Two very different explorations of Southern identity capture the complexities of the region.
“Country Hymn”
The Kentucky Gentlemen
Written by Brandon Campbell, Derek Campbell, and David Mescon
JK: The conceit here– that country music isn’t a “family,” it’s a church– puts an interesting spin on one of the industry’s common talking points. Coming just months after Luke Bryan suggested that Beyoncé needed to show up for more “family” events if she wanted to get past the gates, it’s more than a little subversive for the Gents here to address that idea head-on. That they’ve done so by taking it to church? Can I get an amen?
I love the way they drawl the line, “Baby, this church for everyone,” in the chorus, putting extra emphasis on the last word to drive home a message that would surely have the likes of Bryan clutching his pearls about “DEI.” They’re right, of course, that country music is at its best when it’s actually inclusive, and when they’re calling out blessings for their fiddle and steel guitar, The Kentucky Gentlemen are proving yet again that this queer, black duo can throw down a banger of a single.
Which is to say: This sounds like a hit, and if it were performed as-is by Tucker Wetmore or whichever white frat-bro in a flat-brimmed ballcap Music Row is currently throwing money at, it’d shoot straight to #1. The KY Gentlemen are savvy enough to know that’s not going to happen for them in the world of 2025, and they slip a couple of “Bless your heart” asides into the chorus for good measure. But they’re not going to apologize for being who they are, and they’re not going to stop praising the music they love. Hallelujah. A
KJC: I’ve been listening to country music, studying country music, and writing about country music for more than thirty years. That’s almost long enough to convince myself that I’m a native speaker, not just a fluent one, until a pair of singles come along like the ones we’re covering today.
I love the inclusivity and creativity of this Kentucky Gentlemen record, which reminds me of the open invitation – “Come! Join us!” – that made nineties country so popular with so many of us who live well above the Mason-Dixon line. The larger cultural significance of their lyrical imagery here is lost on me. I can read about it, but I can’t understand it in my soul the way a gentleman from Kentucky can. But I sure do love listening to it. A
“Those Kind of Women”
Lauren Alaina
Written by Monty Criswell, Derek George, Lynn Hutton, and Lainey Wilson
KJC: I can’t begin to approach the depth of analysis provided by Jonathan on this one.
What I can say is that I don’t recognize the women of this song in the way I recognized the woman in Brandy Clark’s “She Smoked in the House” last year, and that’s a testament to how women of the same time but a different place moved through a limited, limiting world a bit differently.
That fly swatter line makes me wince, and it gives me flashbacks to my college friends from the south genuinely shocking me with the fact that there was corporal punishment in their schools, not just their homes. Here’s hoping that Alaina is able to discard that strategy around her own kids the same way that Clark presumably won’t smoke in the house. C
JK: Journalist and friend-of-the-blog Marissa R. Moss has already noted concern that far-right evangelical Christianity will become central to mainstream country in 2025 and beyond, and here comes Lauren Alaina to prove that exact point.
Here, Alaina sings wistfully– and, still, with the worst breath control ever demonstrated by any American Idol finalist– about “brimstone Bibles on nightstands,” because current evangelicals are actively turning against Woke Jesus and his red-letter compassion and empathy. Which, whatever, I don’t have a dog in the fight about anyone’s personal faith. Alaina’s just as free to celebrate White Jesus as Katie Pruitt is free to reject him.
But what I’m not going to do is validate the nostalgia-drenched longing for parents who would, “Set you straight with a flyswatter whippin’,” which Alaina rhymes here with a line about smelling “love cooking in the kitchen.” Tommy Tuberville literally just gave a speech about the virtues of corporal punishment of children– which decades of research into actual human behavior has proven over and over and over again is not actually effective in doing anything other than instilling fear– and here we have Lauren Alaina, singing cheerfully and longingly about the bygone days of people hitting their kids and calling it “love.”
I’m not going to normalize that within the context of country music or any other context. Children shouldn’t be hit with any adult’s hands. Or a belt. Or a wooden spoon. Or a flyswatter. Country music, at its best, is about empathy and human connections, not glorifying abuse or coercive control as virtues of the good ol’ days. If anyone needs to be set straight about anything, Alaina should perhaps listen to the “Dolly and Dylan” songs she blithely references here and consider their fundamental humanity and kindness. F
Gosh, I genuinely hate the Lauren Alaina song the more I have listened to it as I am a fan of her and think she is talented. But that line that pretty much okays child abuse is impossible to overlook, and ruins the song as a whole.
I don’t think it would be a good song without that line, but it for sure takes it in an indefensible direction. She cast in her lot with the Aldeans some time ago, so I’m not surprised by this from her. But I for sure know how bitter this particular flavor of disappointment is, and we’re in for a lot more of it, I’m afraid.
Always glad to see you pop in, Raymond!
…the optimist in me would perhaps say that we have come a long way since “this hurts me more than it does you” in country lyrics sporting fathers and their belts coming out. the realist in me might add: …but still falling short quite a bit, obviously. why not just working toward an environment that allows you to say a lot more yes than no when raising kids? it’s work but a lot less painful for all parties involved. on top of everything, the no’s gain in impact.
since i have a bit of a soft spot for ms. alaina, i’ll give her the benefit of the doubt that she most of all meant well with this song, basically.
To piggyback on what Kevin said in his blurb: I’ve known “Those Kind of Women” for the entirety of my time on this earth, and I assure you it’s a mistake to give them– or the men they’re married to– the benefit of the doubt on things like this. This is a deliberate show of allegiance– a “virtue signal,” if you will– to the party line.