This is not a horse. It is a zebra. It looks a little like a horse. It acts like a horse. It even shares some close genealogy with a horse. But, it is not a horse. Likewise, country music is not popular music. No matter how hard it tries, it's not. I think people today are consistently confused about the reality of country music. In fact, I think I'm confused.
It was country week here in Detroit, with two IndyCar races and a country music festival in town. They even blocked off the streets for two guys in a truck cutting donuts on around Cadillac Square. I saw more cowboy boots and belt buckles than I saw in Denver for the stock show. These weren't cowboys. These were cowboy wannabes. And, though it was nice to be surrounded by familiar culture for a bit, I couldn't help but wonder, "Where have all the cowboys gone?"
I don't want to give Detroit a bad name here. Detroit is a town that loves music. From its Motown history to last weekends "Movement" Electronic Dance Music Festival, from the Detroit Opera House to the Iggy Azalea playing at the club down the street, from The Flaming Lips at the Fillmore to the Salvation Army Band playing in Cadillac Square, you can find someone playing every type of music imaginable. The iconic Fox Theater is here! Yet, country is incredibly absent from this landscape.
I don't mean to be crass, but I think the charade performed by Big and Rich this weekend borders somewhere between absurd and an ass-clown. I know... I know... It's all part of the show. I'm not even attempting to criticize their music, and I can appreciate a performance as well, but it seemed to me that there was a desire to water down the "twang" to suit their urban audience. Cowboy Troy is always going to rap at their shows. A marching band and dancers are par-for-the-course as well, and I assume that's why they were invited. Also, they were opening up for The Band Perry, so I can give their hype machine a break in this circumstance.
So then let's talk about The Band Perry. They played the hook from a Pitbull song originally perfomed by Ke$ha. You know the one, "It's going down. I'm yelling timberrrrr." I'll just pause and let you soak that in for a minute.
(60 second pause....and we're back.)
Yes, they played Ke$ha, and it was the song most intensely sung by the audience. In fact, I'd venture a guess that a full 50% of all time during the two shows was used to play covers of rock, hip-hop, and pop songs. My wife (who doesn't listen to much country music) enjoyed it. I'd say the majority of people there were much like her. The demographics were predictable to me. The ages varied. I saw infants as well as those over 65. I counted only one African American in the audience. She was there with her boyfriend. She was the only racial minority I saw. All of this is normal for a country concert in the Midwest from my experience. What was surprising was the number of tattoos, gauged ears, and pierced everythings.
This was one of the motleyest crews I've ever witnessed. These weren't you're ordinary ex-military or Christian cross tattoos either. I saw one girl with a Snap-On toolbox spilling nuts and bolts down the back of her arm. Neck and face tattoos were common as well. When you combine this with several Coors Light tallboys things get interesting. Sure, there were some good-ole-boys in cutoffs and jeans with Skoal rings, but they comprised the minority of the concert.
What I'm trying to say is that a combination of the bands "pop"ularizing their sets, coupled with an audience of urban rednecks and wannabe cowboys, equaled a concert experience that lacked the general camaraderie \experienced at these types of events. I felt out of place, and I usually blend into any crowd. The exception was the Josh Thompson show on the second stage. Though the crowd was much smaller, it was an honest set of new and old songs with an audience excited and together in the experience. I'd see him again without question.
So what am I left with, as the Urban Cattleman, alone in a place I thought I'd feel at home? It seems to me, that wherever I go, finding the milieu of the rural life is an inexact science. The place I assumed to find people who share my view of the world was full of people only there for the show. Few, I would guess, would lack my conviction for expanding the understanding and empathy of all people. I assume most would say something like, "'Merica!"
When I value the rural way of life so deeply, and know the joy and wisdom that it can convey (especially through its musical tradition), I can't help but be distressed when it's put aside for the benefit of ticket sales. I'm a capitalist, and I can't readily fault musicians for wanting to make money, but I wish they'd leave a little of rural America, of the namesake country, in their "Country" music.
I have found the sense of small town life here in Detroit, though. I've found it in community grocery stores, and in churches, and in corner bars. Anywhere people care about discussing their lives you can find it. Anywhere people work hard, play hard, and care for their neighbor you can find it. Anywhere friends gather around a bonfire to share a beer and a story you can find it. Anywhere churches still sing "Amazing Grace" and mean every word you can find it. Good people are everywhere, and that is what rural life is all about--caring for your brother.
It was country week here in Detroit, with two IndyCar races and a country music festival in town. They even blocked off the streets for two guys in a truck cutting donuts on around Cadillac Square. I saw more cowboy boots and belt buckles than I saw in Denver for the stock show. These weren't cowboys. These were cowboy wannabes. And, though it was nice to be surrounded by familiar culture for a bit, I couldn't help but wonder, "Where have all the cowboys gone?"
I don't want to give Detroit a bad name here. Detroit is a town that loves music. From its Motown history to last weekends "Movement" Electronic Dance Music Festival, from the Detroit Opera House to the Iggy Azalea playing at the club down the street, from The Flaming Lips at the Fillmore to the Salvation Army Band playing in Cadillac Square, you can find someone playing every type of music imaginable. The iconic Fox Theater is here! Yet, country is incredibly absent from this landscape.
I don't mean to be crass, but I think the charade performed by Big and Rich this weekend borders somewhere between absurd and an ass-clown. I know... I know... It's all part of the show. I'm not even attempting to criticize their music, and I can appreciate a performance as well, but it seemed to me that there was a desire to water down the "twang" to suit their urban audience. Cowboy Troy is always going to rap at their shows. A marching band and dancers are par-for-the-course as well, and I assume that's why they were invited. Also, they were opening up for The Band Perry, so I can give their hype machine a break in this circumstance.
So then let's talk about The Band Perry. They played the hook from a Pitbull song originally perfomed by Ke$ha. You know the one, "It's going down. I'm yelling timberrrrr." I'll just pause and let you soak that in for a minute.
(60 second pause....and we're back.)
Yes, they played Ke$ha, and it was the song most intensely sung by the audience. In fact, I'd venture a guess that a full 50% of all time during the two shows was used to play covers of rock, hip-hop, and pop songs. My wife (who doesn't listen to much country music) enjoyed it. I'd say the majority of people there were much like her. The demographics were predictable to me. The ages varied. I saw infants as well as those over 65. I counted only one African American in the audience. She was there with her boyfriend. She was the only racial minority I saw. All of this is normal for a country concert in the Midwest from my experience. What was surprising was the number of tattoos, gauged ears, and pierced everythings.
This was one of the motleyest crews I've ever witnessed. These weren't you're ordinary ex-military or Christian cross tattoos either. I saw one girl with a Snap-On toolbox spilling nuts and bolts down the back of her arm. Neck and face tattoos were common as well. When you combine this with several Coors Light tallboys things get interesting. Sure, there were some good-ole-boys in cutoffs and jeans with Skoal rings, but they comprised the minority of the concert.
What I'm trying to say is that a combination of the bands "pop"ularizing their sets, coupled with an audience of urban rednecks and wannabe cowboys, equaled a concert experience that lacked the general camaraderie \experienced at these types of events. I felt out of place, and I usually blend into any crowd. The exception was the Josh Thompson show on the second stage. Though the crowd was much smaller, it was an honest set of new and old songs with an audience excited and together in the experience. I'd see him again without question.
So what am I left with, as the Urban Cattleman, alone in a place I thought I'd feel at home? It seems to me, that wherever I go, finding the milieu of the rural life is an inexact science. The place I assumed to find people who share my view of the world was full of people only there for the show. Few, I would guess, would lack my conviction for expanding the understanding and empathy of all people. I assume most would say something like, "'Merica!"
When I value the rural way of life so deeply, and know the joy and wisdom that it can convey (especially through its musical tradition), I can't help but be distressed when it's put aside for the benefit of ticket sales. I'm a capitalist, and I can't readily fault musicians for wanting to make money, but I wish they'd leave a little of rural America, of the namesake country, in their "Country" music.
I have found the sense of small town life here in Detroit, though. I've found it in community grocery stores, and in churches, and in corner bars. Anywhere people care about discussing their lives you can find it. Anywhere people work hard, play hard, and care for their neighbor you can find it. Anywhere friends gather around a bonfire to share a beer and a story you can find it. Anywhere churches still sing "Amazing Grace" and mean every word you can find it. Good people are everywhere, and that is what rural life is all about--caring for your brother.