The Poetry of Country Music, Part 1

Years ago, I began writing a book with the working title of "Country Music, Seriously." I still might write it, but for now I'll offer up a few thoughts that help to make the point that country music deserves to be taken seriously. In fact, I think this country would be less divided if everyone listened carefully to the lyrics of songs by the likes of Hank Williams and Kris Kristofferson, lyrics that powerfully express the attitudes and emotions of millions of Americans.

If you know anything about country music — and most Americans know at least a little — you probably know that some of the lyrics can be humorous, even downright hilarious. I'll include some of them here, along with some serious ones, but let me start with a little funny thing I noticed while doing the research for this essay.

When I was writing this column, I occasionally consulted online lyrics. Even though I know these songs well, it's easier to pull up words on a screen instead of going on memory. Anyway, I looked up the lyrics to Brad Paisley's "This Is Country Music" and discovered that the person who tried to transcribe them made an egregious (and comical) error when quoting Paisley's homage to Conway Twitty. Instead of "Hello, Darlin'" — the iconic opening words of Conway's greatest hit, this person put, "Hello Dolly." Uh, yeah, that's a song, too, but Broadway is a long way from Nashville, partner.

Many people will tell you that they don't like poetry — and then they will revel in or even cry over song lyrics.

Listen up, unaware poetry lovers, song lyrics are a form of poetry.  In fact, the word lyric refers to a kind of poetry, specifically the kind that expresses emotion (as opposed to a ballad, which tells a story).

When it comes to poetry in song, you can do no better than country music lyrics.

Now, I am fully aware that country music is one of those things, like spicy foods and stair-running workouts, that people either love or hate.  (I'm a big thumbs-up on all three.)  If you're not on Team Garth, then I respectfully ask that you Hank with me through this discussion of country lyrics.  Even if I can't tune you into the sounds of a steel guitar — second only to Tammy Wynette's voice on the list of the world's most heartbreaking sounds — I do think I can increase your knowledge (and maybe even your appreciation) of the literary qualities of this original American art form.

A Lesson in Literature, Courtesy of Country

I could teach a class in poetic terms and concepts by using only examples from country music: simile, metaphor, imagery, internal rhyme, refrain, dramatic monologue, and more. The following examples help to illustrate how country lyricists, like Shakespeare and Dickinson and all their other fellow poets, craft their language to make us laugh, cry, and think.

Simile

He never tells me that he's sick of this house. He never says why don't you get off that couch? He don't cost me nothin' when he wants to go out. I want you to love me like my dog. [. . . ] When I come home, I want you to just go crazy. He never looks at me like he might hate me. I want you to love me like my dog. -Harley Allen and Scotty Emerick, "Like My Dog"

This entire song, performed by Billy Currington, is built around a simile, which, as you probably recall from your school days, is a comparison featuring like or as.  The song clearly falls in the category of humorous country songs, although there's an aspect that's worth some serious consideration.  Are the lyrics poking fun at women who complain to their male partners and require expensive dates, or is the joke on the men who are lazy and stingy and require unqualified adulation when they get home from work? I think it's a little bit of both, but it's all in good fun.  (For the record, I do recognize that the songwriters were building the lyrics on stereotypes, which I don't normally endorse, but I chalk it up to some harmless fun in this case.)

Metaphor

Now, I'm just an old chunk of coal, But I'm a-going to be a diamond someday. I'm gonna spit and polish this old rough-edged self Till I get rid of every single flaw. -Billy Joe Shaver, "I'm Just an Old Chunk of Coal"

Similar to simile, a metaphor involves a comparison.  The difference is that it flatly says one thing is another, so there's no use of like or as. Of course, we understand that the speaker here is not actually a chunk of coal, but rather is calling on us to recognize the similarity: he is something that requires some refinement before holding much appeal, at least in some social circles.

By the way, I first encountered these lyrics in a recording by John Anderson, whose quirky (but excellent) voice is just perfect for these lyrics (and others).

Hyperbole

If teardrops were diamonds And only mine were used, They could pave every highway Coast to coast And not be close to through. -Dwight Yoakam, "If Teardrops Were Diamonds"

A hyperbole is a creative exaggeration. The speaker here clearly has endured more than his share of misery — I mean, this is country music, after all — but I think it's fair to say that no tear ducts in no human being could exude enough fluid to cover all of the nation's highways in the form of diamonds. This hyperbole strikes me as a particularly strange one. I like the song — I like many of Yoakam's songs, in fact, and saw him in concert in Wabash, Indiana, a few years ago — but why would teardrops become diamonds, of all things, and who would think to pave highways with diamonds anyway? If this podcast inspires you to listen to this song (and all the others, I hope), you may enjoy hearing a familiar voice from Dwight's duet partner.

Ambiguity

So go on and pour yourself some wine With who'll ever spend your time 'Cause anyone can see you won't be crying over me And you never were that kind. -Clint Black, Hayden Nicholas, and Frankie Miller, "Burn One Down"

Ambiguity, the presence of at least two possible meanings, is a way of opening up possibilities.  Reality is complex (as much as we might want to simplify it), so it makes sense that writers would want to write in a way that makes multiple meanings possible.  (Ambiguity was popular among some of the writers in my favorite era, the mid-nineteenth century.  One of Melville's novels is called Pierre, or the Ambiguities.)  In this case, Clint Black, encouraging a former lover to burn down a candle for him, observes that she won't shed any tears over him, since she never was "that kind" — the type to cry over him, that is, or perhaps thoughtful enough to care.

Literary Allusion

I can still hear the soft southern winds in the live oak trees And those Williams boys they still mean a lot to me, Hank and Tennessee. -Bob McDill, "Good Ole Boys Like Me"

The allusion may be my favorite literary device.  It's merely a reference to something, often a person or a literary character, that exists outside the work.  In the example above from a song sung by Don Williams, the lyrics allude to two famous Southerners, the iconic singer/songwriter Hank Williams and the brilliant playwright Tennessee Williams.  Actually, the song contains allusions to other real and imagined Southerners, including the novelist Thomas Wolfe and the character Uncle Remus.

At some point, I probably will write an entire column about allusion.  For now, I will make two brief points. First, allusion packs a lot of meaning in just a word or two.  When the singer, yet another Williams, mentions Tennessee Williams, he gives us the opportunity to think about a myriad of things related to this man — his plays, his life, his associations in the popular imagination, and more.  Second, allusion has a downside.  It works only if the reader or listener recognizes it.  In this sense, an allusion might alienate some members of the audience, but it also brings special satisfaction to others, who feel like insiders because they do recognize the allusion.

Not-so-literary Allusion

When a mountain of a man with a 'Born to kill' tattoo Tried to cut in, I knocked out his front tooth. We ran outside, hood slidin' like Bo Duke. What was I thinkin'? -Dierks Bentley, Deric Ruttan, and Brett Beavers, "What Was I Thinkin'"

I just had to include this allusion, as well — perhaps my favorite in all of country music. Alas, it may be lost on many people, but, for those of us who grew up in the '70s and '80s, it recalls an impressive piece of acrobatics. In the campy TV series The Dukes of Hazzard — yes, I watched it, but I was a kid, OK? — one of the Duke brothers often would run and slide over the hood of their car — named, of course, the General Lee — because hood slidin' is faster when you're on the run, as these good ol' boys often were, but really because, well, because it's pretty cool to watch, especially for young boys. Bentley is a little younger than I am, but he still falls in the right age range. He would have been 7 years old in 1982, in the middle of the show's seven-year run. I would have been 15, but that's still a boy. Speaking of boys, I should add, for the uninitiated, that the great Waylon Jennings served as the "balladeer" and sang the show's theme song about "good ol' boys.”

Verbal Irony

That kindly jailer grinned at me All eaten up with sympathy Then poured himself another beer And came and whispered in my ear 'If booze was just a dime a bottle, Boy, you couldn't buy the smell.' -Kris Kristofferson, “Best of All Possible Worlds”

In literature, irony comes in three forms, all involving some form of contrast. Verbal irony, also common in everyday speech, involves a contrast between what is said and what is meant. In "Best of All Possible Worlds," one of many marvelous songs by the greatest of all country songwriters (in my opinion), the brilliant Kris Kristofferson, the singer tells of getting locked up in a town where he's trying to catch a train. When he says he could use a drink, this is the reply from the "kindly jailer," who, I think it's safe to say, was not really "eaten up with sympathy.”

Ready to Give Country a Chance?

How did we do? With a lot of help from Dwight, Clint, Diercks, and company, I made a case for the poetry of country music. Even if I didn't turn you into a "Johnny Cash junkie" or a "Buck Owens freak" (to borrow some phrases from Brooks and Dunn), perhaps I piqued your interest enough to click on the links and listen to the entire songs I have mentioned here.

Next week, I will take my case further — and I'll take it a bit more seriously — as I delve into the stories and emotions behind some of country's greatest songs. In the meantime, promise me one thing. Pledge that you will never, ever confuse a Dolly with a darlin'.