Last week an ethnomusicology class, my British lecturer in my Irish university played some of the country music sounds of
Easton Courbin as an example of the American blues concept of "down home".
Did you follow that? Yea, me neither. The gist of it is that a great deal of mockery occurred (understandably) right before the lecturer paused, looked around, and said, "We have an American in here somewhere, don't we?" After which I was asked to offer my semi-Southern and therefore professional opinion, as if I am an expert in country music and culture. I piped up eagerly defending Courbin's rather silly sense of purported masculinity (he's self-declaring the whole song, it would be endearing if it wasn't so self-centered), explained how I thought it worked within the tradition of country music, and overall decided that it had value, so I then shut up. I couldn't tell you if I did a good job, but I defended and discussed for about five minutes, everyone nodded intellectually, and we moved on. Unsurprisingly, I've had "I'm a Little More Country Than That" stuck in my head ever since.
As a somewhat intelligent but at least thinking woman, sometimes I feel a little bad for listening to and downright loving country music. Not because it is badly done or because I don't enjoy it, but rather because I often find myself in a conflict of terms. Like most women without a stick of ice in their hearts, I swoon at
Josh Turner. Carrie Underwood's powerhouse voice and overall girl
power makes me want to kick in doors. Eric Church's raspy Southern soul might be my
favorite, probably partially because he's from Carolina and partially because he's got songs with titles like "Drink in My Hand".
But though I enjoy the sound
and soul of Blake Shelton, songs like "
Boys Round Here" actually make me cringe when I think of the honest sentiment behind them. People can argue and discuss the artistic intention behind such a song (i.e. what the artist meant, whether he is being serious or ironic, whatever kind of response he was hoping for, what audience he was playing for, etc.) and the audience perception (i.e. all those things, but justified by the listener) all they like. But only a very specific kind of cultural phenomenon can be the hometown of a song like that: a kind of masculinity that defines itself so explicitly and singularly in strength, beer, machismo; and that defines femininity as its complement and as the outlet for any possible male sensitivity. Men who are hard working, laid back, chivalrous, protecting, simple, God-fearing are real men. And men who can vocalize all these qualities in a song should be recognized for being hard working, laid back chivalrous, etc. Women have an incredible power to impress that baffles these men every time, and women invite them to reveal their secret sensitivity directly to them and to no other people.
Such a masculinity leaves no room for a definition of chivalry as anything but bravado and protecting; and it leaves no room for anything but chivalry. Any country music songs deviating from the
Kip Moore and
Billy Currington -like norm is forced into dialogue with the thematic reality of these songs. They have to either ignore it or purposefully subvert it. Artists like
Keith Urban ignore it, whereas female artists like
Carrie Underwood rail against it.
How does the style of self-purported declarations of humility and sometimes
ridiculously fake shows of down home masculinity remain? Why do I still tap my foot when I would actually be offended if a guy in a tattered John Deere cap opened my car door, bought my dinner, and then asked if I'd shake it for him in a corn field? Phrases like "That's just the way I am" are seen as endearing when in actual fact they are a cop-out from living a self-reflective life. And things like chivalry, I think, are basic manners but can apply to women as much as men, at least to a degree. Boys, you can take care of your girls all you like, but don't expect her to fall over in smiles because you open her doors and walk her home just because country music told you she would. And girls, think about what you're doing before you start falling.
I love Blake Shelton and Jason Aldean in high summer, by the pool, in the yard, with some friends and some Bud Light. But I won't swoon with the rest of them. So the next time "
Country Girl, Shake it for Me" comes on, dance away. But girls, you better watch your boys. I'd rather open my own doors than shake it for some fellah who told me to put on that red dress.
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