Today: My Secret Addiction

In spite of a Christian upbringing and the example of good parents, I have these proclivities, these tendencies. It’s no use denying it. On occasion I succumb to a weakness that would shame my parents. If the people with whom I work knew my dark secret, conditions in the office would become intolerable, and for good reason.



Yes, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I love country music. No, I don’t mean “like” or “appreciate,” it’s full on passion, ardor, and devotion. Kind of makes you cringe, no? But it’s true. It began, as do many similarly serious sins, with curiosity.

One Saturday afternoon in September, Dad and I were motoring up Rockwood in the Dart. The dirt bikes were bouncing in the trailer behind the car after spending a couple of hours at the Nine Mile off-road vehicle park. Restless for entertainment, like most teenage boys, I searched fruitlessly for some good music on the radio. Again and again, my hand rotated the dial on the FM adaptor we had installed under the dash. Then, suddenly without warning, the clear, long whine of a slide guitar broke the static. I hesitated—almost imperceptibly—but long enough. Dad grimaced.

Not missing his reaction, I laughed a little nervously, “Lousy music, huh?” I resumed the search and eventually caught the end of “Sweet Home Alabama.” I don’t believe that Dad ever suspected anything, not then and perhaps not even now. But in my heart, I knew that was not the last time I would listen to the slide guitar.

Sometime, perhaps returning from Little Caesar’s one night after work when all I had for company would be the cold, vinyl-clad interior of the Dart, then, furtively . . . surreptitiously, I could tune the radio to local country station and “Boot Scoot Boogie” until my ears bled. Yes, some things are better left in the dark.

Looking back, it’s clear that my transgression was compounded by choice of friends. Many of them lived in suitably agrarian regions where listening to Country music was more than acceptable—indeed for some of them it was an expectation. It forms part of rural America’s social contract. These same “friends” introduced me to the country one-step swing, aerials and all.


In High School, my exposure was limited to Alan Jackson, Garth Brooks and Mary Chapin Carpenter. I knew at most five country songs. That is, until I met Rachael, who took me in the back door of Country Music: Bluegrass. She had an Alison Krauss CD. I still remember listening to the tracks on that album, over and over again, as Rachael slept in the passenger seat and I drove through the moon-drenched Arizona desert in December.

Country music is no more a monolithic genre than is Rock or even Alternative any more. There are movements and sub-genres enough to puzzle the best anthologist. Some of the music is very commercial, almost corporate. The performing artist is simply a front for other song writers, a brand and an vehicle for merchandising t-shirts and lunch boxes. I lump folks like Taylor Swift, Tim McGraw, Shania Twain and the Dixie Chicks in this category. Whether these folks believe what they sing anymore than I believe Alice Cooper ever was a "nice guy" is highly suspect.

On the other hand, from my vantage point as an outsider to the country music scene, there is a second, more organic group. This group consists of artists with more of an acoustic, earthy sound. They write their own music and perform in different types of venues. I’m thinking of groups like Alison Krauss, the Be Good Tanyas, and the Wailin’ Jennys. For me, it's easier to appreciate these artists for the flavor of their music, for their artistry, and for their conviction.

And somehow despite the differences, there is something about both groups that draws me in. And it's not just the slide guitar. After all, in the age of Alt Country, groups like the Gin Blossoms, Neil Young, and even Matthew Sweet use the slide guitar. No, I think what appeals to me about some types of country music (for the record, I will NEVER understand Honky Tonk), is that there is something uniquely American in country music among both the corporate and organic groups.

If you reach beyond the twang, and set aside the fiddle and the slide guitar, you’ll arrive at the lyrics. Lyrics have always been my sticking point with all music. I simply can’t ignore what a song is telling me. And while the misogynistic, self-destructive lyrics we associate with heavy, industrial metal and gangster rap can be found in just about any music genre (including country), it seems to me that country artists are more apt to praise the idyllic in rural America than other genres.


These artists sing songs about family, about mothers and fathers, songs about growing up in small towns and making friends, songs about sacrifice and God. And in spite of the fact that behind the veneer of performance it’s all contrived anyway, I value the message for the sake of the message. Anyway, I guess I'm saying that, I like country music because it celebrates what my country once represented.

Sure, there's some truth to that. But to conclude that "I like the genre because of the lyrics" is a little too formulaic, a little too one-dimensional. Let's not forget Christian Rock (including its LDS variants) nauseates me. No, I think the real reason I am not longer afraid to listen to country music is because it reminds me of a very pretty girl who took a chance on me ten years ago. Poor thing. She never guessed she be stuck with a love-sick, romantic.