The American Spectator

br> Sometimes you turn on the radio for another “Ten In A Row!” and get one damned focus grouped song after another. They sound as if they’re written by committee, and they probably are. My friend Ed spent years in Nashville as a songwriter, much of it “writing with” this or that other writer or writers. That can be a creative technique, of course, but it can equally often amount to little more than show biz social climbing or crank-it-out commercialism.

Note, however, you will never hear incompetent country music. Those Nashville cats still play clean as country water, and everybody can sing.

PEOPLE WHO DON’T KNOW COUNTRY MUSIC, like people who are bad at imitating accents, will often launch into what they think of as a howling parody of a what they think of as a typical song: “My dog died the day I got outa prison,” and so forth. Grief and heartache appear aplenty. The willingness of country writers and singers to confront that sadness gives the music its strength. No other genre can offer the savagely clear-eyed contemplation of loss of Joe Diffie’s “A Night to Remember.”

blockquote>Sad ain’t my style but once in awhile br> I just have to give in, br> Cause a woman like you is so hard to lose br> You just don’t want it to end br> I know this can’t go on forever br> So tonight I’ll have a night to remember br> Dim the lights, lock the door, spread your pictures on the floor, br> Throw the dust off of our past, let it all come hurtin’ back. br> Cause it ain’t easy being strong, and when I can’t forget you’re gone, br> I just surrender br> and have myself night to remember. /blockquote>