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Sunday morning in Boston it was -22 degrees (Celsius) and I was so hungover that I almost didn’t go to brunch. Almost. But I mustered the strength to battle the literal sub-zero temperatures and my vodka-induced headache. You can applaud me for my bravery later. I met up with some friends I don’t normally hang out with very often, and they’d chosen an awesome tapas place for our Valentine’s Day brunch. After a few minutes of sipping water and chatting quietly (read: not quite as loud as I normally am), the food starting coming out. A few sips of coffee and some bites of chorizo benedict later and I was reborn, like a phoenix rising from Arizona.
We approached the topic of how I’d just scored tickets to Pearl Jam at Fenway this summer, both shows, and how I was accepting bribes for people to go with me, although a recent Snapchat spelling error indicated I was accepting brides for tickets, so we joked about what my dowry would be (still open to suggestions). We started talking about all the summer concerts we were already looking forward to, and everyone was hyping up all the shows they had lined up. The girl I was seated across from asked if I was going to Countryfest this upcoming summer and my response was, “Does The Pope shit in the woods?” Of course, I am. She’s never been before, so I was colorfully extolling all the virtues of a highly intoxicated afternoon at Gillette Stadium with 100,000 other drunk Massholes singing along to Kenny Chesney. It’s truly amazing, and ever since that Sunday brunch I’ve been getting amped just thinking about the late August concert.
I don’t have to live in the country, or have to drive two hours for a halfway decent brunch, but that doesn’t mean a slave to the concrete jungle like me can’t love country music, and that’s not abnormal in Massachusetts. The greater Boston area can support two country music radio stations, and most major acts come through every summer. But recently I got to thinking about how even though I can relate to some of the main themes in country songs – love, heartache, drinking, girls, tailgates, girls, the beach, drinking – the songs are framed in scenarios that are completely foreign to me. I decided to dig into this thought a little deeper.
After eschewing podcasts and listening to country music all week, I realize there’s so much about country life that I don’t think I’ll ever comprehend. Like at all. These are the things that a Connecticut Massachusetts Yankee in King Arthur’s Court like me just doesn’t understand when discussed in country songs.
Muscadine Wine
This appears as one of the main drinks of choice for the characters in many country songs. Every single time I hear it mentioned, I’ve assumed they were saying “musky dime wine.” I always wondered what kind of vile witches brew musky dime wine is. I know there’s some old hockey trick where you drop a penny into skunked wine and it makes it taste good. I just figured all the southern folk said shit, if one cent could clear up a decent pinot, a few dimes could fix the musky scented vino we’ve had laying around since the War of Northern Aggression.
Turns out it’s actually “muscadine” wine. Quick jump on over to the Google machine and it’s telling me that this is just wine made from a species of grapes native to the southeastern and south-central US of A. Not nearly as cool as musky dime wine. Snooze fest city.
County Lines
Everyone is always pushing the limits of the county line. “Let’s take it to the county line.” “Way on out by the county line.” What happens if you go over the county line? I’m imagining these southern areas have such small towns that town lines mean nothing, and what we think of towns here in New England they just think are counties. That’s the only explanation.
The fuck is a county, anyway? Massachusetts has 14 counties, and I have no idea which one I grew up in, which one I went to college in, and which one I live in now. Why don’t country songs ever talk about the town line? That seems much more pertinent, at least up north.
Parties In Fields With Randos
I’ve been to bonfires out at farms before. I’m no square. I had a friend who grew up on a farm in a rural-ish part of Mass. In high school, we’d drive out there to light up a big fire, grill, drink in the hay barn, drive the pick up through mud; essentially we were imitating what we heard in these country songs. But these songs are always saying how randos just show up and you pick up chicks at the bonfire, all the different trucks meeting up, dropping the tailgate, and mingling. Basically bringing the bar scene to the fields.
This was not how shit played out for us in those youthful days at our friend’s farm. The only uninvited guests that ever came to our farm field parties were the cops (and the ambulance once).
Dixie Cups
Without fail, if you’re drinking in a country song, you’re drinking from a Dixie cup. Where I come from, red Solo cups or GTFO. The last time I used a Dixie cup was when the pre-school was rationing out the apple juice and could only spare like two ounces per kid. Dixie cups just aren’t a part of party culture up north. Also they’re made of paper. Drinking out of paper is peasant shit. Show some class and drink out of something that won’t fall apart when it gets wet.
The Water Tower
It seems to me that in the south if you’re not throwing down in the fields, you’re up to no good at the water tower. Why? Why is that a thing. I think I saw my town’s water tower once. Or maybe it was the next town over. Probably in the same county though (see what I did there?) I’ve just never had the motivation to drive around until I found out where it was, and once I got there, what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I’m gonna smash with some Prospect in the water a la Will Smith in Wild Wild West.
Is drunk driving just not a thing?
When you drive out to the fields, or the water tower, and you start drinking your musky dime muscadine wine out of Dixie cups, how are you getting home? You’re not getting an Uber, there’s no way you’re walking down those dirt roads for miles. I mean, sure, drunk driving. Barring an unusually high number of designated drivers (pledges), I have to imagine drunk driving is a major issue. Or southerners just sleep in the fields. Someone please enlighten me on how the south lives.
I love country music. I’m not going to stop listening, and I’m not going to stop going to concerts. I just don’t think I’ll ever firmly understand the subject matter until Florida Georgia Line starts singing about the plight of the cube monkey, bougie brunching, or packed bars where you can’t hear what people are saying..
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Boston Max
Spending my retirement fund at Trader Joe's and trying to remember to check my mailbox semi-regularly
@BostonMaxG
@boston_maxg
The first step is to stop listening to Florida Georgia Line
Really there are just 3 steps to country life.
1. Wake up.
2. Put a good dip in.
3. Crack a cold one.
Yee Yee!
I see what you did there ^
…and mainstream country radio. Go for the good,old stuff.
Chris Stapleton is starting a revival
Along with Jason Isbell and Sturgill Simpson.
Jason Isbell winning two Grammys this week restored my faith in humanity.
Eh, just because they’re played on the radio doesn’t mean there hasn’t been better country out there since Garth retired. I guess one has to thank GFL, Luke Bryan, Chase Rice, and Brantley Gilbert for collectively torturing everyone but bros and dumb highschool girls enough to start playing some halfway decent stuff again.
And Steven Tyler as well, but in the complete opposite manner.
Garth, AJ, B&D > Jason Aldean, FGL, Luke Bryan
As far as pop country goes, yeah, they’re better than the new pop country group goes, though they’re all pop country. Not trying to be a total snob though, if you can’t get down to “Callin’ Baton Rouge” you can just get the hell out of here.
Second best two minutes and thirty seconds of my life.
County lines are a big deal in the South, especially below the Bible Belt because a lot of counties are dry. It can go from completely dry (no booze sold) to, like the county my college was in, beer and wine only.
So, a lot of dry counties have liquor stores just on the other side of the line that you have to make a run to for all your intoxicant needs.
The whole “dry county” business isn’t even isolated to rural areas in the South. I was housesitting in a county that is the basically the fancy ‘burbs of Louisville for my boss when I was an intern in college. I’m talking Bikram yoga studio, Starbucks-having, ‘burbs. Walked into a Walgreens looking for wine (naturally) only to be told that I had to go to a county line liquor store. The Bible Belt struggle is very real.
Oldham County?
Yep.
Didn’t realize it was dry there.
If for some reason you find yourself out there, stock up on booze before you get out of Louisville proper. The county line liquor store prices are basically highway robbery because they know people are desperate.
Pretty sure alcohol is served in restaurants there, so it’s not completely dry. However, I was not trying to go out in public: I was trying to drink wine while sitting in my boss’ massive guest room jacuzzi. It was inconvenient and the county line liquor store doesn’t chill a single bottle of its overpriced white wine.
New England basically reverses the importance of counties vs. town(ship)s from everywhere else, so that’s why the town line is a bigger deal.
Dear Yankee,
You’re not describing country music. You’re describing Pop Country. I’m a native son of Southern Appalachia and I can assure you: we don’t have too many supermodels in jacked up Ford trucks, sipping muscadine wine, driving to a bonfire, listening to “old Alabama”, waiting to shake it for that God awful Luke Bryan.
Florida Georgia Line and Kenny Chesney are more tractor rap than country. I suggest listening to artists such as Robert Earl Keen, Roger Creager and Jerry Jeff Walker, or Turnpike Troubadours and Aaron Watson for a more modern take on true country
Great recommendations. Turnpike Troubadours all day, every day.
And less well known… Max Stalling, Jason Boland, Paul Eason, Jason Eady, Adam Hood.
Really most of the Red Dirt subgenre qualifies.
Turnpike Troubadours are the best. Big fan of Whiskey Myers and JB and the Moonshine band
I dunno, Watson moaning about the high school girlfriend that dumped him in every single song gets old.
John Moreland and American Aquarium
Ryan Beaver, Rob Baird, Brandon Rhyder, Corb Lund, Cross Canadian Ragweed, Matt Stell… could go on for awhile. No reason to be listening to garbage pop country.
Damn shame Ragweed isn’t around anymore. I’d pay big money to see them. Jason Boland and Charlie Robison are solid.
Could do it all day, happy to see others out there enjoy quality songwriting and music.
“A good old boy can become an intellectual, but an intellectual cannot become a good old boy.” – James McMurtry. Pop country is horseshit.
Love the McMurtry reference for a multitude of reasons.
Never wrong with Texas country
1. It’s a chick drink
2. In the small town south, driving around is literally an activity.
3. See above, the same applies. Luke Bryan farm tour anyone? It’s incredible
4. I’ve climbed up one…emphasis on the word “one.”
5. Keg beer is meant for a dixie cup, simple as that. I thought this was universally understood
6. no comment
The driving out to the county line has to deal with the blue laws. The majority of the time if one county is dry there is a store or bar right over line.
The greatest night of my life started with a jug of homemade muscadine wine.
It’s all about the apple pie moonshine! Been helping my dad make it for years.
This made the shitty duck season down here much better.
it was shitty indeed.
Growing up in South Georgia I can probably help answer most of your questions
1. Muscadine wine isn’t that special, it’s just homemade
2. Towns are usually so small that usually if you go out to the county lines, you’re deep into the sticks. (Sicks is another term for “deep into the woods”)
3. Usually it’s not rando’s, my hometown is so small that mostly everybody knows (or knows of) everybody, so rando’s aren’t really a thing in small towns.
4. Dixie cups are cheaper than solo cups. It doesn’t matter how you drink it, just so long as you’re drinking.
5. Water towers are usually the tallest thing in most southern small towns, so naturally we’d want to climb to the top of it and get drunk.
6. We just sleep in the cab or bed of our trucks if we get too drunk.
Hope this helps, Go Dawgs!
Also, we’re all still pissed about the war of northern aggression, and that Sherman guy.
Fuck that Sherman guy
Damn them Yanks.
Muscadine wine is the most foul concoction to ever come out of the South. You must never drink it.