Music is an odd beast. Humanity has always used it to transmit the unconveyable. Something about melodic rhythms tap into something more than the sum of the parts and actively create. Song may tap into feelings of jubilance and make you dance. It can blow on the delicate kindling of the embers within the soul and create a burning fire of feelings. It creates ambiance where none exists and gives a sparkle to even the dullest of days. Sometimes we hear a song, and it taps into these deep feelings. Other times we turn music on not for the music but more for its effects on something else.
A fair method to categorize why people turn to music in emotional times is to lump it into two distinct categories. Escapism and Realism.
Escapism is arguably the dominant strain in the modern music scene, and it will be the focus of today’s post. People turn to the celebrity-driven culture of popular music to drown out the pains of day-to-day existence, dance away the sorrow, and connect to something bigger than themselves. Existential chicken and egg pondering left to the side for the moment, contemporary popular music genres often espouse unrealistic scenarios of lavish party-driven lifestyles and modern country music is no different with its fantastical portrayals of country life. A prime example is the characterization of women in popular country music.
Rural women seem to never get a break. In the early 2010s, the average woman referenced in song was a caricature of male fantasy. The latter part of the decade was a thematic backlash to the Bro-Country movement. The movement dominating the airwaves in the current era is typified by near overtly religious worship of women in mid-tempo “boyfriend country” ballads. Although a mild improvement on the thinly veiled misogynist objectification of Bro-Country, in no way is it a more realistic portrayal of the people that occupy half the world population. The escapism shifted from teenage fantasy to the desperate longings of near middle-age men with an unrealistic perspective bordering on the patronizing. Songs with names such as God Whispered Your Name and Worship You are commonplace. This is the current Nashville product.
Escapism has its place. As a matter of personal preference, I connect with more reality-based stories that hold up a mirror to the feats and foibles of humanity, but the value of losing oneself in a moment of ‘vibes’ cannot be ignored and furthermore ought not to be
Particular songs connect themselves to moments in time. Certain songs are held dear, not for the instrumental prowess displayed within nor for the well- crafted songwriting but purely because the song happened to play at the opportune moment. Something as simple as easing a fleeting moment of boredom can be a moment that connects a person to a song forever.
Rodney Atkins’ 2019 comeback record Caught Up in the Country was an unmitigated disaster of a project. His trademark gravelly tone was swallowed up by overproduced electronic drum loops and massive but tasteless electric guitar riffs shoved to the top of the mix.
Among the chief offenders on the album was the track What Lonely Looks Like. Whatever remains of Atkins’ range is barely on display. The only pizzazz in the vocals comes from the female vocal harmonies randomly tossed in at convenient points throughout the song. Everyone’s favorite snap track beat exasperatingly continues all throughout the song. The electric guitars roar in mathematically perfect riffs that don’t allow any room for the instrument to breathe and add color to the track. The whole mix devolves into a mushy, beat-driven paste of a song with stabs of high harmony to break up the monotony. Essentially, everything I like about country music is not on display in this song.
Nonetheless, whenever the song comes on, I get a jolt of energy and a positive emotional response. It all goes back to the first listen.
The first time I heard the tune, I was in an airport waiting to be picked up. It was a typically brutal cold winter night in the Midwest. Between my aggravation at the ride being late and the cold weather, I was in a terrible mood.
I was looking for a distracting song to alleviate my mood and the at-the-time brand-new single from Atkins came on. At that moment, I didn’t need satisfying lyrical narratives or delicately crafted steel guitar licks. I wanted to get my blood pumping and my feet moving. If there is one thing that to the exclusion of any other, the Atkins album- along with most modern Pop-Country- was crafted for, it was a moment like this. First, I was tapping my toes along to the infectious beat, then my head started bobbing and within a minute or two I was dancing along the sidewalk of the airport terminal. A few repeat listens later, my annoyance at my situation had disappeared and I was vibing out hard.
The car came about ten minutes later, and the driver remarked that I must have been cold from being outside for so long. “No”, I replied, “it was no time at all.”
Joe