other question, I don’t think country is a restrictive genre–look at Marty Stuart’s Way Out West, for example–but I think purists are making it restrictive and putting unnecessary limits on it. I’d be curious as to your take on that as well since you try to avoid the “real country” argument and embrace a lot of genre-bending stuff.

Z: Would I say Caitlyn Smith’s latest album, Starfire is Country? That’s the million dollar question. Or rather, just one of them. I don’t know the answer to that. I think there’s a way for the songs or albums to not necessarily fit the sounds of the genre and yet still fit within somehow. For example, “This Town Is Killin’ Me” is about her struggles in Nashville, and some of those songs like “East Side Restaurant” and “House Of Cards” are dripping with real, honest emotion.

However, I think comparing which album is “more country” is frankly, pretty stupid. Let’s instead argue which one is better, because thankfully that line were trying to draw with genre can’t possibly be drawn with an opinion. We can only offer a perspective and see what the other side thinks (and vice versa).

It’s hard to answer your second question. Do I think it’s true? Yes, but all I really have to go on are random Internet comments I see on social media or other blogs’ comments sections. I think something like Way Out West is a type of rare album, but it’s also hard to say in that instance whether Stuart is getting a pass for actually making genre-bending music or because he’s simply a legend we respect and wouldn’t dare touch.

It’s amazing though, Country oriented sites will gladly talk about acts like Blackberry Smoke or Whiskey Myers, and on the other end of the spectrum, someone more Pop leaning such as Glen Campbell is viewed as aces with the crowd.

And of course, there’s a huge difference between Pop-Country like Glen Campbell and Pop-Country like Walker Hayes, but who am I to say? That would only be my opinion and nothing more. I have no evidence because that line is so murky.

M: I can’t believe you’ve just written a sentence containing Glen Campbell and Walker Hayes…shouldn’t there be some sort of law against this? You raise a good point, though, that country-oriented sites/blogs/whatever seem to be more accepting of rock influences than of pop ones. It kind of makes sense because rock is musically closer to country, but still, you can make a case that Blackberry Smoke and even Jason Isbell are less country sonically than some of the stuff on Golden Hour, so the disconnect with listeners is interesting. As for which is better, for me personally, I prefer Golden Hour to Starfire even with the killer songwriting on Starfire, and it’s precisely because as a listener, I like stuff like “Love is a Wild Thing,” where you hear modern production with pedal steel. But that’s just me, and it’s not a right or wrong opinion. Similarly, it’s not right or wrong to prefer Starfire. I just don’t think you can actually say you don’t like Golden Hour because it isn’t country and then call Starfire a country pop record because to me, it proves you don’t actually have a complete opinion about why you don’t like Golden Hour. That’s the most important thing about being a music listener, just forming your own opinion and having the intelligence to back it up. Like, I don’t care if you think Walker Hayes is God’s gift to country music if you can actually defend that viewpoint and make me think about why you feel that way.

Z: Those are all great points. The key is to simply become a better music listener at the end of the day. On that note, I don’t have criticism for just traditionalists. It makes me mad to see supporters of the extreme kind of Country (Hayes, Hunt…etc) completely write off anyone who doesn’t like them as someone who can’t “get with the times.” It’s in these moments where I’d like to interject how neither artist (and certain artists beyond) fits in the genre, and yet if I’m going to hold tight to my other perspective, it’s a tricky stance to take. Still, I like when Country music drives itself forward to form something new that pulls from the past and blends it with the new. Anyone who dislikes the aforementioned artists though is just seen as someone who can’t handle Country music evolving, and the truth is, I think it’s stuck in a rut spinning its wheels because of it.

You hear all the time now how artists want to expand their sound, and sometimes I can’t blame them. I mean, Eric Church still receives comment that he’s a “Pop” star in 2018. Rock? Yeah, definitely. Not Country? I don’t fully agree but I get where you’re coming from? But Pop?!? To artists I think it just signals that certain fans have a preferred box they want those artists to be in, and the artists aren’t allowed to do anything except what they want.

That’s the tricky part about the business. We’re the customers, and the artists are the “products.” If I don’t like my iPhone5, Apple makes something better. Artists are real human beings though that have their own visions.

In the case of Kacey Musgraves, when she announced that her new album wouldn’t be as “Country” as her previous ones, while the frustration is understandable, a proper response is “alright, that disappoints me” rather than say, “he or she can’t do that!” At the end of the day, we’re all going to feel what we feel about the music, but there’s a difference between not being a fan of the artist’s choice and not being a fan who want said artist to be happy.

M: Yeah, exactly, your last point makes me go back to Zac Brown for a second. As a fan, I was ecstatic that he was going back to the band’s original sound with Welcome Home. But his heart wasn’t in it, and you can hear that all over it. It makes it the ZBB album I listen to the least. I’m not saying I’d be a fan of his EDM stuff, but if he wants to do that, then let him be happy. I heard more of his passion on Sir Rosevelt as far as that goes. Anyway, I agree, I have a definite problem with the newer artists who assume we all want everything to sound like Hank and Waylon just because we don’t like them. And I get where you’re coming from about it being a difficult line to walk, but actually I think you can pretty easily make the case some of those artists don’t belong in the genre at all. Obviously they don’t sound country, but it’s more than that. Their lyrics aren’t real or honest either, you can’t argue that anything Walker Hayes has ever done has the depth of emotion that you just argued for with Caitlyn Smith. I think the problem with those artists is they’re so obviously just trying to cash in with country. They’re not real, they’re not honest, they’re not anything that relates to what I said when I defined country music. Take out all the accepted country sounds as well, and it’s like adding insult to injury.

Z: Exactly. Personally I liked Welcome Home more than the Sir Rosevelt project, but if I had to pick which avenue Brown should go down, I’d definitely say EDM. Just stop trying to call it Country when you blatantly said it wouldn’t be that. That’s an exception to the rule for me, mostly because the artist themselves have admitted what genre it is.

Walker Hayes is an interesting predicament, because I think people would counter your point with a song like “Craig”, and to be fair, the message is strong, but it’s presented in a childish fashion, whereas Country is more of a mature genre.

Cashing in is definitely a popular sentiment. I mean, go back and listen to Hayes’ songs “Pants” or “Why Wait For Summer”; they easily fit the mold of early 2010’s Country. His new stuff sounds like a Macklemore meets Sam Hunt knockoff, and at that point it’s hard to tell what his true intentions are.

M: Yeah, I’ll give you that, “Craig” might be the exception. Still, his older stuff is completely different to his new album as you pointed out. He’s clearly adapted himself to whatever he thinks will sell. And as we’ve been discussing, expanding yourself as an artist is fine, and you should. But with Walker, you honestly can’t even tell they’re the same person. That’s not artistic growth at that point, it’s just trend-chasing.

Z: Well if nothing else, at least we’ve established that – the difference between art and commercial fluff. Still, I’m curious. Who would you say really is “traditional country” sounding today?

M: Truly traditional country? Jason Eady. Ags Connolly. Vivian Leva also just released a really traditional album. Joshua Hedley might be about to do so as well, but we’ll have to wait for the whole album. Zephaniah OHora, although to be really technical and nerdy, he would be countrypolitan. Courtney Patton, I almost forgot to mention her, and she’s released one of my favorite albums this year. I’m sure I’m leaving out some really obvious names. But with all the subgenres country is splitting into, there really aren’t that many “traditional-sounding” ones left. Who would you consider really traditional? I know I have to be leaving obvious people out.

Z: To use this answer again – I’d have no idea. Unfortunately I think you could make arguments for all of them being more “folk” singers than anything else. I consider those first three artists as Country artists who are making really great modern Country, but with Hedley and O’Hora, it’s fine and all, but notice how it’s a carbon copy of music of the past. That’s not bad on principle – O’Hora made one of my favorite songs last year, and I’m looking forward to Hedley’s album, but it goes back to that point of many artists not being accepted as “real” country until they literally pull from that well that artists of the past did.

M: Yes, I agree. And carbon copies of the past won’t ultimately move the genre forward. There is a lot of great modern country, from Red Dirt to Americana to pop country, but the ones I mentioned are the most “traditional” ones I can think of. I think you can make a folk argument for some of Connolly’s music and Leva’s too, but Jason Eady I’d disagree, that’s straight-up, three-chord country. Still, if we have only one or only a handful of true traditionalist artists, it’s further proof that we have to embrace the forward-thinking stuff because ultimately, we want country music, or I call it our beloved country music a lot on CE, to survive. And putting limitations on it will kill it as quickly as letting in the Sam Hunts of the world.

I think to that end, it’s important for older listeners and fans of that traditional style to introduce their children to good modern country. For example, maybe you don’t like Maddie & Tae, but your granddaughter might, so you come together over that, and she gets that passion for country music. That’s far better than wishing it would all revert back to Haggard and Jones and leaving her to listen to Hunt and Hayes. It might not always be your type of country, but it’s important for traditionalists to open themselves up to the good modern country and pass it down so that country music lives on.

Z: Right, I’m not saying it would be my argument, but I could totally see someone coming up with some asinine excuse for why Eady isn’t “real” Country. I don’t know, that’s just the vibe I get, but maybe I’m reading too many Internet comments! I think you said it all with your last comment, Megan. I’m not sure what else to add, but I think this conversation has certainly been enlightening. It’s a tough question to really answer, and ultimately I’m not sure I’ll ever get it, but I think thankfully there’s an artist for everyone in the Country genre right now, so instead of arguing about what they are, let’s have discussions on their music. Those seem more fun, even though I did have fun with this particular conversation.

M: I had a lot of fun also, and I think that you said it perfectly when you said there’s someone in the genre for everyone. Today, we got releases from Lindi Ortega, Kacey Musgraves, Red Shahan, and Ashley McBryde, all carrying the torch for country music, all doing it completely differently, and, in my opinion, all releasing really kickass albums. So instead of arguing over which of them has more country cred, let’s go listen to all that good music. Thanks for the discussion, I always love exploring stuff like this.

Reviews

Album Review: Kacey Musgraves–Golden Hour

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Rating: 8.5/10

If there was one common criticism following Kacey Musgraves around after her first two excellent records, it was that she talked too much about other people, focusing her sharp wit and careful turns of phrase outward while not really looking within herself. One mark of a great artist is the ability to be vulnerable, to reach inside yourself and reveal a part of your soul, giving yourself up to scrutiny and judgment. Except for brief glimpses, Kacey Musgraves hadn’t given us that. We hadn’t seen enough of her humanity, and that became doubly apparent when she used so much of her songwriting talent for social commentary and pointed statements toward others. It was beginning to feel like Kacey could remove the specks from her listener’s eyes without examining the logs in her own, and while her first two albums were both outstanding, she needed to change. She needed to be more personal, to give us more of herself on her third record, to expand her horizons before she was put in a box and her witty lyrics started to feel stale.

Like any true artist, Musgraves recognized this. She knew she needed a change, and she delivered us a breath of fresh air with the simultaneous release of “Butterflies” and “Space Cowboy.” Both were personal songs for Kacey, and while they weren’t as strong lyrically as some of her previous work, it could be excused. If these were to reflect the overall quality of the songwriting on this effort, she’d be selling herself short. However, if these were meant to showcase a lighter, more tender side of Kacey and would be backed up by more substance on the album, they were a breath of fresh air and actually a welcome change for her.

The problem, at least for some, was that in embracing a different side of her personality and taking a different lyrical approach, Kacey also changed direction sonically. These two could still be considered country pop, though, and although not as traditional as anything she’d previously recorded, they still sounded like they belonged in the genre itself. Then came the disco song “High Horse,”–and by the way, I don’t care if you love it or hate it, but if you try to sell me on the fact this song is “disco country” somehow, you’re wrong–a polarizing little number that had fans completely divided. Some were worried for the direction of the album. Others praised her for the lively, engaging track. Personally, I had no problem with Musgraves giving us a disco song, but I didn’t care for the song itself, especially because it seemed to echo those familiar tropes about not judging others that characterized her earlier albums.

Now we have the whole album before us, and those same fans that wanted another traditional record from her are going to be disappointed. It’s definitely an experimental, forward-thinking project, and for the most part, the experiment really works.

The first half of this is a country pop album, blending pedal steel and synthesizers, focusing more on the mood of the record and Kacey Musgraves’ vocal delivery than on her songwriting talent. That said, “Butterflies” and “Space Cowboy” do prove to be the lightest songs lyrically on this first half, thereby making them better in the context of the album. We have the introspective, autobiographical opener “Slow Burn” starting us off with the line, “I was born in a hurry, always late, haven’t been early since ’88” to let us know right out of the gate that this album is going to be different, that she’s going to look within and reveal a part of herself to us. This song sets the tone for the whole record, creating this ethereal, dreamlike quality that remains throughout the album. This is probably best exemplified in “Oh, What a World,” a beautifully simple look at all the wonderful blessings and mysteries in this life and what it will mean to leave it all in the end. The mood here adds to the lyrics in the best way; these are traditionally country themes, but with this spacey production, you can imagine yourself staring up at the stars just as enamored by God’s creation as Kacey seems to be. It’s a great example of taking traditional lyrics and themes and pairing them with modern production to make a respectful and forward-thinking statement; in other words, it’s country evolving correctly. And then there’s “Love is a Wild Thing,” one of the standouts here and probably the most country with its acoustic guitars and pedal steel elements prominently in the mix. The melody here is beautiful, and actually, that’s true for much of this record. I’m convinced after several days with this album that Kacey Musgraves is one of the best melodic composers making music currently.

With “Happy & Sad,” the eighth track of thirteen, we come to a transition, and the album becomes basically straight pop. It’s a relatively smooth change because we’ve been easing into this throughout the record; it’s better than if she had opened the album this way. The atmospheric, spacey production continues throughout most of the back half as well, serving to unite this riskier part of the experiment with the earlier tracks. The songwriting does fall off a little here which in turn makes the change in her sound more noticeable. The front half is nearly flawless in terms of songwriting, so you quickly forgive any misgivings you might have had about the sound, but here, on some of the weaker tracks, those questions start to come back. It does close on a high note, however, with the title track and “Rainbow.” The former is just outstanding melodically, perhaps a more mature or introspective version of “Butterflies,” and the latter closes the record with a heartwarming piano ballad encouraging us all to see the rainbow in the midst of life’s storms. This is certainly the weaker half, but mostly, the experiment still works.

There are three distinct places on this album where it doesn’t work. “Mother” is admittedly and predictably gorgeous melodically, but it sounds so unfinished. And why shouldn’t it, when it’s less than a minute and a half long? Kacey’s been all but promoting the use of LSD with this song as she talks about writing it while on LSD and having an overwhelming longing to see her mother, regretting that they live so far apart. But I can’t help thinking that’s why she included it here, just to create an interesting talking point–because if she’d finished this, it would have become a good song, but it’s a song fragment and just interrupts the flow of everything and ruins that spacey vibe so crucial to this record. “Velvet Elvis” is just boring and unnecessary filler and could have been left off a 13-track project without consequence. And “High Horse?” Well, it’s both better and worse in album context. It’s better because among these songs, it doesn’t stick out the way it would have on an album like Pageant Material. It makes more sense sonically. However, “Wonder Woman” would have flowed effortlessly into “Golden Hour,” from the mood to the tempo on down to the key change. Instead, “High Horse” is stuck awkwardly in the middle, and in that sense, it sticks out like a sore thumb and is almost obnoxious. Ironically, I have less of a problem with the song itself now after spending some time with it, but it doesn’t fit the album at all and would have worked better as a standalone single. And once again, it goes back to the themes of her earlier albums lyrically, so it doesn’t fit with the personal nature of this project.

So yeah, this is certainly a different Kacey Musgraves than anything we’ve seen so far. Her sound has changed considerably, and she’s focusing more on melodies and vocal performances than on songwriting. Incidentally, Kacey Musgraves the vocalist has been highly underestimated, and in that sense, this is her best album without question. As far as the sonic changes, that’s going to be a matter of personal preference, but you can’t say that most of this record doesn’t work. I can’t argue with fans who will miss the traditional sound of Kacey’s previous albums, but those who thought that the change in sound would also reflect a change in substance and quality need not have worried. At this point, I don’t know if it’s better or worse than her earlier work, but if anything, it’s proven she can make a thoughtful, substantive country pop record as well as she can make a good traditional one. It shows her versatility and her talent as an artist. It shows her experiencing personal growth as a songwriter, willing to reach within for her reflections instead of focusing her attention outward. Maybe not what we were expecting, but Golden Hour is a great record.

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