Opry vs. Ozzfest

I'm a fan of all styles of music, but when it comes to country I am a little more finicky with what I’m listening to. I love Dwight Yoakam, Johnny Cash, Crystal Gayle, Dolly Parton, Charley Pride, and I am really into a lot of the early 90’s country. But, the other day while I was working in a small-town
store, I got a larger than usual dose of up-to-date country music listening. I noticed that I wouldn’t have recognized some songs as country save for the trademark southern twang, and my mind automatically jumped to how music is categorized. And then I started thinking about how genres and labels seem to split and divide not only the artists, but the attitudes of the listeners.

People automatically jump to the conclusion that Marilyn Manson, known for his shock performances, is “evil” merely because of his appearance and the rumors they’ve heard concerning his alleged on-and-off-stage antics. The Smiths tend to garner less scrutiny merely because they had a more clean-cut look, but if parents were to listen to their lyrics, they might be worried about their kids being exposed to something with such macabre overtones. When people think of Prince, the first thing that usually comes to mind is Purple Rain and unless you’re a hard-core fan (or went clubbin’ in the ‘90s) you might not associate him with songs like P Control or Gett Off. I’m not a huge fan of Slayer, but an ex-boyfriend of mine was and explained to me that their song “Mandatory Suicide” was about going to war, and from the lyrics, I would conjecture Vietnam.

Many genres of music are automatically labeled as being too violent, vulgar, or obscene, particularly for kids and teens to listen to. So what is an acceptable style of music for young malleable minds?

Country music. It’s Americana Apple Pie. It’s about the working man, love, heartache, and all of the things that everyday average people go through. At least, that’s how society tends to view it on the surface.

Carrie Underwood spoke for all women scorned when she sang about how she flattened her cheating ex-boyfriend’s tires. I have to wonder if Courtney Love would have had the same positive reception from the public if she’d done a version of that song, or if even Britney Spears would have been able to get away with it. Somehow we’re able to sympathize more with Carrie Underwood. Could it be because of her fresh-faced image of innocence? The public has an existing negative perception of Britney and Courtney as “bad girls” who are always getting into trouble and the debate as to whether or not they are role models might again be the next hot topic all over again. However, destroying an ex’s vehicle is admittedly a fantasy that most women have, even topping the ever-popular “George Clooney” daydream, so would it really matter who sang it? The difference is that most of us wouldn’t act upon the impulse to act upon such an impulsive fantasy. Unless it were the one involving Mr. Clooney.

The Smiths had “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want,” and Alan Jackson sang, “Here in the Real World.” The songs were about different situations but had a similar vibe. In fact, I think a lot of The Smith’s lyrics could have easily suited country music, particularly Johnny Cash, and vice-versa. Both Cash and The Smiths were able to delve into human emotion and speak the things that we all feel, or have felt, at one time or another. The main difference is that Cash had a bit of an “outlaw” style, with drinking, smoking, and shooting a man “just to watch him die,” and Morrissey, frontman of The Smiths, was able to sing about death and dying without the usual reservations and discomfort that most of us have when it comes to the subject. However, their messages of loneliness and despair brought on by the mortal condition we know as “being human” marked them as kindred spirits, though genres apart. The interesting thing about Cash, though, was that he is loved by those who are into country, and his music garners respect from self-proclaimed metalheads as well, and everyone in between. It may have something to do with his lack of fear to cross genres, such as covering the Nine Inch Nails song, “Hurt.”

Sublime and Vicki Lawrence are completely different in style, but “The Night That the Lights Went Out in Georgia,” which was later covered by Reba McEntire, could almost be a third-person account of Sublime’s first-person narrative “Santeria.” Almost, but not quite, if you know how each song ends. I do think that “Santeria” is overlooked because you have to get past the happy-go-lucky melody and really listen to the words, but the same holds true for Vicky Lawrence’s catchy chorus.

What really surprised me is that country listeners who openly spoke about how they couldn’t stand to listen to that “noise” when referring to rap music instantly fell in love with Cowboy Troy from Big and Rich. The intrinsically wholesome charm of the label of country music seemed to sidetrack people from the sexually overt lyrics and objectification of women in the song “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.” I wondered, however, if Snoop Dogg had created noise called, “Save an Impala, Ride a G,” if it would have caused more of an uproar from men and women alike.

Several Country and Western artists, most notably Toby Keith, have belted out songs about going to war with the enemy using metaphors and hyperboles, and there are some songs which have been more low-key about what it’s like to be an “American Soldier.” However, Slayer’s “Mandatory Suicide” painted the harsh reality of the horrors of being smack-dab in the center of violent warfare.

If Eminem had “wished upon a star for a brand new car,” but “got tired of wishin’ and stole one,” he might be met with more antagonism than Confederate Railroad for their classic, “Jesus and Mama Will Always Love Me.”
Going back to The Smiths with their song “That Joke Isn’tFunny Anymore,”

there is a blatancy about it that might not sit quite right with listeners who are unfamiliar with their music. However, labeling it as “unfit” to listen to because it has a certain amount of discomfort is ignoring the truth in the message. Mark Wills put out a song that I feel was equally as thought provoking called “Don’t Laugh at Me,” but with more of an explanation that we can relate to on an objective level. The biggest difference between these songs is that The Smiths voiced it from a stance of someone being bullied, and Mark Wills' was almost an appeal to the actual bullies. However, since I am not an authority on the actual meaning of The Smiths’ metaphorical lyrics, I can’t say for certain that the lyrics were as superficial as they seem because the true gravity could only be explained by Morrissey himself.

Why is it that human nature automatically dictates us to rate something, such as music, by a preexisting bias we have for or against an artist or how he or she looks? If Johnny Cash wasn’t a bad influence, why is it that Marilyn Manson is? Many times, actual fans of the music know and understand the music better than someone who hears a snippet of what may sound violent, and sometimes what sounds innocent may not be as peaches and cream as the melody or a silvery voice suggests. If women around the world weren’t slashing the tires of cheaters everywhere, why would we believe that people were going to follow in the footsteps of Britney Spears or Miley Cyrus?

If we take away the familiar look and sound of the artists and instruments---and read the lyrics in plain text---would we still react the same way we do when the words are stripped of all audial attributes that we can dissect and categorize? What it really comes down to, in my opinion, is this: Music is music. There is good and bad in it, but I don’t believe that lyrics or artists necessarily influence or inspire people to do bad things. That’s what our friends are for.

By: Joslyn Corvis