One of the many things that originally attracted me to this music so many years ago was the reverence paid to the forefathers of the “genre” by the young guns. ¬†The first time I heard Walt Wilkins via Pat Green sing about Jerry Jeff and Guy Clark being coats from the cold cleverly resonated with me to my core. ¬†Here were new artists reaching out and paying respect to the road-pavers of their cottage industry. ¬†This doesn’t happen in a genuine fashion in other realms of music. ¬†The faux cries about Hank and Waylon from the Nashville bro-crowd ring hollow. ¬†But, when Cody Canada cuts a record of underground Red Dirt classics, that’s legit. ¬†For every Aldean Lite that is pumping up Johnny Cash, there’s a Randy Rogers promoting the goodness of a Kent Finlay.
That’s not to say we haven’t had our fair share of fake callouts that stand alongside exuberant, exaggerated river trips that float atop suds of Shiner and Lone Star Beer. Thankfully, these are easily identified and castigated for what they are: ¬†trash that is no better than the stuff I derided in the first paragraph.
I’ve said it so many times, but it bears repeating…what we all crave is authenticity. ¬†Be yourself. ¬†Be true. ¬†People will respond.
In the instances I’m talking about here, pay true homage to your heroes. ¬†Don’t do fake shoutouts in your songwriting and live shows because you think that’s what people want to hear. ¬†When Drew Kennedy revels onstage about … Keep Reading