Women’s History Spotlight: Hazel & Alice, Dale Ann Bradley, and More

March is Women’s History Month, and BGS, Good Country, and Real Roots Radio have partnered to highlight a variety of our favorite women in country, bluegrass, and roots music with our Women’s History Spotlight.

Each weekday in March at 11AM Eastern (8AM Pacific) on Real Roots Radio, host Daniel Mullins will be celebrating a powerful woman in roots music during the Women’s History Spotlight segment of The Daniel Mullins Midday Music Spectacular. You can listen to Real Roots Radio online 24/7 or via their FREE app for smartphones or tablets.

Then, we will have a Friday recap here on BGS featuring the artists highlighted throughout the previous week. No list is comprehensive, but we hope to feature some familiar favorites as well as some trailblazers whose music and impact might not be as familiar to you.

This week’s edition of our Women’s History Spotlight features musicians and artists like IBMA Award winner Dale Ann Bradley, the legendary Dolly Parton, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductees Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard, early country hitmaker Kitty Wells, and Kentuckian-West Virginian Molly O’Day. Tune in next week for the final installment of our Women’s History Spotlight!

Dolly Parton

You knew it was coming. You can’t tell the story of country music (or American pop culture) without Dolly Parton. Growing up in Sevier County, Tennessee, she is not just the Queen of the Smoky Mountains, but quite possible the Queen of the Universe (if there was such a ridiculous title). Her rags-to-riches story will continue to be told and re-told for generations. Aside from her beautiful voice and philanthropic work (the millions of books that she gives to children through Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library is her proudest achievement), there are numerous other aspects about Dolly Parton that are remarkable.

Her business acumen is frequently praised, but it still bears repeating. Aside from her numerous endeavors (including Dollywood), it’s often worth remembering that she fought to regain control of her own career and decision-making from Porter Wagoner after her star began shining brighter than his scope of influence. (Remember, it was the ending of this business relationship that was the impetus behind Dolly writing one of her most famous songs, “I Will Always Love You.”) Call it a business decision or just genius, but Dolly’s ability to juggle embracing her role as an undeniable sex symbol and avoiding being labeled as “unwholesome” by conservative crowds has to be one of the most difficult tightrope walks in American entertainment.

Vanity Fair’s 1991 article “Good Golly, Miss Dolly did a deep dive into the dichotomy of Dolly’s role as a sort of clean sex symbol: “Dolly, in her openness, demystifies sex. ‘One of the things that makes the image work is that people understand that I look one way, but am another, that there’s a very real person underneath this artificial look,’ she theorizes. ‘It’s not like I am a joke. People can laugh at me, but they don’t make fun.’ … Indeed, Dolly Parton has become the billboard for sex without being the product itself.”

It is the way that she ensures that the “very real person” that is Dolly Rebecca Parton doesn’t get lost in the glitz, glamor, and boob jokes that is part of the reason why she is so endearing and universally beloved by folks from all walks of life; in a world where polarization is en vogue, Dolly is one of the few topics on which everyone agrees! She epitomizes the best of us.


Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard

Members of the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame, Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard were an unlikely pair who blasted down doors for women in bluegrass. Hazel hailed from the mountains of West Virginia, while Alice was from across the country in Seattle, Washington. Alice attended Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio, where she was exposed to folk and bluegrass music. While a student there, she helped coordinate bringing The Osborne Brothers to the Antioch campus, making history as the first major bluegrass concert held on a college campus! After college, she wound up in the D.C. area, becoming active in their flourishing bluegrass scene, where she became friends and musical partners with Hazel Dickens – who had moved to the region with her family to find factory work years earlier.

Hazel & Alice became some of the first female bluegrass bandleaders and recorded some classic albums for Smithsonian Folkways and Rounder Records before embarking on successful solo careers by the mid-’70s. With Hazel’s mountain sound and Alice’s more folk-oriented sensibilities, their music appealed to both traditional bluegrass fans and those who were being introduced to the genre via the Folk Revival. Their original material which highlighted a woman’s perspective were critical in bringing a voice to women in the bluegrass canon. Decades later, their music and legacy is still rippling across American roots music, with artists as diverse as Rhiannon Giddens and Dudley Connell still celebrating their influence and impact.


Molly O’Day 

Born Lois LaVerne Williamson, country pioneer Molly O’Day was born in Pike County, Kentucky. She would become a popular radio star in West Virginia by the early 1940s, eventually leading Molly O’Day & The Cumberland Mountain Folks. Her band crossed paths with Hank Williams on the radio circuit and Molly even sang quite a few of his songs on radio and later in the recording studio. Molly learned “Tramp On The Street” from Hank Williams and it would land her a recording contract with Columbia Records. (Fun Fact: Her band at the time of her first Columbia recording session featured a young Mac Wiseman on bass!)

In an era when the term “hillbilly music” was still commonly used, Molly’s music, retroactively, could have country and bluegrass labels applied to it. Her powerful voice felt just as at home on an ancient balled like “Poor Ellen Smith” as it did on soul-stirring gospel songs like “Matthew 24.” By the early 1950s, Molly and her husband grew weary of life in the limelight and essentially retired from the music business, both dedicating their life to ministry. She would record a few gospel albums for some small record labels in the ensuing years, but her final album was released in 1960. She would pass away in the late 1980s, but she left a mark on country music and earned the respect of her peers at a time when the list of female country pioneers was relatively short.


Dale Ann Bradley

Revered as one of the most heartfelt bluegrass singers of her generation, this Kentucky songbird’s career started in earnest as a member of the Renfro Valley cast in her home state of Kentucky. The Renfro Valley Barn Dance was an extremely popular barn-dance style radio program in the 1930s and it spurred the creation of Renfro Valley as a country music entertainment destination in Kentucky. This helped kickstart the careers of folks like Steve Gulley, Jeff Parker, Dale Ann Bradley, and more by the 1990s.

While at Renfro Valley, Bradley would eventually join The New Coon Creek Girls, one of bluegrass’s only “all-girl” bands at the time, and aptly named after The Coon Creek Girls, a pioneering female string band of the 1930s who also started on The Renfro Valley Barn Dance.

Dale Ann’s soulful voice, largely influence by the Primitive Baptist tradition which she grew up around, quickly gripped the bluegrass world, leading to a successful solo career for the last three decades. In addition to recording songs that hearken to those familiar with mountain people and mountain ways, the appeal of Dale Ann’s voice has led her to adapt songs from outside of the genre to her style of bluegrass, tackling tunes from Tom Petty, Bobbie Gentry, The Grateful Dead, Jim Croce, and everyone in-between! Her diverse material has led me (and many others) to the conclusion that no matter the material, if Dale Ann is singing it, I already know I’m going to like it!


Kitty Wells

Hailed as the original Queen of Country Music, Kitty Wells hit a massive reset button on the role of women in country music after the massive success of her breakthrough hit, “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels.” Written by J.D. Miller, it was penned as the antithesis of Hank Thompson’s hit, “The Wild Side of Life.” After writing the song, the search began for a woman to sing it. Kitty Wells had pursued a country career, to little avail, and had essentially consented that maybe it wasn’t in the cards for her, when she was contacted to record the song. “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels” would become the first Number One hit by solo female in country music history, and its status as one of the most iconic country songs of all time only grows.

This explosion of success led to many other hit records by Kitty Wells, and opened the doors for those who would follow in her wake like Jean Shepard, Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton and more! You can’t celebrate Women’s History Month without honoring the gal who famously sang the line, “It’s a shame that all the blame is on us women!” (Still kind of bummed that Margot Robbie didn’t sing that line in Barbie. Seems like a missed opportunity to me!)

As an added bonus, here’s another cool version from 1993, where Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn, and Tammy Wynette recruited Kitty Wells to join them on a new version of this country classic on their collaborative album, appropriately entitled Honky Tonk Angels.


 

WATCH: Erik Vincent Huey, “That’s What Jukeboxes Are For” (Ft. Laura Cantrell)

Artist: Erik Vincent Huey
Hometown: Morgantown, West Virginia
Song: “That’s What Jukeboxes Are For”
Album: Appalachian Gothic
Release Date: January 20, 2023
Label: Appalachian AF/The Orchard

In Their Words: “Willie Nelson has a quote about jukeboxes: ‘99% of the world’s lovers are not with their first choice. That’s what makes the jukeboxes play.’ This song is an exploration of that sentiment. My grandfather became a bartender after he was injured in the coal mines. I spent my weekends as a young kid in his bar and used all my quarters on the pinball machine and the jukebox. Ever since, I’ve been fascinated with old jukeboxes and their curation — how one machine can hold the entire universe of songs that you can hear in a particular bar. I envisioned it as a George Jones-type ballad but Eric ‘Roscoe’ Ambel — who produced the record — said the song should have an old-fashioned honky-tonk Conway Twitty/Loretta Lynn duet vibe, which you can hear from Roscoe’s opening guitar riff. There are about a dozen classic ’60s and ’70s country songs referenced in the lyrics; I’ve even made a playlist of them. Roscoe thought his friend, the incredible alt-country chanteuse Laura Cantrell, would be perfect, and on this song, Laura sounds like a cross between Kitty Wells and Edith Piaf. You can hear the teardrops splash in the whiskey when she sings.” — Erik Vincent Huey

WATCH: The Royal Hounds, “Pickin’ in the Graveyard”

Artist name: The Royal Hounds
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Pickin’ in the Graveyard”
Album: Whole Lot of Nothin’
Release Date: October 15, 2021

In Their Words: “When I was learning to play bass, I used to go to a bluegrass festival called Old Timer’s Day. It was next to a graveyard. There were so many pickers that many groups would spill over into the graveyard and have pickin’ circles out there. I always loved the idea for a song called ‘Pickin’ in the Graveyard.’ Up the street from where I live is Spring Hill Cemetery. Lots of notables are buried there: Roy Acuff, Earl Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Floyd Cramer, Kitty Wells, Hank Snow, and my favorite, John Hartford. I just love the notion that the ghosts of the musicians in this graveyard come out at night and have a grand pickin’ party. The final verse is kind of an homage to John Hartford. In the song, I say, ‘Lower me down in a Batman cloak/ we’ll all ride to heaven in a river boat.’ This is a reference to the fact that Hartford was accidentally buried in a Batman cloak and he had a lifelong fascination with river boats. He even had a license to sail them.” — Scott Hinds, The Royal Hounds


Photo credit: Bill Foster

Kitty Wells at 100: Still the Queen of Country

Kitty Wells, who shall always remain the Queen of Country Music to its most traditional fans, would have marked her 100th birthday today. Her legacy is secure, due to the 1952 smash, “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels.”

Wells lived to be 92 years old, long enough to enjoy an exceptional exhibit about her life and career at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in 2008. The hometown salute — she was born in Nashville — brought her back into a much-deserved spotlight one last time before her death in 2012.

And to think, she just about quit the music industry altogether after initial dismal response to her early records. Even though she recorded it with a $125 paycheck foremost on her mind, according to the Los Angeles Times, “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels” turned things around in a big way.

Beloved by fans and her peers, Wells was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1976, while her singles were still charting. In all, Wells placed 81 singles on the Billboard chart, including classics like “Making Believe,” “Heartbreak U.S.A.,” and “I Can’t Stop Loving You.” Here are some of her finest moments on record.

k.d. lang: Flawless, Fearless

Just about a year ago, legendary music journalist Holly Gleason asked me to contribute an essay to a book she was editing titled Woman Walk the Line: How the Women in Country Music Changed Our Lives. The premise was to have a bunch of female writers explore female country artists and the impact they had on our lives. It didn’t take long for me to pick k.d. lang, as I simply would not be who I am today without her. The book — which includes essays by Taylor Swift, Rosanne Cash, Grace Potter, Aubrie Sellers, Kim Ruehl, Ronni Lundy, and many others — comes out on September 15 via the University of Texas Press, and I couldn’t be more proud to be part of it. In honor of its release — and the 25th anniversary of k.d.’s seminal album, Ingenue — here’s an excerpt from my piece.

It wasn’t the first time I heard k.d. lang’s voice that carved out a forever place for her in my heart. It was the first time I saw a photo of her for, in it, I saw a reflection of who I was or, more likely, who I wanted to be. It was 1990, maybe 1991, and media representation of those of us who are “masculine-of-center” was sparse, at best. But there was k.d., handsome and heartfelt, staking a claim for all of us … even those still nestled safely in our closets.

Actually, in 1991, k.d. wasn’t out yet, either. Not publicly, at least.

Musically, k.d. put her reverence and respect for the form and its icons at center stage — her first band was called the Reclines, after all. But, stylistically, she injected a sharp wit and a cow-punk ethos into her earliest works, much of which she learned from another country legend — Minnie Pearl. On her first few albums, k.d. still considered herself to be a performance artist, playing with gender by sporting a crew cut while donning a cowgirl skirt and horn-rimmed glasses. By the late ’80s, her look had settled into the tomboy version of a cowboy, letting denim, boots, and short hair frame her prairie-born good looks.

Because her talent was undeniable — and she wasn’t yet waving a rainbow flag — country music fans could abide by their own version of “don’t ask, don’t tell” and just enjoy her utterly stunning voice. Heck, Patsy Cline’s beloved producer, Owen Bradley, helmed Shadowland and recruited Kitty Wells, Loretta Lynn, and Brenda Lee to sing on it. Doesn’t get much more classic country than that.

But then, in 1990, the avowed vegan caused an uproar among said classic country folk for appearing in a “Meat Stinks” ad for PETA, earning herself a lifetime ban from country radio. A sign proclaiming Consort, Alberta, to be ”Home of k.d. lang” was even burned in effigy. Naturally, k.d. was bothered by it all, but she never wavered from her convictions. Instead, she doubled down.

Within a couple of months of that kerfuffle, k.d. was waltzing toward the adult contemporary music space with a contribution to the Red Hot + Blue Cole Porter tribute compilation benefitting AIDS research and relief. Her performance of “So in Love” was a highlight of the platinum-selling album, showcasing her extraordinary gift as an interpreter of song. She finalized her transition in March of 1992 with the absolutely captivating collection that is Ingenue. Flourishes of pedal steel here and there were, really, the last remaining vestiges of country music in k.d.’s sound.

In June of 1992, before “Constant Craving” led the album to multi-platinum sales and a third Grammy Award, k.d. came out as gay in The Advocate, confirming the open secret that everyone already knew, but dared not speak. That year — along with the Indigo Girls’ — k.d.’s courage and conviction, artistry and activism made a bigger impact on my life than anyone before or since.

I still remember sitting on the edge of my seat in the first row of the balcony on August 7, 1992 for the entirety of her first-of-two performances at the Universal Amphitheater in Los Angeles. Having already come out, k.d. introduced the gender-play that is “Miss Chateleine” with a comic bit meant to put everyone in the crowd at ease: “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you, something that’s been on my chest for quite some time. So I’m just gonna conjure up the gumption and spit it out.” [drum roll] “I… AM… A… LLLLL… AWRENCE WELK FAN!”

The show was one of the best I’ve ever seen. EVER. And it was a show: k.d. is not just an incredible singer; she’s a captivating entertainer, paying attention to every detail, from the punchlines to the performances. Summing up his review of the show for the Los Angeles Times, Chris Willman wrote, “Even the most die-hard meat industry activist would be hard-pressed not to switch-hit and walk away from this one a close t… LLLLLLLANG FANATIC.”

Less than a month after that fateful night, I too became an avowed vegan and, in November, I became an out queer. Doubtful I could’ve, or would’ve, done either without having k.d.’s lead to follow, without having her image to reflect. Seeing k.d. stand so gloriously in her truths inspired me to find and live my own. Though I didn’t yet have the capacity to understand or accept it, I’d known since I was a kid that I was queer. But growing up in rural Louisiana did more damage than good, where understanding and acceptance were concerned. (Funnily enough, the same could be said of not eating meat: Of all the left-leaning things in my life — moving to Los Angeles, working with rock stars, being a homo, living in a meditation ashram, and being a vegan — the one thing my Southern-born and bred father could never get a handle on was me not eating meat.)

So when I finally saw someone who looked like me, lived like me, and loved like me, I started moving toward the light that she was shining. Turning toward that light meant turning into myself — digging into my own identity and drumming up my own courage. That process of discovery, sparked almost entirely by k.d., uncovered who I was at my core … and who I continue to be today — an Eastern philosophy-abiding, activist-minded queer who works in music and doesn’t eat meat.

Though I haven’t been as dedicated a follower as I should have been, the past 15 or so years have seen the release of several more k.d. collections and collaborations, including her 2016 project with Neko Case and Laura Veirs, aptly monikered case/lang/veirs. When their tour brought them to Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium on August 6, 2016 — the Mother Church of country music and long-time home of the Grand Ole Opry — k.d. greeted the crowd with a big ol’ Minnie Pearl-style “HOOOOOW-DYYYY!” before reminiscing about how she’d been kicked out of the Ryman on several occasions. Both Case and Veirs seemed to understand the gravitas of k.d.’s triumphant return, and everyone else in the room understood it, too, by the end of her rafter-raising cover of Neil Young’s “Helpless.”

As soon as I heard the song’s opening plunks, I let out a big ol’ “WHOOP!!!” and moved to the edge of my front-row balcony seat, just as I’d done 24 years (minus one day) earlier. And I hung on every note, remembering all that she has meant to me over the passing decades. Quite simply, k.d. lang is one of the greatest singers of any generation, with flawless pitch and fearless control. She is also one of the greatest influences on my life, with flawless talent and fearless style.

LISTEN: Jacob Tovar, ‘One Track Minded Baby’

A lot of artists employ a throwback sound when making their records, but not all of them have a voice that naturally matches up to it. Not so for Oklahoma's Jacob Tovar. His voice sounds like it should be crackling out of an AM radio or a jukebox between Patsy Cline and Kitty Wells. This guy's brand of classic country is capital “T” Throwback and with good reason.

Tovar grew up on a farm in Perry, OK, working the land and, quite literally, riding the range. An honest-to-goodness singing cowboy in an era of frat boy wannabes, Tovar pursued his musical potential after a move to Tulsa landed him in the local honky tonk scene. Now, he and his band can see their Jacob Tovar and the Saddle Tramps eponymous debut album just out on the horizon. The second single is "One Track Minded Baby."

“I wrote 'One Track Minded Baby' about my baby girl — she was about one-and-a-half at the time. I take care of her during the day, and she is insistent upon being in my space every second. She was following me around to the point that I couldn't even go to the restroom alone, and this song was inspired by those moments spent with her.

Jacob Tovar & the Saddle Tramps drops on August 28 via Horton Records.


 

Photo by Phil Clarkin