Why Americana?
The definition of Americana, like a lot of biz-contrived music genre labels, is both vague and untrustworthy, a bit like a lot of biz-contrived music. When the tag first gained currency in the late-80s/early-90s, it was as much about specific stylistic markers as it was its creators. These musicians were, for the most part, second or third-generation punks who came to Country or Folk Music in a quest for something ‘genuine’ and ‘authentic’. They discarded Punk as it devolved into a set of empty mannerisms and turned to Folk and Country, promptly adopting a different set of empty mannerisms.*
Today, what is called ‘Americana’ includes not only all three Hank Williamseses, but an impossibly broad range of North American and, ironically, international acoustic guitar-bothering roots artists from the past 70 years.** Hell, we reckon Goldenvoice would book Tears For friggin’ Fears for Coachella’s Americana tent as long as they played an unplugged set.
Why Unsung?
Common wisdom holds that History is written by the winners. This isn’t quite true. History is not written by winners, but about the winners by, in the words of depressed cat-fancier T.S. Eliot, their attendant lords. And there have been plenty of winners in the Americana scene; musicians who, through talent and perseverance, have created work that is artistically worthy and financially remunerative. Good for them. Rolling Stone, MOJO, and Pitchfork (not to mention scores of nerdy alt.country blogs and websites across the continents) have already chronicled these acts ad nauseam. Indeed, there are songs attesting the greatness of Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, Emmylou Harris, and so on. They are literally “sung“.
No one is going to sing about Francis McCombe or General Dixon or Lefty Wrong, let alone the people in their road crews.
Why Americana Unsung?
This is where we come in. Starting today, on the most American of all holidays, our readers will be treated to a new profile every two weeks, all with the look and feel of genuine hand-tooled saddle leather. These are the stories of the also-rans: The country-rockers who, despite being good enough, couldn’t catch a break because they shot themselves repeatedly in the foot; the eccentrics who weren’t quite good enough, but had enough misguided chutzpah to give it a go anyway; as well as their agents, publicists, club owners, lovers, drug dealers, and managers–it takes a village to crumble a metropolis, after all.
“Success has many fathers,” the ancients tell us, “but failure is an orphan.” Well, Americana Unsung plans to adopt the waifs and strays of the Americana scene, telling the tragic tales of the previously unheralded whose paternity lies unclaimed.
Come to Daddy.
*The idea that legacy Americana artists came to Folk/Country (or went back to Folk/Country) after being immersed in something else is historically precedented: Dylan went folk subsequent to being in thrall to Little Richard; Neil Young started in a Motown group with Rick James; L.A.’s Byrds wanted to be an American Beatles before making their Nashville move; why even Kenny Rogers was psychedelicized before he was the Gambler. And so on. These days with the path so well-trodden, the new Americana artist is just as like to start there as somewhere else.
**Good grief, even Ray Davies, the world’s most ‘quintessentially English’ songwriter after Noël Coward, released an Lp in 2017 called Americana.
Americana Unsung 