Alan Jackson, Drive (For Daddy Gene)
Alan Jackson has certainly achieved elder statesman status
in country music, and rightly so. But, I’ve always felt his work could be separated
between the genuine country good, and the cheesy, cliché-ridden country bad.
Songs like Midnight in Montgomery and Murder on Music Row delve into the
tropes and images that divide ‘real’ country from the terrible pop, or “bro”
country that dominates radio. Then, he cranks out stuff like Chattahoochee, which I know is popular,
but has always struck me as appealing to the lowest common denominator of
hillbilly ‘aw shucksisms. It’s like Eric Church, who is pretty darn cool in
most regards, using ‘mom’s apple pie’ as a key image in a song: it lacks
legitimacy and seems like taking the easiest road to wedging in a nice fitting
rhyme. Or appealing to what’s comfortable and well known, in order to add some
kind of inclusiveness to the music. But, shouldn’t music be about exploring new
emotional venues? I don’t know—relying on hack cliché is my biggest gripe with
country music, but then, what form of popular music doesn’t rely on the easily
identifiable to sell a theme? And t-shirts. Jackson has done more good than bad, and errs
more towards the soulful legacy of Hank Williams than some of his elder
contemporaries. But, he can clunk with
the worst of ‘em, too.
Drive (For Daddy Gene),
a song about the bonding
experiences between father and son, then son become father to his own children
straddles the border between the genuine and the over-mapped imagery of “Dad”.
But, it’s a wonderful song, with a soaring hook, and just the right amount of
sentimentalism to relate to on a level that invokes unaffected
authenticity. Jackson mines the imagery
of restoring first a boat with his own father, then a truck, and ends up doing
the same with his own daughters later in life to talk not only about beautiful
memories, but also of the sense of growth and of freedom that comes from
learning to drive and being the pilot, so to speak. The idea of piloting moves
from the actual sense of being at the wheel to being able to eventually pilot
one’s own life according to and because of the lessons passed on from father to
child. And I suppose a little sentimental cliché never hurt anyone, least not
when we’re talking about dad (or mom, or little sis….). And really, what else
is a father meant to do than teach his children to be better than he was?
And, I must confess, I put on Chattahoochee while I was writing this, and now its stuck in my
head…grumble, grumble…
