Which translates into “If I knew you liked country music so much…”
But I don’t. I really don’t.
I’m just another holdover from that time when rock 'n roll did Nashville one better by subtracting the glitz and making better country music. Yeah, I know that’s not fair or true, but we had Bob Dylan, the Grateful Dead, and the Flying Burrito Brothers, so we didn’t think we needed George Jones, Merle Haggard or Dolly Parton.
But these days, unless you’re into Alt-Country, you take your rock 'n roll, hold the country thank you very much.
So I don’t even try to get Son-and-guitar-player Michael into it. Forget about Daughter-and-Broadway-Baby Tess. (See above for Mrs. Jaybee.)
I was even beginning to think I didn’t like it either. When I dipped into it, I got very mixed results. I really liked Kacey Musgroves, I was left unimpressed by Miranda Lambert and Brad Paisley.
Or rather, their omnipresent pedal steel guitars put me off for years. They pour it on like ketchup (and I like ketchup). It’s only now when I play those records (at work, of course) that I enjoy their energy and smarts.
So I waited a good long while before dipping my toe back in the pool. But I finally did and it seems the water’s fine.
Jason Isbell: The Nashville Sound (2017)
Yet another singer-songwriter, I thought. When I’m just not feeling it, it’s because I’m mistaking my own tired and limited imagination for what I should be happy to encounter - someone else’s. So I waited a while.
But a singer-songwriter would be better than a country music singer, right? How about an ex-member of the Drive-by Truckers? Now we’re talking.
Since leaving the Truckers, he’s put out a few solo records. And now he’s got a band - The 400 Unit - to help put his songs across. His voice isn’t particularly strong, but his emotional delivery and empathetic lyrics really hit the mark.
I grudgingly admitted that this was a (just another) good record, ho-hum. But when I actually put it on I find I’m impressed by every single song, every single time.
Isbell confronts the world and his own part in it and doesn’t always love what he sees. But he doesn’t whine about it. He’s mature enough to know he owes something to his fellow man and woman. Imperfect as he is, he’s going to try.
And he likes to rock, too. So what if on “Anxiety” he tries to sound like the Beatles (I Want You) and fails? That’s forgivable. I’m anxious, too. On “Cumberland Gap” he tries to sound like Springsteen and succeeds.
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“Cumberland Gap”
Lori McKenna: The Bird and the Rifle (2016)
Unlike Isbell, McKenna lands pretty squarely on country, but she leaves the pedal steel at the door.
Like Isbell, she doesn’t limit herself to the personal, but she does keep to her hometown and finds the universal there.
There’s maybe one song that isn’t slow to mid-tempo. And that’s okay because McKenna uses the time to nail her vocals, lyrics and melodies.
It’s a relief that her ripe quavering voice isn’t the incoming missile we’ve come to expect from country divas. It’s just perfectly built to put these songs across.
And what songs they are! She makes every word count, dissecting doomed relationships or guiding younger women away from her own mistakes.
The melodies aren’t innovative or spectacular but they never settle for the ordinary. They always find another turn, either down or up or sideways that gives you more than you expected.
And when you put all this together it’s even better than Kacey Musgraves, and maybe even Jason Isbell.
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“Halfway Home”
I'm happy to report there is nothing on either of these records I have to try to like. They are unmistakably country, but not tied down by it.
Which is kind of what made the country music by Dylan, the Dead and the Burritos so great.
Jason and Lori, welcome to the club.
