Artist:Leftover Salmon Hometown: Boulder, Colorado Song: “Boogie Grass Band” Album:Brand New Good Old Days Release Date: May 7, 2021 Label: Compass Records
In Their Words: “This old Conway Twitty song was recommended for the band by our friend Ronnie McCoury years ago. It speaks to where we sit on the musical spectrum. We love country, bluegrass and rock music and like to do them all at the same time! This song acknowledges that while taking it taking it in a uniquely Salmon direction.” — Vince Herman, Leftover Salmon
Artist:Devil Doll Hometown: Cleveland, Ohio Song: “It’s Only Make Believe” Album:Lover & A Fighter Release Date: May 1, 2020
In Their Words: “I remember the first time I heard ‘It’s Only Make Believe’ and I was frozen in the vulnerable conviction of Conway Twitty’s words and the swerve with which he delivered them. He had this way of fearlessly putting his heart on his sleeve with such a confidence that blurred the memory of any lover that may have come before him. He embodied the things dreams are made of. He made commitment and the idea of growing old with someone sexy. Recording this song has been on my bucket list for years and I wanted to make it special, so I gave it a little Devil Doll flair and even recorded it in French (to be released later this year), which has never been done before. Imagine one of the sexiest songs ever written being sung in one of the sexiest languages in the world. I did. I hope he’s smiling.” — Devil Doll (Colleen Duffy)
I can still remember the first time I saw Old Crow Medicine Show live. It was a sweltering summer night in Nashville around 2008 (back before the bachelorettes and Bird scooters) and they played from a massive barge moored at Riverfront Park. The thing was huge — far too big for six skinny street musicians to budge — but I swear it moved while they stomped and hollered, the Cumberland rolling by lazily behind them.
I was familiar with the band and already loved the unapologetic mix of tradition and edgy intensity, but that live show was revelatory. It gave me a new appreciation for the sense of community Old Crow was trying to forge, so it’s always surprised me that they didn’t record live albums. That has finally changed with this month’s release of Live at the Ryman.
Backstage at the Grand Ole Opry House on another hot summer night, front man Ketch Secor spoke with BGS about the project, why Old Crow is just now getting around to a live album, and what their style of music needs most right now.
BGS: Part of the idea of this album is that Old Crow has played the Ryman over 40 times. For a band that started out busking in the Northeast, how does it feel wrap your head around that?
Ketch Secor: Actually, I wish I had a real count because Lord knows I’ve played there more than 40 times. I think that’s how many times we’ve headlined, but if you add them all up I bet it’s a triple-digit number. We’ve been openers there for Dolly Parton back in 2002 for, like, a daytime show. We’ve done a lot of film and television there, all kinds of awards shows. It always felt like the place to shoot for — it’s the moon, the Ryman Auditorium, and we were always a shoot-for-the-moon kind of band because we figured “Well, we’re not supposed to be here anyway, so we might as well try and go as far with it as we can.”
You self-released one live album in 2001, and then nothing else until now. Why did it take 18 years to do another, since the live show has always been the foundation of what you guys do?
Oh, I think because we’ve always tried to put out a new studio record every couple of years, and here at the 21-year mark it’s probably time to start doing exactly what we feel like doing.
You haven’t been doing that the whole time?
Nah, not with those studio records. There’s a lot of stuff you’ve gotta do. Yeah, we always did it “our way” in the fact that we always played our own music. But just being in the music business means doing it everybody else’s way.
So you had to make a few compromises here and there?
Oh yeah, there was a lot of playing the game in ways that never seemed to pan out, but it never stopped us. That was just the way it was, and we were impressionable, so that’s what we did. We did it the way we were advised to do it.
Can you elaborate a little?
Like playing Napster. Doing shows for radio programmers in L.A. who never played us. Trying to make videos for CMT that were never in rotation, ever. …Opening up for Carrie Underwood at [Country Radio Seminar], it’s like, “What were we doing there?” Those guys, they might have liked it, but they were never gonna play it. And I don’t care if they like it, I want them to fucking play it, or I don’t want to play that show.
So now that you feel freed up to do it your way, what’s that look like?
Live at the Ryman. Here we are singing a Merle Travis song! Here we are singing our songs or selling popcorn and tickets and people brought their buck-dance shoes! I mean, we’ve set beer records at the Ryman. I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than sell records! …I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than digital streams! What’s the fun in that?
“Tell it to Me,” “Methamphetamine,” those are interesting songs to present because rural America has a new drug problem going on with opioids. Why is it important for you guys to sing songs like that, especially at the Ryman?
Well, “Tell It to Me” was recorded in Johnson City in 1928 I think. The band that brought that song to the studio had been an original backing band for Jimmie Rodgers… Anyway, I’m just saying this because if you like country music, you should probably know that drug songs have been part of the canon since recording studios first illuminated a red light bulb and said, “You’re on.”
I don’t think people do know that. We’re just now starting to get radio songs with pot references that people don’t flip out over.
Yeah, I mean it was blow in the ‘20s and now it’s pot in the 2010s. And then “Meth” is a really different kind of song because it’s more topical. We recorded it a long time ago but it seemed important to bring it back and revamp it, make it more intense, and Charlie Worsham plays some really great electric guitar on it. It just feels like it’s knocking on your door, like a hurricane.
Tell me about doing “Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man” with Margo Price.
We were down in Oxford, Mississippi, doing a show with Margo. She was opening up for us down there near Ole Miss, and we were looking for a song that seemed to fit, so we tried that one. Our duo thing felt really good, and I feel like I’m a little bit in the Conway range — and she’s definitely in the Loretta range — so it worked out pretty good. We heard the playback we thought it sounded great so we wanted to put it out. I saw her at the grocery store the other day and she said she loved it.
Why did you include a song like “C.C. Rider,” which has Lee Oskar playing harmonica?
I really love his band War. We did “Lowrider” onstage at the Ryman, too, maybe that will come out on Volume 2. But what I really loved about that moment on the Ryman recording is that it has twin harps. You know the old guys don’t have their pictures up here [gestures at photos of Opry stars on the dressing room wall]. …But the story of the twin harp playing of the Crook Brothers — Herman and Louis Crook — lives a long time, because Herman and Louis lived, like, into their 90s. What they were great at was two harmonicas playing in unison.
That’s interesting. In your music you’re often looking to the past for inspiration, but what do you think is the future of string bean …. er, string band music, Americana?
You just answered it, man. We need a new Stringbean. Nobody’s acting like that and that’s what’s missing. Who’s gonna be the clown? What happened to the kind of entertainment that’s self-effacing? Everybody on this wall loves the clowns, but none of them are. They’re “the vocalists” and we’re supposed to take them seriously. I’d love to see this genre — whether it’s country or Americana or whatever — just not take itself so damn seriously. Let’s just have a grand ole time. Let’s poke some fun at each other, and especially at ourselves. I’d love to see that.
It’s a little startling when Crystal Gayle pops into the hallway of her Music Row office and cheerfully waves for this writer to come on back. Along with being a charming and welcoming host, she’s also one of country music’s most identifiable entertainers, a Grand Ole Opry member, a Grammy winner, and a genuine class act.
She’s also a recording artist again, ending a 16-year absence with You Don’t Know Me, a collection of country classics that honors her heroes, as well as her sister, Loretta Lynn, and Loretta’s late husband, Mooney Lynn. It was Mooney, she says, that ushered her into the spotlight as a teenager, and that memory prompted Gayle to begin the album with “Ribbon of Darkness,” a Marty Robbins hit in 1965.
“‘Ribbon of Darkness’ was my first song on the Opry,” she recalls. “I was probably 16 or 17, and my sister Loretta was sick and Mooney talked them into letting me get on stage and sing a song in her place. It was just a thrill! Of course, later on when I started out, I opened for Marty Robbins. Marty was so incredible. I got to work with Jack Greene, Stringbean, Grandpa Jones, Bill Monroe. … My album is filled with songs that mean something to me. This is a part of my life that a lot of people don’t know about.”
Gayle co-produced the album with her son, Christos, and continued the family connection by recording “Put It Off Until Tomorrow” with both of her singing sisters, Loretta Lynn and Peggy Sue. She also unearthed “You Never Were Mine,” a tearjerker written by her late brother Jay Lee Webb. Surrounded by fan gifts and photos from throughout her career, Gayle visited with BGS about her earliest days in Nashville, how she found her own voice, and why she’s still fond of her own country classic, “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.”
BGS: What was it like for you as a new artist in 1970, meeting Jack Greene, Marty Robbins, and all of these stars?
CG: I was in awe of everybody, but of course when Loretta would come through town — because she was singing as I was growing up — she would be with maybe Ferlin Husky. I remember loving that. Or the Wilburn Brothers. They were incredible! I loved the harmony that they did. I could sit and listen to their music all day long, I just loved it. Of course I was a fan as well, but you have to give them their space. [Laughs] I learned that from Loretta.
I’m curious about Mooney. How did he influence your career?
Mooney really believed in my ability of singing. He loved my voice and he actually got my contract with Decca Records, but the best thing about it, he got a very short contract. It was the long ones that can ruin a lot of artists, because now they’re on this label, they’ve got so many years left, and they can’t do anything and [the label isn’t] helping them at all. They are not pushing the records.
So I was very lucky when my contract was up and Owen [Bradley] called me in. It was like, “Well, you’re going to do this, this, this, or we say bye.” I said, “Okay, bye.” [Laughs] I mean, it was hard. It was a hard time and I really thought at that time, “I’m just going to go back to Indiana and do what I’m doing.” I was married and my husband was going to Indiana University. Then when we moved to Nashville, he went to Vanderbilt in law school.
But I was just lucky. I was in the right place at the right time because before I left town, I was fulfilling my [appearance] obligations and I ran into Lynn Shults, who was with United Artists. We were just talking and he says, “Well, what label are you with now?” I said, “No one.” He said, “Will you come and talk to me Monday?” So things fell into place. And they put me with Allen Reynolds.
To say the least, that worked out.
Oh it did.
There was one song here I didn’t recognize – “I’ve Seen That Look on Me a Thousand Times.”
That was a song that our engineer Eric Prestidge loved. He said, “You’ve got to listen to this.” It was a song that I thought, “You know, a girl doesn’t really sing this… And I’m going to do it.” And I loved that it was a Harlan Howard song.
Several times on this record, it’s a woman singing about the drinking and the cheating. What is it about those flawed characters that makes you want to step into those shoes?
I’ve always said that if I had all the heartache I’ve sung about in my songs, I’d be in poor shape. So you’re a little bit of an actress or an actor. I’ve worked so many little clubs and bars on the way up — and even in high school I’d work the little places I could get into without getting anybody in trouble — that you saw the heartache. You saw the people that these songs really was their life.
So you can get into that and sing about it. “Just One More” was one of Mooney’s favorite songs and when they’d come through and stop at Mom’s house, I’d have to sing a cappella — he had me learn “Just One More.”
How old were you?
I was probably in sixth or seventh grade. [Laughs] “Just one more and then another…”
A drinking song from a 12-year-old.
“I’ll keep drinking, it don’t matter….” [Laughs]
You’ve included “Hello Walls,” written by the great Willie Nelson. As a co-producer, what kind of vibe were you going for?
I was actually going to go for the style that Faron Young did, and have the type of harmonies with the “hello, hello” … and we didn’t [use that idea] because I let other people influence me. They said, “No, you can’t, you’ve got to change it a little.” But I did my own harmony on that particular song. You know, I opened for Faron. I used his band and we did some dates together.
I remember rehearsing with him and the group. They were incredible guys, and very, very special to me. They’d watch out. I was that young girl that — all of them, even Conway Twitty — if I was on their shows, they were going to watch out for me because as the little sister of Loretta, they knew that she’d kill them if they didn’t!
Here you are, this young woman, 20 or 21 years old, starting out with these middle-aged guys who are stars. I wondered how they treated you.
Everyone treated me great and I think it really showed a lot of respect as well for my sister. And you know, I’m not someone that’s going to come out there and be that floozy, too. I think the way you present yourself is a part of it. But no, they were all very, very, very good.
And with Faron, when I wanted to do “Hello Walls,” I had completely forgotten that Willie Nelson had written the song and I’m starting to sing it, and I said, “Of course, the phrasing.”
Your phrasing is distinct, too. At what point did you find your own voice, do you think?
I think working with Allen. He would say, “Now sing this song, do it different ways, and then listen back and see which you like the best.” See, he let me listen to my voice and not just go in and sing the song. Because I was a belter. I remember going in the first time and Charles Cochran’s playing the piano and I’m singing at the top of my lungs. Allen grins and he says, “Can you sing it a little bit lighter?” [Laughs] … Allen was laid-back like me, and was not forceful, but he did pull out things within me. He’d say, “Do you like this song? Because you’re going to be the one singing it. You better like it.”
What a gift, instead of a producer just telling you what to do.
Oh, it was incredible. I was used to people telling me everything but Allen knew it was going to be me out there pounding the road and he wanted me to have the songs that I felt really comfortable with. I get asked the question, “Do you ever get tired of singing ‘Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue’?” I don’t, because that song — Richard Leigh wrote it — is so well-written. I’ve always said it says so much in so little. I love it that it’s not all these words I have to think about to sing. There are so many songs out there where it’s like, “OK, what verse is next?” But this song just flows, and I think that’s one of the reasons that it was as big as it was.
Country music was made for duets. Not only because those tight, tasty harmonies are a foundational aspect of the music, but also because country accomplishes heartbreak — and every other make and model of love song — better than almost any other genre. (Thought quite possibly better than all other genres.) It just makes sense to have two singers, one to play each role in a lost, soon-to-be-lost, or (rarely) divine, never-perishing romance. But the format isn’t restricted to lovers or their placeholders, it can just as seamlessly fit heroes and acolytes, parents and children, siblings, peers, fellow pot smokers, and on and on.
Take a scroll through these twenty-two country twosomes:
Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton
We couldn’t have this list without these two. They should be the start, middle, and end of any definitive list of country duos. So we’ll just make the easy choice and kick it all off with Kenny and Dolly — that extra intro about their friendship and the years they’ve known each other? Swoon.
Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty
After saying what we did about Kenny & Dolly we knew this pair needed to come next — so as to not rile anyone. Out of countless duets we could have chosen, how could any top “You’re The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly?”
Willie Nelson & Ray Charles
For inexplicable reasons people tend to forget Ray Charles’ incredible forays into country. His collaborations with Willie are stunning for the extreme juxtaposition of their voices and styles — they feel and swing so distinctly and differently, but all while perfectly complementary. “Seven Spanish Angels” ranked a very close second to this number in our selection process.
Glen Campbell & John Hartford
The most-recorded song in the history of recording? It’s said “Gentle On My Mind” holds that honor. And goodness gracious of course it does. Here’s its writer and its popularizer and hitmaker together.
Lee Ann Womack & George Strait
Together, Lee Ann and George were beacons of the trad country duet form, especially in the ’90s and early 2000s. This one from the jewel in the crown of Lee Ann’s discography, Call Me Crazy, is crisply modern, but with decidedly timeless vocals.
George Jones & Tammy Wynette
A broken, country fairy tale of a love story, George and Tammy’s relationship was infamously fraught, but damn if that didn’t just make their duets ever more… ethereal. Which doesn’t justify that Tammy Wynette kinda pain, to be sure, but it does remind us that if country can do anything better than all other genres, it can be sad.
Reba McEntire & Linda Davis
One of the best country songs, duets, and music videos EVER MADE. Theatrical and epic and a little silly and downright catchy and Rob Reiner and… we could go on forever.
Tanya Tucker & Delbert McClinton
Tanya is back with a brand new album and its well-deserved level of attention has been helping to re-shine the spotlight on her expansive career. Forty top ten hits across three decades. Who does that? Here she duets with Delbert McClinton on their 1993 hit, “Tell Me About It.”
Alan Jackson & Jimmy Buffett
Hey, if this has to be stuck in our heads for the rest of the month, it should be stuck in yours, too. Fair’s fair. It’s only half past [whatever time it is], but we don’t care.
Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash
One of the most recognizable duos in the history of the genre, immortalized not only in their discography but in a film adaptation of their love as well, Walk the Line. We all know “Jackson” as familiarly as the ABC’s, so here’s a slightly lesser-known beaut. (Keep watching til the last verse for an adorable bit from June.)
Eric Church & Rhiannon Giddens
Country is at its best when it surprises us. This collaboration is certainly, on the surface, unexpected, but the message of the song isn’t the only way these two artists can relate to each other. Over the course of their careers they’ve both fought their way from the fringes to the centers of their respective scenes. More of this, please.
Dolly Parton & Porter Wagoner
Dolly got her start with Porter Wagoner on his television show in the 1960s. They can certainly be credited with pioneering, popularizing, and epitomizing the country duet format. One of her most famous hits, “I Will Always Love You,” was written for Porter as she lamented leaving their act to go totally solo. (We’re a little glad she did.) You can tell they sang this song just a few gajillion times together, give or take.
Pam Tillis & Mel Tillis
Father/daughter duos in country aren’t as common, but they certainly aren’t unheard of. Pam and Mel are a perfect example. (The Kendalls are another.)
Patty Loveless & Ralph Stanley
Patty Loveless received the first ever Ralph Stanley Mountain Music Memorial Legacy Award in 2017 at Ralph’s home festival, Hills of Home, in Wise County, Virginia. Patty and Ralph were longtime friends and collaborators during his lifetime and even through her mainstream country success she referenced bluegrass and Ralph as influences — and she cut a few bluegrass records as well.
Alison Krauss & James Taylor
It’s. Just. Too. Good. Like butter. Like a warm bubble bath. Like floating on a cloud. Two voices that were meant to intertwine.
Charley Pride & Glen Campbell
These two were made to sing Latin-inflected harmonies together, weren’t they? Charley Pride gets overlooked by these sorts of lists all too often. But dang if he didn’t crank out some stellar collaborations, too!
Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris
“Love Hurts” and boy, if Gram and Emmylou don’t make you believe it heart and soul and body and being. The definitive version of this Boudleaux Bryant song? Perhaps.
Willie Nelson & Merle Haggard
Icons being icons. And friends. And amazingly talented, ceaselessly musical comrades. You love to see it. (We could’ve/should’ve chosen “Pancho & Lefty.” We did not.)
Vince Gill & Amy Grant
There are quite a few reasons why the Ryman Auditorium basically hands this husband and wife duo the keys to the place each December. Basically all of those reasons are evident in this one. It’s fitting that this video came from one of those Christmas shows, too.
Dolly Parton & Sia
Dolly literally outdoes herself, re-recording “Here I Am” for the original soundtrack for her Netflix film, Dumplin’, after she first cut the Top 40 country single in 1971. Clearly she and Sia have much more in common than an affinity for wigs; their soaring, acrobatic voices seem so disparate in style and form until you hear them together. Listen on repeat for the best therapeutic results.
Robert Plant & Alison Krauss
[Insert entire Raising Sand album here, because how could we ever choose?] Lol jk, here’s “Killing the Blues.”
Carrie Underwood & Randy Travis
Cross-generational, meet-your-hero magic right here. Little did we know what was in store for Carrie Underwood then. But the way Randy looks at her up there, you can tell he knows she’s goin’ places.
Ah, the mixtape. Playlists. Songs. BGS asked us to do a mixtape and we decided it would be fun to ‘mix’ it up with a bunch of our favorite duos. A lot of them we just pulled off of our Wild Ponies Friends and Neighbors playlist. The hard part was narrowing it down. We threw in a few ringers who aren’t really our friends or neighbors — but we wish they were. There are so many ways to present music. We love a great big band, a power trio, a solitary soul with an acoustic guitar…
But there’s really something special about two voices working together, spiraling into that rare space that makes the whole room levitate. There’s a push and twist. If you’re at a show you can see it in the performers’ eyes when it locks in and happens. But if you can’t be at the show the next best thing is to close your eyes and just listen to the music. If you sit real still you might even be able to levitate at home, just a little. It’s worth a try. — Doug and Telisha Williams, Wild Ponies
Stacey Earle and Mark Stuart – “Next Door Down”
Oh, y’all, where do we even start with Stacey and Mark? We would not be making the mixtape or probably even be in Nashville without the support and love of these two. We picked “Next Door Down” from Simple Girl, because it was this release that began our love affair with Stacey and Mark. I’m pretty sure we can still play each and every song on that record!
Gillian Welch & David Rawlings – “Annabelle”
Well, our first dog was named Annabelle, after this song. That’s just how much we love Gillian, Dave, and this record.
Buddy & Julie Miller – “Keep Your Distance”
We’re so excited about Buddy and Julie’s new record, but we reached back in time a little on this one. When I listen to this song (by Richard Thompson?), Buddy and Julie’s influence on Wild Ponies’ sound is so evident.
Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton – “Put It Off Until Tomorrow”
Oh, Porter and Dolly, one of the original duos. Each of them is such a talent, but together, there is magic — a third, indescribable element that elevates the song,
John Prine and Iris Dement – “In Spite of Ourselves”
Come on, John Prine AND Iris Dement. Our love for both of these superstars runs deep, but the blend of their quirky authenticity is stunning.
The Louvin Brothers – “My Baby’s Gone”
There’s nothing like family harmony. We were lucky enough to get to know Charlie Louvin later in his life, and the stories he shared about singing with his brother were slightly terrifying and beautiful. All the years after Ira’s death, Charlie could still hear Ira’s voice and his part every time he sang. The way that they could seamlessly switch parts and cross each other’s lines is something that maybe only those that share blood can accomplish.
Wild Ponies – “Hearts and Bones”
Singing this song live each night has become a favorite spot in our set. There’s something in the intimacy of our vocals — even just the “ooohs.” It almost feels like we’re sharing something that the audience shouldn’t be allowed to see.
Robby Hecht and Caroline Spence – “A Night Together”
Robby and Caroline are both amazing singers and songwriters. Two of our favorites in Nashville, right now. This duet record is absolutely stunning. I hope there’s another coming.
Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn – “Easy Loving”
This song was released before I was born, but feels like the soundtrack to my childhood. I think I can even smell the chicken casserole cooking in the oven.
The Everly Brothers – “All I Have to Do Is Dream”
This is what every duo wants to sound like. Period. Anyone who tells you different is either lying or they’ve never actually heard this track.
Freddy and Francine – “Half a Mind”
I’m so happy that Lee and Bianca (aka Freddy and Francine) are in Nashville now. Their show and sound is amazing! Don’t those tight, powerful harmonies make you want to move?!
The Sea The Sea – “Love We Are We Love”
I challenge you to pick out who is singing what part with these two. Chuck and Mira’s voices blend so beautifully together, that it’s easy for me to get lost somewhere in the space between.
The White Stripes – “In the Cold, Cold Night”
Bad. Ass. The White Stripes make me want to break all the rules. This is such a cool track, because it’s mostly just Meg’s voice and Jack’s guitar. I guess not technically a duet, but it still feels like one. So intimate and creepy.
Anana Kaye – “Blueberry Fireworks”
Anana and Irakli are just weird and cool. Their writing is so big and theatrical. I love what they do. You should really go see them live — you can’t look away. They’re so good.
Waylon Jennings & Willie Nelson – “Pick up the Tempo”
Similar to the Conway and Loretta tune, this sounds like my childhood, only this time the smell is my daddy’s truck instead of chicken casserole.
What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?
I don’t mean to sound like I’m too cool to acknowledge that books, films, and paintings affect me (of course they do), but I think the single biggest influence on the work I do comes from human interaction and my observations of it. I absorb communication (spoken and non-linguistic) between people — whether it’s firsthand or from the sidelines — in the ways that one might go to the Met to see their favorite Degas. I do think, at times, that the way people interact is a form of art, because the composition matters and because it requires context and begs for interpretation.
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
When I was just a little kid, I’d sit in front of stacks and piles of my parents’ vinyl record collection as my mom would curate the playlist of the day. Buck Owens, Loretta Lynn, Emmylou Harris, Bobbie Gentry, Conway Twitty, Hank Williams Sr., Elvis, and The Beatles… those were some of the artists in heavy rotation in our household. I remember being four years old and all I wanted to do was listen to those records. I was learning to read at that time too and my mom would help me as I sounded out the words written in the liner notes. I recall saying to my mom, “I want to do this. I want make my own records.” To which she replied, “You can.” And in that moment I really believed that I could and that I would.
If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?
Mission Statement: Find joy in every part of the work. The music. The people. The solitude. The airports. The chaos. The struggle. The triumph. The songs. Find The Joy.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
I try to walk a lot wherever I am. I’ve always cherished the experience of putting my feet down on dirt, gravel, pavement, and stone in places where I’m pretty sure I’ll never walk again. There’s something profound about it for me. Like most folks, I do my best thinking on my walks. Usually, on these walks, I don’t think about melodies or lyrics, but rather, I think about characters. The characters I consider (mostly fictitious) have free reign of my imagination for 1-2 hours to share their monologues or dialogues with me. I remember being a kid on my paper route and doing the same thing. I don’t know why I enjoy it, but I do.
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?
I’m not a big foodie and I’ve never answered questions about the intersection of food and art with any style or substance, to be honest. I can say this though– if you give me a night of Rodney Crowell and Joe Henry together on stage, I’d be pretty damn happy with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
No matter where you may stand on the Lil Nas X viral sensation “Old Town Road” and the associated media firestorm, Twitter debates, and raging country-purity authenticity signalling, we should all be able to agree on one thing: country music has always been a welcoming home to musical memes. Sure, that term may be more recent, a product of the internet age, but ever since the dawn of country as a format silly, tongue-in-cheek, self-deprecating, hilarious, and downright foolish songs have been just as integral a part of the genre as heartbreak, cheatin’, booze, and trucks.
We thought it’s high time we celebrate the knee-slappin’, gut-bustin’ history of country music’s meme-ready songs from across the decades. Here are fourteen of our favorites — yes, just fourteen. We can assure you there are dozens and dozens more where these came from.
“A Boy Named Sue” – Johnny Cash
The man in black, one of the most iconic personas in the history of country music, famous for his grit, his stoicism, and his rough-hewn voice wasn’t even “above” recording a song steeped in satire. Hopefully in 2019 life is getting easier for boys named Sue.
“What a Waste of Good Corn Liquor” – Tennessee Mafia Jug Band
Originally recorded by Country Music Hall of Fame and Bluegrass Hall of Fame member Mac Wiseman, this disconcertingly happy-sounding song tells a story with a moral: moonshine will melt you. Don’t spoil the moonshine.
“The King Is Gone (So Are You)” – George Jones
A song about Elvis, Fred Flintstone, drinking, and heartbreak. This one ticks all of the boxes. Even the “use yabadabadoo in a song” box.
“Did I Shave My Legs For This?” – Deana Carter
Country, after all, is all about the relatability of the human condition. Jilted would-be lovers everywhere have felt your pain, Deana. We truly have.
“Don’t Let The Stars Get In Your Eyeballs” – Homer & Jethro
The original Weird Al Yankovics of country and bluegrass, Homer & Jethro wrote (and re-wrote) scores of songs with wacky, eye roll-inducing, laugh-out-loud funny lyrics, ad libs, and arrangements. Check that steel solo!
“I’ll Oilwells Love You” – Dolly Parton
No, Whitney Houston did not cover this one. But that would have been magnificent.
“You Can’t Roller Skate In A Buffalo Herd” – Roger Miller
One of country’s humorous kings, Roger Miller recorded a host of silly songs over the course of his career. We chose this particular number because of its evergreen wisdom. Of course.
“You’re The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly” – Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty
But you know what? Looks ain’t everything. And money ain’t everything.
“I’m My Own Grandpa” – Willie Nelson
Get out a piece of scratch paper and sketch this family tree as you go. Does it seem a little… circular? Yeah… that’s the problem.
“Would Jesus Wear A Rolex” – Ray Stevens
A modern country parable. Again, an artist with plenty of silly and sarcastic songs to choose from — and Ray Stevens is being inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame this year. Sounds pretty country to us…
“Cleopatra, Queen Of Denial” – Pam Tillis
Yes. More country songs with outright puns as their hooks, please. And of course, we’ve all been there, Pam. Denial is a popular destination.
“Illegal Smile” – John Prine
On the opening track of his debut album Prine immediately set the tone for his entire career with some of the most nonsensical and witty lyrics ever set to song. “Well done, hot dog bun, my sister’s a nun.”
“I’ll Think Of A Reason Later” – Lee Ann Womack
If you’ve never driven down the road shouting along with this one, we highly recommend that you do — as soon as possible. The song’s main character has a remarkable sense of self-awareness for being so viscerally incensed. If you really hate someone — who may or may not have ended up with your former significant other — it may be your family’s redneck nature.
“My Give A Damn’s Busted” – Jo Dee Messina
Look, if you’ve gotten to the end of this list and you haven’t enjoyed yourself, or maybe you don’t get the point, or maybe you think this is just useless clickbait… whatever the case may be, this song counts as our response. “Nah, man. Sorry.” (Isn’t country the best?)
A queer Jew from Brooklyn seems like the most unlikely candidate to front a country band, right? If you factor in Karen Pittelman’s past experience singing and performing punk and queercore, her current old country-influenced, honky tonk-inspired group, Karen & the Sorrows, seems even more implausible. Addressing these kind of assumptions about who “owns” country or who is allowed “admission” to country — by the mainstream country machine, country radio, country writers, or country fans at large — is why the following conversation is so important. On the surface, it would be easy, even hackneyed, to presume that Pittelman and company came to country as opportunists on the waves of the Americana tide. But considering LGBTQ+ identities and perspectives in roots music necessitates digging deeper. Doing so in our laughter-filled dialogue with Pittelman was both enlightening and encouraging.
Before Karen & the Sorrows, you were singing in a punk band. I wonder how you bridged the gap between punk and country — it sounds like it was something of a homecoming for you. Did identity play into you leaving country behind? Did you feel that in punk you would be more free to be yourself rather than in country?
Yeah, I think that that’s true. I came up around queercore, a place where making music and building queer community are all one thing. But I also think the distance between country and punk isn’t as far as people like to think. Who’s more punk than Johnny Cash? Johnny Cash is punk as fuck. I think, in terms of genres that give you a space to tap into anger and make something out of that, punk and country are two of the best. Punk isn’t so good for heartbreak and that’s what took me back to country. Really, what I love the most are sad songs. My heart was broken and, I dunno, I guess when my heart breaks, pedal steel comes out. [Laughs] Different things happen for different people’s hearts, but that’s what’s in mine, so I had to come back to country, whether I wanted to or not.
What was the beginning of country for you? Did you grow up listening to it?
I guess I’m not the average country music listener. I grew up in New York City. Being a queer Jew, I’m not whatever is supposed to be the stereotype of a country music listener. [Laughs] I think lots of people who love country music don’t fit the stereotypes. My dad, when I was growing up, ran a company called Heartland Music and he made compilation albums that were sold on TV. He was working, through my childhood, mostly with country music stars. He would be making these commercials with Conway and Loretta, and George Jones, and Don Williams, and then come back home and play me everything — and force me to listen to everything and learn it. I was kind of resistant, but it all sunk in. I guess it was just in there waiting to come out later.
I always find it interesting that a lot of people who might be opposed to LGBTQ+ rights feel that, because these identities are becoming more visible in more traditionally conservative spheres — roots music, country, bluegrass, old-time — that people with othered identities are “infiltrators.” But when I have these conversations with diverse people, their stories are exactly analogous to anybody else’s experience getting into these genres. Where do you think this disconnect is happening?
I think that’s a kind of stance that happens not just in this situation, but in a lot of different situations where people are feeling afraid of anyone who feels like an “other” to them. Not just LGBTQ, but anybody who is outside of who they define as their community. It always feels like people are infiltrating, because the “others” feel scary. Almost always, whoever is being termed the “other” has been there all along. Especially in America, we’re all mixed up with each other whether we understand it or not. Depending on where you live, maybe things are less racially or religiously diverse, but you don’t have to travel very far before that changes. And certainly you can’t get away from LGBTQ people; we’re everywhere. We’re 10 percent of the population. So, whether someone realizes it or not, we’re always there. We’re your friends and your community. Maybe that makes it even more scary — people having to redefine who they are and who they think everyone else is in relationship to themselves.
I think that’s what I grapple with the most in trying to unpack these issues with people who may stand in opposition. Because of the way the narrative has been told for so long, it’s easy to think that these ideas have only cropped up in the past 30 to 40 years. It’s hard to undo the revisionist history that everyone holds so closely, because it’s a linchpin to their worldview.
When the history of queer people in music is erased, of course nobody knows that it’s actually there. Queer people have been making all kinds of music all along, of course. If you’re not used to hearing that, I get it. You’ve been told your whole life that somebody is the enemy, that somebody is dangerous to you because of who they are — no matter how you define that “other” — you’ve got a lot to disentangle and unpack before you can see me or somebody else as a fellow musician, your neighbor, your friend, or your family.
I noticed, when I first started reading about your band and your album, that you’re clearly labeled and tagged “queer country.” In the course of these interviews and conversations, I’ve found a whole continuum of visibility and display of artists’ identities in what they create. I wondered how you got to the point where you wanted it to be overtly queer?
To me, first and foremost, it’s about the music. First, second, and third it’s about the music — and I just want people to hear the music. As a woman, though, I already don’t get to have that luxury (of being less visible). It’s already going to be, “Ah, women in music.” [Laughs] It happened because I was just craving the space for queer country to exist and I so missed having that space in queercore and queer punk shows. Not that queer space is the only space that I can feel comfortable in or the only space I want to play, but it really feels like home to me. I felt like I needed to make that space for myself and then other people, too, especially when other people were saying, “Yes! We need this, too.” That inspired me and made me feel like I had to keep going. That’s how we started calling it queer country.
Obviously, like we were just talking about, queer people have been making country all along — we’re going to play our record release show with Lavender Country and Patrick Haggerty made his out, proud, queer country album in 1973! I needed this community and, in order to make community, you have to be willing to announce it. “Okay, this is going to be queer country and that’s who we are and anyone else who feels the same way, come play this show with us!” [Laughs]
I can totally relate to that. I grew up in bluegrass — traditional, straight-ahead bluegrass. I didn’t realize that I craved a space to be queer within bluegrass until I tripped into such a space. You feel this burden lifted that you didn’t realize you were carrying around, just from feeling like the odd person out. It feels so good!
Especially in the way that roots music wants to claim a sort of “home” — a space where everyone can feel welcome, where it isn’t about putting on some kind of airs. This is music that’s about telling the truth about your life, about telling the truth of who you are and where you come from, so it’s important that we’re creating a space together where our lives feel known. I think it’s hard to realize, when you grow up with a certain kind of music, that you’re not being included in it. You know, but you don’t know in your bones, until you’re in a space where you are included. Then you realize how lonesome it felt all along.
That really resonates with me. It feels like the LGBTQ+ community in roots music is starting to network and weave together this strong fabric with each other. I love that.
I feel like we’re making it together right now! It’s amazing!
I want to ask you about “Take Me for a Ride” off of your new record, The Narrow Place. I love that it’s basically bro country, but queer. While listening to it, though, I could imagine someone hearing the lyric “I wanna kiss that pretty mouth and keep on kissing south” sung by a woman to a woman and being appalled by how “inappropriate” it is. Meanwhile, Sam Hunt’s “Body Like a Back Road” has been at number one for a record-breaking 25 weeks!
[Laughs] Yeah, “Body Like a Back Road” is way dirtier! It’s funny: I wasn’t sure, when I was working on that song, how dirty it would end up being, but I knew what I was going for. I think it ended up pretty sweet, as far as saying dirty things go! [Laughs] But “Body Like a Back Road” is filthy! And so catchy.
So how do we bridge this logical gap for people? We talked about this a little bit before — queer people have always been in country; queer people come to country music the same ways as everybody else. How do we show people that don’t want us to “flaunt it in their faces,” that it’s really not any different than Sam Hunt singing about “driving with his eyes closed”?
[Laughs] Hmm. I had this really interesting experience with someone writing a comment on one of our videos on YouTube. They wrote this really nice comment about how much they love the song and the band, but then they basically said exactly what you just said: “I don’t understand why you have to be putting all of these identity politics and labels on things.” I wrestled with it for a while, but then I wrote back saying, “Thank you so much. You know, I wouldn’t describe it as ‘putting labels.’ I would just say that all of my favorite country music and musicians just try to bring the truth of their lives to the music.” The person wrote me back saying, “Oh, I get that. Thank you for taking the time.”
Now, obviously, it doesn’t always go like that! [Laughs] That was like the world’s best case scenario of that conversation. He felt heard, I felt heard, everything went great. I mean, why do you want to hear Tim McGraw and Faith Hill sing “It’s Your Love”? It’s because they love each other! For real and in real ways. It’s beautiful, and you feel the truth of it. Yes, there’s an entirely different question here of how authenticity gets constructed. It’s complicated. That said, I do believe in bringing your truth to the music. If we all agree that that’s something we love about country music, then we’re going to need to find a way to let everybody who makes the music bring their truth.
Photo Credit: Carole Litwin — (from left to right) Tami Johnson, Karen Pittelman, and Elana Redfield
A photo posted by marly Marly Marl (@marlonttwilliams) on
The Simpsons or South Park? I love them both but The Simpsons family have always been there for me. How many seasons now? 26? Still so good.
Dolly or Loretta? Loretta. Always Loretta. Loretta and Conway. Loretta and George. Loretta.
Meat lover's or veggie? Meat lover's. Unless it's too full on. Keep your bacon for the breakfast table.
Photo credit: Martin Martini
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.AcceptRead More
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
