Back to basics

Back to basics

A new breed of ‘alternative’ country artists are challenging the
hegemony of mainstream Nashville, and people are listening.

By Michael Tatum

Daily Bruin Senior Staff

Don’t bother asking Dave Alvin about modern country music.

"Oh, what’s there to say?" he laughs, as if to imply, oh no, not
that dead horse again.

Alvin, the former songwriter-guitarist for the definitive roots
rock band the Blasters, currently a solo artist, suddenly becomes
reflective. "Music mirrors the times," he says carefully. "For
better or for worse, ‘Hollywood country,’ or whatever you want to
call it, pretty much reflects the time we live in."

Iris DeMent, whose My Life was one of the last year’s strongest,
most heartbreakingly beautiful albums, agrees. "A lot of (modern
country music) seems out there only to make money," she says,
"though to be fair, that’s true of a lot of music today. There’s
some good stuff out there, but most of it strikes me as being
largely ingenuine."

The complaints of these two artists are similar to ones voiced
by many fans, critics and even fellow musicians: that country music
has lost its vitality, its spirit, its uniqueness. Though the genre
has become more of a marketable commodity thanks to such dubious
crossover artists as Billy Ray Cyrus and Travis Tritt, it has done
so by sacrificing the honesty and integrity that made it such a
powerful musical style. These days, it seems all it takes to be
classified a country artist is to wear a cowboy hat, affect a
Southern accent and insert a token steel guitar into your song’s
arrangement.

Alvin and DeMent both stand at the forefront of a back-to-basics
movement that could be called the antidote to corporate county.
Utilizing scaled-down production techniques, drawing on traditional
folk, country and rock elements and emphasizing heartfelt
songwriting over calculated, formula gimmickry, Alvin, DeMent and
their peers do for country music what artists like Hole and Sebadoh
have done for rock. If Billy Ray Cyrus is Whitesnake, then this new
wave of artists could be described as the being at the forefront of
"alternative country."

Granted, unlike alternative rockers, these artists aren’t the
province of a clearly defined subculture, and because their numbers
are fewer, their scene is considerably less organized.

But even if DeMent’s My Life hadn’t made No. 3 in Spin’s top 20
albums of 1994, the analogy would still be unquestionably apt. Like
many of the less accessible alternative rock acts, many of these
artists have trouble getting airplay on country radio. There simply
isn’t a KLA, let alone a KROQ, that will do for them what has been
done for rock bands such as Nirvana and Elastica.

This is ironic, particularly considering that these artists
conjure the sound and feeling of classic country more accurately
than their mainstream counterparts. As journalist Michael McCall
pointedly noted of DeMent in Country, "She’s just too country for
Nashville tastes these days."

And while the roots of alternative rock can be traced back to
Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, likewise, much of what could
be called alternative country can be said to have sprung from one
source: Gram Parsons.

Parsons, who did a brief stint with the Byrds on their masterful
1968 record Sweetheart of the Rodeo shortly before forming his own
country-rock band, the Flying Burrito Brothers, was a bit of a
misfit in his time. Too much of a bumpkin for the hippie crowd and
too much of a longhair for the country crowd, Parsons nevertheless
dreamed of a synthesis between the two styles that he called
"Cosmic American Music."

Like Lou Reed, Parsons was much misunderstood and unjustly
ignored by many of his contemporaries. But also like Reed, he made
an indelible mark on many artists that followed him: on Elvis
Costello, on Tom Petty, on the Rolling Stones and especially on the
Eagles (though Parsons, who knew integrity when he saw it,
reputedly branded them "sellouts"). Shortly after releasing his
second solo record, 1974’s gorgeous Grievous Angel, Parsons died of
drug-related causes in California.

Since then, as mainstream country slid slowly but surely into
mediocrity and complacency, cutting edge country artists who still
gave a damn about the music gave the finger to the status quo by
following Parson’s example and keeping the faith.
Singer-songwriters like Butch Hancock, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Joe
Ely (all of whom contributed to Ely’s 1978 Honky Tonk Masquerade
and Gilmore’s 1993 Spinning Around the Sun) rank among the most
influential country figures from the period immediately following
Parsons’ death.

Unfortunately, there haven’t been any definitive books or
records devoted to chronicling this exciting development in popular
music. But Hightone’s Merle Haggard tribute record from last year,
Tulare Dust, while not especially engaging even by drab tribute
record standards, nevertheless serves as a useful who’s who of most
of alternative country’s important names.

Alvin, DeMent and Ely appear on it, as do Tom Russell, Rosie
Flores and Lucinda Williams, as well as Parsons-devotee Dwight
Yoakam, the only one of the pack to earn commercial, as well as
critical, recognition.

"What I look for in music is a constant," remarks Alvin, "music
that will stand the test of time."

If corporate Nashville reflects our time, as Alvin suggests,
than the worthiest music of the new country artists ­ ageless
and graceful, pure without the hollow nostalgia that that word
often implies ­ is for all time. When Travis Tritt goes the
way of Journey and REO Speedwagon, Alvin, DeMent and the best of
their peers will be remembered.