Outsiders: Outlaw Country and Seattle Grunge as Subcultural Reactions to the American Experience (Excerpt)
Introduction
America is a vast country, constructed of the disparate scenes, identities, and conflicts of its citizens. When it became a world center for popular music genres in the 20th century, it spawned a number of subcultural styles that are still notable today. The entertainment industry exported those scenes, identities and conflicts to the world, effectively inviting anyone with a radio to find themselves in the words of their favorite song. It also created an established mainstream of culture—from the industry to the consumer—and pockets of counter-culture, intent on creating and championing their own ideals of art and authenticity overlooked by the corporate structure.
As a teenager growing up in Tacoma, Washington, being a part of the underground music community around me gave me both a strong sense of belonging, and a strong identity as someone outside of the “mainstream,” overtly capitalist hit machine. It also gave me hope of having my voice and my art heard the world over. All grown up and at the end of my music degree, I’m less and less interested in belonging to any one category or subcultural identity. Indeed, I’m much more interested in examining the ways in which the disparate parts of popular culture that comprise my taste actually fulfill the same function: speaking to the outsider in me. I make Americana-Grunge music and see two of my big influences as outlaw country (and the resurgence of the Americana scene in the past 15 years), and Seattle’s grunge scene—the aftermath of which I grew up in in Washington State.
Outlaw country and grunge appear on the surface to have nothing in common—indeed their most loyal proponents would fiercely deny any similarity—but they both grow out of a sense of rejection, isolation or otherness that manifests in the mundanities of everyday American life. They both tackle issues of substance abuse, identity and gender/sexuality. Both genres also have weighty ties to very particular geographical locations in the United States. The musicians at the helm of both scenes were outsiders themselves and told stories of outcast or uncouth experiences, and they all experienced the irony of those stories connecting with wide enough audiences to achieve mainstream success. Their respective fame and prosperity suggests that in singing about the dark and taboo sides of life, both genres hit home with millions of people by illuminating the outsider shallowly buried within all of them.
Though these genres and the iconic musicians who pioneered them have been extensively covered in popular media and dissected by scholars of popular music and musicology, no direct through line has been made connecting their overwhelming similarities in both lyrical themes and social function. At a moment when the American public is more divided than ever, this sort of reassessment of two of its most notable subcultures is particularly timely. This essay draws on existing scholarship about outsider and subcultural theory to make connections and perform primary source analysis in the style of LaFrance and Burns (2002). Lyrics from both genres are considered to be primary texts, used to communicate their writers’ and performers’ experiences of the world, and somehow reflective of their personal and subcultural values. They are appended at the end of this argument and referenced in the footnotes throughout. This essay moves through the lenses of subcultural and outsider theory, geography, substance abuse, and gender/sexuality to argue that outlaw country and Seattle grunge were really just two American, subcultural reactions to what is in fact the very human identity of outsider.
Contextual Scholarship + Defining the Scope
In a paper of this length, it would be impossible to include every band or artist associated with each respective scene, so the following arguments and analysis focus only on major bands and artists of the 1990s Seattle grunge scene and outlaw country. In this case, outlaw country will be defined not as the rock-n-roll hybrid style that really kicked off in the early 1970s, but rather as a group of country icons (Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Loretta Lynn, and Kris Kristofferson) from the 1960s-70s that popularized the confrontational and subversive side of the genre. Discussion and analysis of grunge focuses primarily on Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains and Hole.
This essay also relies heavily on established definitions from outsider and subcultural theory. The definition of outsiders is most crucial to the following discussion. Becker’s seminal work on outsiders in 1963 defined outsiders as individuals inherently tied to existing social groups:
All social groups make rules and attempt, at some times and under some circumstances, to enforce them…When a rule is enforced, the person who is supposed to have broken it may be seen as a special kind of person, one who cannot be trusted to live by the rules agreed on by the group. He is regarded as an outsider (Becker, 1963, p.1).
His focus lay not only on the individual at odds with the group, but with larger groups of outsiders who banded together to create cultures of social deviancy. Becker’s extensive study of outsiders and social deviants focused specifically on drug addicts and musicians—an intersection discussed later in this essay as being found in both grunge and outlaw country.
The resulting groups of outsiders described in Becker’s earlier work, later became labeled as subcultures. Subcultures in this essay will be understood to be music-specific, as groups that “are held together through the commonalities of musical taste and style…constituted by the social relationships among individuals involved in the production, consumption, and intermediate valuation of music,” (Moore, 2010, p.25). Musical subcultures are discussed herein as significant, social groups indicative of socio-economic status, core values and identity. As posited by subcultural theorist J.P. Williams, subcultures are “a resource from which to develop a positive self-concept, a confidence in non-normative thinking…and a network of support in a world that often feels alienating and unfulfilling,” (Williams, 2011, p.2). They are collective environments for exploring individual identity while simultaneously providing a safe space for making meaning out of shared experiences and concerns. This validation in community is key to human social structure as it grants the subculture a sense of justification and credibility.
Just as Becker’s outsider was inherently tied to an existing group, subcultures are inherently tied to a larger prevailing culture known as the mainstream. Williams notes that “distinctions between subculture and mainstream ‘occur through the construction of a…mainstream Other as a symbolic marker against which to define one’s own [identity] as authentic,’” meaning both that one cannot exist without the other, but also that the mainstream and the subculture are perpetually defining one another (ibid, p.9). In forming tangible ideas of self and identity, we have all created a perceived “mainstream” that we feel other-ed from. As we shall see, the grunge musician felt other-ed from the jocks and tough-guy country males in the same way that the tough-guy, working-class, country musician felt other-ed from the seemingly undemanding life of the grunge musician.
Within the realm of musicians, Becker identified this dichotomy as a struggle between Jazz versus Squares where
the musician thus sees himself as a creative artist who should be free from outside control, a person different from and better than those outsiders he calls squares who understand neither his music nor his way of life and yet because of whom he must perform in a manner contrary to his professional ideals (Becker, 1963, p.91).
The musician who follows their own pure, artistic vision is seen as Jazz while the musician who caters to public taste or entertainment is also categorized as Square along with the audience they serve. These added layers of classification pose infinite problems of subjectivity and taste in an argument largely based on identity, so in the context of this essay, the musicians of the Grunge scene largely represent Jazz while the Country artists discussed straddle the line of Jazz while creating within a genre quite firmly in the Squares camp of American culture. It is worth restating, however, that this paper views both genres as subcultures within the larger American, cultural framework and takes Williams’ position that “Asking who is ‘right’ in arguments about authenticity takes us nowhere…authenticity claims serve to root people in identities that are meaningful to them,” (Williams, 2011, p.144).
It is also worth mentioning here the ways in which existing power structures allow some outsiders to be more visible and acceptable than others. Becker noted that “distinctions of age, sex, ethnicity, and class are all related to differences in power, which accounts for differences in the degree to which groups so distinguished can make rules for others,” (Becker, 1963 p.18). With the exceptions of Loretta Lynn and Courtney Love of Hole, both genres at issue here consist, largely, of heterosexual, cisgender, white males. Their position in society presupposed them as eligible tastemakers, artists and celebrities whose feelings, woes and worldviews we should take seriously. They were Others, but they were palatable enough Others to achieve the kind of upward mobility that resulted in global stardom. Lynn and Love, as we shall see later, had to overcome gender as an added layer of Otherness that precluded them from the same industry welcome and public hero status afforded to their male contemporaries.
So, musicians of both genres felt themselves other-ed from a perceived mainstream. They sought out communities of like-minded others and set about defining their common identities through clothing, music and the establishing of certain rules and ideals that would define their subcultural groups. In so doing, they made their groups of outcasts belong somewhere, but they also other-ed all those not in the group, and gained cultural capital by conforming to the ideals of the new collective as steadfastly as possible; replacing one social hierarchy for another. Grunge musicians were more conspicuously performing the role of the outsider, or the Jazz musician, while Outlaw Country’s stars established more nuanced Jazz identities for themselves while still catering to the Square, Country-Western audience.
Geography
The United States of America is the third largest country on the globe, so it comes as no surprise that simple geography is one of the most fundamental othering factors in American society. Country music is seen as largely growing out of rural isolation and the diminishing agrarian culture of the 20th century. Country music scholar Nicholas Dawidoff, however, debunked the mythos of the country star growing up on the farm, dreaming of escaping to the city:
To be sure, many country singers and fans were farm people, but a lot of the music was also prompted by the dislocation and rural nostalgia working-class Southern Americans felt as industrial jobs called them to booming cities like Memphis, Nashville, Birmingham, Atlanta, Charleston, Norfolk, Chicago, Detroit, and Los Angeles (Dawidoff, 2005, P.18).
Merle Haggard was one notable example of this phenomenon. Despite being born and raised in Bakersfield, California, an inland town just Northeast of Los Angeles, Haggard truly adopted his ancestral Oklahoma heritage as he got deeper into the world of country music (ibid, p.253-254). In his 1969 hit ‘Okie From Muskogee’[1] Haggard lamented the simpler values and lifestyles of the rural South. The refrain declared: “I’m proud to be an Okie from Muskogee/A place where even squares can have a ball,” (Haggard, Burris, 1969). This pride in rural heritage and traditional values is a key attribute of country music as a subculture. In two lines, Haggard establishes himself within the particular regional identity of his family while taking ownership of his “square” identity and value system within the hierarchy of musicians. Lyrics in the verse further re-enforce his adoption of the ideals and social rules of people in small-town, Southern America by damning the hairstyles of “the hippies out in San Francisco” and their “beads and Roman sandals,” (ibid). Haggard repeatedly rejected the cosmopolitan, big city politics and culture thriving nearby, so foreign to the marginal, middle-of-nowhere experiences of himself and his ancestors, further establishing his credibility with country audiences and validating his experience as a geographical outsider.
While Haggard largely adopted the deep Southern roots of his ancestors, outlaw country legends Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn truly were born and bred in the rural American South. Cash “spent his youth picking cotton in Northeastern Arkansas,” and his life followed the mythologized path of the rags to riches country boy (Dawidoff, 2005, p.170). Cash was “small-town bored and restless,” joining the military as soon as he was able and heading to Memphis, Tennessee shortly after his service ended (ibid, p.178). His early songs, though written about prisons and trappings he had not yet personally experienced, largely dealt with themes of isolation. ‘Folsom Prison Blues,’[2] is one perfect example. The setting of Folsom Prison acts as an excellent metaphor for a more general feeling of being trapped in a given place or situation. Narrating as a prisoner provided a very literal representation of the deviant, the outsider, that perhaps Cash felt he embodied in subtler ways in his real life. The “train a-comin’, rollin’ round the bend” is an obvious stand in for movement, escape, etc. (Cash, 1968). It is a classic grass is greener device and more meaningful when taken in the context of Cash’s early life stuck in those Northeastern Arkansas fields. Later in his career, when he recorded more covers than originals, the songs he chose tended towards rural, Southern imagery and longing for a lost sense of home. ‘Sunday Morning Comin’ Down,’[3] his 1970 hit penned by fellow country outlaw Kris Kristofferson, is the mantra of any down on their luck average Joe self-medicating to make it through the day. The lyrics rely heavily on details and imagery to illustrate the narrator’s loneliness. The smell of fried chicken being prepared, a quintessentially Southern, American food, takes the narrator “back to somethin’ that I’d lost/ somewhere, somehow along the way,” (Kristofferson, 1970). This sense of searching, of losing one’s bearings and sense of purpose, is one that makes an outsider of everyone at one time or another. Likewise, the fried chicken as a symbol of a geographical place, of the kitchen of the rural South from which he hailed, added a layer of intimacy and relatability for his wider subcultural audience.
Loretta Lynn penned numerous songs tying her to her poor, Kentucky coal mining roots. ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter,’ ‘You’re Lookin’ At Country,’ and ‘Honky Tonk Girl’[4] all tied her to the physical sense of place so important to the narrative of poor, white, rural America. She was one of eight children, born into a poor family in Butcher Holler, Kentucky (Bufwack, Oermann, 2003, p.263). By the age of 14 she was married to Doo Lynn Webb and whisked off to Tacoma, Washington to keep house while he worked in the lumber industry. “Isolated from her native culture, tied to endless domestic work, and desperately lonely, Loretta turned to the gift of music she inherited from her mother Clara Butcher Webb,” (ibid, p.264). Lynn was from an outsider place and social station and became even more of an outsider across the country, now a young wife and mother. Her husband realized she had talent and “pushed her into a Tacoma talent contest, which she won. A Vancouver lumberman liked what he heard when she appeared on local TV,” invested in her, and the rest is history (ibid, p.265). Though Butcher Holler was certainly isolated enough to satisfy the rural mythology of the staunchest country fan, it took further displacement in the rainy and remote Pacific Northwest, the future home of grunge, to unlock Lynn’s outsider voice.
This same grim, rainy climate of the state of Washington served as the breeding ground for grunge some twenty years later. “This was music that came from guys who stayed indoors a lot. They had a lot of time to play, and a lot of time to listen; and they listened to everything,” (Cameron Crowe, 2011). Seattle, situated in the furthest Northwest point of the continental United States, was arguably as isolated from the mainstream art culture in the mid 1980s as Butcher Holler, Kentucky was in Lynn’s day. In the 1996 documentary Hype!, Nils Bernstein, former publicity employee for Sub Pop Records, explained: “Bands never used to come here because they’d go as far as San Francisco and then not come all the way up to Seattle because it wasn’t worth it to play one show,” (Pray, 1996). So, people needed to make their own entertainment and the climate forced them indoors—into garages, living rooms and other tight, musty quarters—to build their own sounds. “We had a bit of a chip on our shoulder,” explained Soundgarden lead singer Chris Cornell, “we always felt, I think, like if it came from New York or Chicago or Minneapolis or Athens, it was probably better, but there also was this attitude of somehow we will persevere,” (Crowe, 2011).
Punks and misfits flocked to the emerging subcultural scenes in Seattle and nearby Olympia from all over the Northwest region. Jeff Ament of Pearl Jam fame, relocated to Seattle from small-town Montana, Mudhoney bassist Matt Lukin and Melvins frontman Buzz Osborne up in nearby Montesano, and Morton, Washington, respectively. And of course, Nirvana members Kurt Cobain and Krist Novoselic grew up in neighboring Aberdeen (Crowe, 2011; Yarm, 2011, p.21). Matt Lukin described Montesano as “pretty redneckish and just simpleminded,” with much more in common with country culture than the hard rock culture he later helped pioneer in the region (ibid, p.21). Buzz Osborne’s childhood experience in Morton was also more akin to the rural, white, working class experience of the outlaw country stars; Lynn’s Tacoma period in particular. He described his hometown as “middle of nowhere,” and his parents as “poor people, lower-middle-class at best,” (ibid, p.21). The style these rural transplants brought with them, which came to be identified with grunge, was yet another organic outgrowth of the physical place. Sub Pop employee Megan Jasper rationalized: “Up here, because it’s logger territory, all these goon-balls just wear flannel anyways and then that’s what became the stereotype here,” (Pray, 1996).
Nirvana was particularly influenced by their experiences both of small-town Aberdeen and larger, more progressive Washington cities like Olympia.
“In Olympia, the cool thing was to sit around and talk about ideas and the meaning of life. Less so in Seattle, where people were like, ‘I wanna be cool.’ Kurt lived in Olympia—that was the place he moved after he left Aberdeen—and that’s why Nirvana was so political.” –Alice Wheeler (Yarm, 2011, P.99)
In their song ‘In Bloom,’[5] Kurt sings: “he’s the one who likes all our pretty songs/ and he likes to sing along/ and he likes to shoot his gun/ but he don’t know what it means/ don’t know what it means when I say.” This chorus seems a rather direct finger pointing at the kinds of rural, white males of the Aberdeen and Montesano area where Kurt grew up; the kinds of All-American males who clung to the traditional notions of masculinity, class, etc. found in the subcultural values of country music. These were men who either hated or feared the image and lifestyles of Nirvana and co., but who loved the melody and aggression found therein. Other songs like ‘Something in the Way’[6] used very overt, gray and rainy Pacific Northwest imagery to depict the deviant life of a homeless man, while later songs like ‘Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle’ drew on the tragic life of “Seattle born actress Frances Farmer, who was committed to an insane asylum against her will,” (Rolling Stone, 2015).
Though not all the lyrics of grunge dealt so overtly with place as Nirvana or their outlaw country counterparts, dreary, sun-less imagery was a staple of the subcultural expression. Pearl Jam’s ‘Even Flow’[7] (“Freezin’ rests his head on a pillow made of concrete again”), the aforementioned ‘Something in the Way’ by Nirvana (“Underneath the bridge and the tarp has sprung a leak”), and the opening line of Hole’s ‘Violet’[8] (“The sky was made of amethyst”) are all famous examples of such imagery.
In short, geographic isolation gave both genres their most literal forms of outsider status. They existed outside of the major urban centers that were shaping mainstream American culture in their times and they were using the clothing, language and ethos of the people around them to delineate just how isolated they were from those emerging cultures. Their respective senses of place not only gave rise to their subcultural scenes, but also became the central fixture for their followers to rally around.
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