Chris Willman,
Rednecks & Bluenecks: The Politics of Country Music



Publisher: The New Press
Released: 2005

(4 out of 5)

More than 2,000 years ago, Aristotle observed that "man is by nature a political animal." Later in the same work, Politics, he shifted his gaze to another natural human activity: "Music is pursued, not only as an alleviation of past toil, but also as providing recreation. And who can say whether, having this use, it may not also have a nobler one?"

Perhaps someone as wise as Aristotle could have foreseen the eventual convergence of politics and music. But he likely wouldn't have divined the sometimes stark divide evident in today's country music.

Chris Willman surveys the current state of the union in Nashville, Austin, and beyond in Rednecks & Bluenecks: The Politics of Country Music.

Politics has long played a role in country music. After all, it emerged from hillbilly and folk music, each of which amplified the muted outcries of the American rural poor.

After September 11, 2001, politics and current events became a central theme for some of our era's bestselling country musicians. First it was Alan Jackson with the tastefully subdued, apolitical "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)." But then the politically aware country hits turned sharply to the right: Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)," Daryl Worley's "Have You Forgotten," Chely Wright's "The Bumper of My SUV," and so on.

Aided by a Texan in the White House, country music has become closely associated with the Republican Party. "The stereotype that country music has become the house genre of the GOP isn't easily or persuasively disproven," writes Willman. And he's not out to disprove that stereotype, but rather to illustrate the nuances of political thought in contemporary country music.

Sure, Toby Keith is "The Angry American," but he's also a (gasp) lifelong Democrat. And for every mainstream conservative artist like Lee Ann Womack or Brooks & Dunn, there's a liberal (though not always as commercially successful) Americana counterpart like Rodney Crowell or the Drive-By Truckers.

The conservative bias in country music is a relatively recent phenomenon. "Dreamlike as it may seem, there was an era when 'outlaws' walked the earth and found fans among all social strata," writes Willman.

He traces the shift at least in part to the rise of modern demographics, which have helped radio programmers better define their audiences and increasingly tailor their selections to fit desired profiles. Throw in artist-audience lovefests like Fan Fair, and we get a situation where the audience expects entertainers to reflect its own increasingly homogenized identity: "cocooning ideologues are free to imagine that anyone smart and friendly in their immediate vicinity would have to be a kindred soul. … That's the very cornerstone of country music: that the entertainers are no different from their audience, a role not found in any other genre."

Musicians who vary from the conservative norm risk becoming ostracized, at least by mainstream media outlets. And with most album sales driven by radio airplay, that can have the effect of marginalizing artists.

Rednecks & Bluenecks is not a perfect work. Occasional factual errors and misspellings ("John T. Ford's country store in Polutus," "Luchenbach," "Anheiser Busch") sometimes distract from the narrative. And artist profiles too often read like breezy magazine-style personality sketches; but those that dive beyond the surface and explore meaning and motivation are thought-provoking.

Overall, Rednecks & Bluenecks is a timely, provocative look at politics in country music. Willman may not have answers to heal the divide, but hopefully he'll encourage mainstream country fans to question why it exists in the first place, and whether today's partisanship serves the nobler purpose envisioned for music by Aristotle more than 2,000 years ago.

November 26, 2005