Hello, and welcome to episode 170 of Adobe & Teardrops. If you haven’t listened before, don’t stress — I know there have been A LOT of episodes, but in the past it’s been more of an All Songs Considered-style podcast, so if you like what you hear today, there’s 169 episodes of more songs like it in the archive! But moving forward, each episode will focus on a theme. Imagine Cocaine and Rhinestones but shorter. Also, there will be a transcript of this episode on the Adobe & Teardrops website, so click the link in the shownotes to access it! As a note,I’m drawing from a Spotify playlist I made a few years ago, which I will link to in the show notes and transcript.
So before we get into the music, let’s talk about anti-racism, and then a little bit about me and why I care so much. First of all, um…everyone should care about eradicating racism from our society. With that being said, anti-racism isn’t simply a buzzword. For me, anti-racism is about more than simply making statements that racism is bad, or talking about “inclusion” or “diversity.” These models often lead to cosmetic changes in a group or organization without actually getting to the roots of the issue: why are there barriers for Black Indigenous People of Color (or BIPOC) in the first place?
This was the shortcomings of the “political correct” culture of the 90s, and within that historical context it made a certain amount of sense: there are still vicious fights about school segregation all over this country, so representation does matter! But creating platforms for visibility isn’t the same as eliminating gatekeeping, or policies that are supposedly colorblind but are anything but. And for white people like me, that means understanding our role in maintaining a social order that is implicitly and explicitly racist. But not just understanding our individual roles: also confronting racism in all of its forms wherever we go.
When I started Adobe & Teardrops 10 years ago, I was in grad school for a social studies teaching degree. It’s always been important to me to use history as a tool to understand ourselves and our possibilities. But I couldn’t figure out how to reconcile that with my love for country music — especially because I’m a Jew born and raised in New York City. In the past few years, the mainstream country music industry has been focused on bringing white women and black performers to the table — LGBTQ+ country singers of all races have a ways to go.
That’s because there are so many supposedly color- and gender-blind decisions that go into who gets played on the radio, which is still more important for country music success than Spotify. I wrote about this a little bit with relation to the Academy of Country Music’s awards on The Boot. I’m indebted to Jada Watson’s study Redlining in Country Music: Representation in the Country Music Industry (2000 – 2020) for that reporting. I’ve linked to both of those articles in the shownotes and on the transcript.
As marginalized artists gain visibility, it’s also important to discuss what white accomplices — not allies — can do to transform country music from the inside. We need white role models, too. Since 2016, we’ve all heard dozens and dozens of protest songs, songs to remind us to “love each other” and express despair over hatred. Yes, and…how did we get here? The statements in songs like that aren’t exactly risky, so they don’t do much as protest songs.
The songs I’m about to play can show us how to boldly examine how individuals who don’t see themselves as racist, have engaged in self-examination and committed to a new way forward. We’re going to start our two-song set with M. Lockwood Porter’s “Charleston,” off his 2016 album How to Dream Again. Back in 2016, when Max and I spoke, he pointed out that these songs came from what he was hearing when he was touring the country in 2014 and 2015, before the election. (Link in shownotes and transcript.) This was the first time I’d heard a white guy sing about something like this, and it still stands out to me.
- M. Lockwood Porter — “Charleston” (How to Dream Again)
- Karen and the Sorrows — “The Price of the Ticket” (The Narrow Place)
That was Karen and the Sorrows with “The Price of the Ticket” from the band’s 2017 album The Narrow Place. The title of the song is taken from a James Baldwin essay, which reflects on how white culture harms people who are racialized as white in our society. If you don’t already know, Karen hosts a queer country show in New York City and has helped create the vibrant queer country community will explore during Pride Month. She’s also helped to create the group Country Music Against White Supremacy, which I’ll talk about at the end of the show. As a queer Jewish New Yorker herself, Karen’s music has given me permission to enjoy country music — and to demand more space within it for people like us. “The Price of the Ticket” deals specifically with Jewish assimilationism, and what we’ve lost in the process.
Well, we can’t have a discussion of anti-racism in country music without Jason Isbell’s “White Man’s World,” which I feel like gained more attention for openly discussing sexism in Nashville than it did Isbell’s frustration with himself for only taking up the cause when it directly impacted people around him. That takes a lot of guts, so let’s give it a listen.
- Jason Isbell — “White Man’s World” (The Nashville Sound)
- The Skipperdees — “Sins of the Father” (The SkipperdeEP)
The Skipperdees, on the other hand, have no patience for liberal hand-wringing. I mean, damn — right off the first two lines, they utterly demolish nostalgia for an older South. The Skipperdees are Catherine Backus, who performs under the name Catherine the Great, and her twin sister Emily. Catherine is another queer country singer and one of my favorites.
Speaking of favorites, let’s rip into Lee Bains III & The Glory Fires’ song “Whitewash.” It’s originally from their 2017 album Youth Detention, but those guys like to master their albums so you can’t hear a thing they’re saying, so I’m using the version from Live at the Nick. Bains writes dense, epic jeremiads and squeezes them into 3 minutes or less of blistering Southern rock. “Whitewash” is a little more mellow, but I think really speaks to this idea that white culture can feel…empty? Because so much of it is about Hoovering things up from other people and pretending it was ours in the first place.
- Lee Bains III & The Glory Fires — “Whitewash” (Live at the Nick)
- Amy Ray — “Didn’t Know a Damn Thing” (Holler)
And we closed the set with Amy Ray’s “Didn’t Know a Damn Thing,” from her most recent solo album Holler.
Patreon subscribers, stick around for an extra set of music! But for everyone else, let’s wind it down. If you want to get involved with creating change, and you have a position in the country music industry, check out Country Music Against White Supremacy and take the #ChangeCountry Pledge. If you’re a fan with the means, definitely donate to Rissi Palmer’s Color Me Country fund, which gives BIPOC artists grants to further their careers. There are links to both in the show notes and transcript. If you have more songs you’d like to recommend for the Spotify playlist, let me know!
As you heard, Patreon subscribers are going to be treated to another set. Sign up to the Patreon to get this podcast early, get extra music, and vote on upcoming episodes and songs! You can also support the podcast by chipping in to the Ko-Fi or picking up some of the merch designed by Will Bennett on the website. To send me music, do that through SubmitHub. Most songs sent through SubmitHub will be posted on the blog, rather than the podcast. And you can find me by checking out the Linktree in the show notes!
On next week’s episode, we’ll keep it a little lighter with some contemporary classics: the month of May is gifting us with a bunch of honky-tonk albums, so I’ll discuss my favorites and preview some upcoming albums.
Thanks for listening! In music we trust, in music we believe.
Podcast intro by Alma Contra, music from Two Cow Garage’s “Stars & Gutters”
Send me music via SubmitHub! Send me money via Ko-fi or Patreon. Find Rachel and her comic via https://linktr.ee/rachel.cholst