Well, it’s Black History Month. A time to look at the history of Black people and Black culture in the United States, good, bad, and ugly. And I’ve been saying for a while that I was absolutely going to talk about the Black history of country music, so this seems like the perfect chance to do so.
However, before you get all your education on this subject from some schlubby white dude, I strongly recommend that you take a look at actual Black people talking about this subject. Marcus K. Dowling over at The Boot has a great article detailing some of the major Black musicians vital to country music as we know it, and Queen Esther’s article for BlackHistory.com goes a lot more into some of the foundational influence of Black artists and Black culture on what we now know as country music. And Elamin Abdelmahmoud had an amazing piece in Rolling Stone in 2020 about life as a Black country music fan, which also showcases some of the history and a lot of the great Black country artists performing today.
Now that you’ve read those—because you better damn well have read those before listening to me—I’m going to give the briefest of brief overviews of how country came to mean “white people,” and a smattering of the reasons that is just so utterly fucked. And then, I promise we’ll get into Charley Pride.
So if you read the articles above, then you know that Tee Tot Payne taught Hank Williams how to sing and play music. You know that the banjo is actually the mass-produced ancestor of an instrument traditional in many West African countries (You know, the places where the US ripped people out of their homes to be slaves?). And you know that work songs and spirituals and West African folk music served as the foundational sounds of country music as it exists today.
So why the fuck is country music perceived as so God-damned white? Well, this might be a shock to you, but the answer is racism. The Abdelmahmoud piece goes into the story of Ralph Peer, who later went on to host the famous Bristol Sessions that basically jumpstarted country music as we know it. But it was really the marketing. “Hillbilly” and “traditional” music was sort of a big jumble, until somebody had the bright idea to split them into “country” and “race” music (Yeah. I know. In the 20s when this started, “race” was used as a catch-all by many Black publications to refer to Black people, but still. It wasn't the Black community using that terminology. It was a bunch of white record executives looking to extract maximum money from Black people to line their pockets.). This is because of market pressures and segregation (record players, and their records, were largely sold in furniture stores, and white and Black folks weren’t allowed to shop at the same furniture stores.), but it led to this stark delineation where “country” meant “white.”
That’s not the only force causing this. Good old fashioned racism helped keep those divides in place, and does to this day. Black country artists are still viewed as a spectacle. An exception to the rule (That rule being that country is for white people.), in spite of the fact that, without them, country doesn’t exist.
It’s also something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. I mean, why would Black people want to put their lot in with a bunch of people constantly questioning their legitimacy as artists? “That’s not really country, but it’s good” is a pretty common refrain from white Good Ol’ Boys listening to Black country artists. It’s in the Abdelmahmoud article, and if anyone remembers Old Town Road? Oh the knots country tied itself into arguing about whether that song was really country. They were infuriating.
Country has a long way to go before it could ever be seen as a genre with equality built in, and a lot of history to reckon with in order to even try to get there. And frankly, I don’t know that it’ll happen. We live in a capitalist hellscape, and there’s not really any capitalist pressure on the system to have that reckoning. It’s sad. Like, even when we saw country artists maybe sort of reckon with racism…it wasn’t good. The formerly known Lady Antebellum dropped “Antebellum” from their name so they weren’t harkening back to the Antebellum south…and then proceeded to sue a Black artist who had been using the name they’d gone with, Lady A, since the 80s. Like… GAH.
Anyway, I really could go on a whole rant of sins, but this isn’t just about the bad history between country and Black Americans. This is, ostensibly, still an article about Charley Pride. Charley Motherfucking Pride. A God-damned legend of county music, and an absolutely fascinating person. Like, he was a professional baseball player, traded to a different team in exchange for a bus, then a construction worker, then a baseball player again, and finally became a country music icon.
And when he first started in country music, the record labels didn’t send his picture with the music when they sent them to radio stations. Because, you know, racism.
Sorry. Off-track again. But seriously? Charley Pride’s smiling face is just so…warm and genuine. It pisses me off.
Anyway. You can’t feasibly talk about Charley Pride without talking about Kiss an Angel Good Morning. Without a doubt, that’s his most popular song. I wish I could say that I liked it more than I do. It’s perfectly fine. It’s a good song. But I don’t think it showcases Pride’s vocals in any unique way. It’s popular because of all the reasons I just find it sort of okay, to be honest. It has very broad appeal. Which makes it an excellent stepping stone into country music, which is perfect for this whole project. But it’s just sort of generic, especially when compared to some of Charley Pride’s other work.
One thing I will absolutely give it credit for is just being a nice love song. So often in country, male artists sing about women as either these heartbreaking sirens or these sexy vixens. Pride’s songbook has both of those in it, but Kiss an Angel Good Morning has a simple, sweet message to it: I’m happy because I love the woman I’m in a relationship with. And for me, that’s the most standout thing about the song. I’m never mad when it comes on, because Pride just sounds so utterly blissful singing it. It’s not a song that makes my personal list, but it’s absolutely a good song, and a key part of Charley Pride’s career.
You know what does make my personal list? Just Between You and Me, which is a song about a woman being a heartbreaking siren. Yeah, I know. You’re going to find out that I like sad songs through the course of this project. But Just Between You and Me is less sad and more…resigned. And sad. Resigned to sadness, essentially.
It’s a guy who broke up with his lady and is hearing all the usual platitudes. Time will heal all wounds, you’ll eventually move on, you’ll find love again. But he’s not buying it. He doesn’t see that happening. It’s an eminently relatable feeling for anyone who’s been through a significant dumping, and it’s one of the reasons this song has stood the test of time since 1967.
(Plus, like, just between you and me (See what I did there?), his low notes in this song are just hnnnnngghhhhh. I love them.)
But not all of Charley Pride’s music comes from half a century ago. In 2017, he released an entirely original new album (I told you, country forgets a lot of the history that makes it feel bad about itself, but the artists get remembered, rather than tossed aside.). And God was it a breath of fresh air. Like, mainstream country wasn’t terrible in 2017, but Music in My Heart was so nice to hear. And for my money, the best song on the entire album is Standing in My Way.
Can you guess the tone of the song? It’s sad. Shock horror.
It’s the tale of a man who sees himself sabotaging his relationship. He’s never letting himself actually say yes to the woman he wants to be with. And it’s not like she’s completely uninterested. He’s just…his own worst enemy. It strikes this perfect balance of sweet and mournful and self-reflective. And Charley Pride’s voice held up over the years. It’s basically indistinguishable from how he sounded in the 60s and 70s. Which is a fantastic thing, because his voice has always had this expressive richness. It’s a vector for emotion. The man could always make you feel something in a way that I find other artists struggle with. Every Charley Pride song is genuine.
Unfortunately, Charley Pride passed away in 2020 from COVID-19. This is where I tell you that, if you somehow haven’t been vaccinated against it (And preferably gotten your booster.), go do that at the soonest available moment. But Pride left behind this absolutely stunning song, and the rest of the album, to remember him by.
The last spot in these, I usually reserve for what I consider the most standout song. The one that connects and just hits different than the others I may have brought up. But with Charley Pride, it’s tough. There are so many decades of excellent music I could pull from. It took me basically until the second I was writing this to decide which of these two was going to be #1, and which would be in the general milieu, but if you wanted to consider both of them as the #1 spot, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all.
So the milieu: Crystal Chandeliers. Another sad song. A tale of love gone wrong, and of a heartbreaking woman. What can I say? Country does a few things really well, and “this relationship ended and I feel bad” is one of those things.
But Crystal Chandeliers also manages to touch on other aspects of country music. Most prominently, the blue and white collar divide. It’s from the point of view of a man whose love has been uplifted. She’s the new shiny plaything of the rich and elite. They’re fascinated by her, but the implication is that they’ll also get bored of her at some point. They don’t really care about her, not the way the singer does. He knows he doesn’t fit into this world of hers, with marble statues and the eponymous crystal chandeliers.
Oddly enough, although this song has stood the test of time, it was never a US hit for Pride. It charted very high in Ireland and the UK though, as did several of the covers following Pride (The original was actually by Carl Belew, which charted #12 in the US.). Also, side-story: Charley Pride was something of an anomaly, since he toured to both Ireland and Northern Ireland right at the height of The Troubles., at a time when nobody was touring over there. It helped propel Crystal Chandeliers, and also broke what was effectively a ban on touring concerts in the area, at a time when people needed some music more than ever.
Now, when I started thinking about Charley Pride songs, a few definitely came to mind that ended up not making the cut when I sat down and started thinking. Thinking about accessibility for those not in country, and about which songs are really important and powerful out of his long and storied career. Kaw-Liga is a problematic fave. It’s a Hank Williams cover…and is kinda racist. I’m not going to link it, and I didn’t include it, because of that. Like, it’s not super racist, but there’s definitely some second-or-third-hand racism going on toward First Nations people, which I can’t condone. I only mention it now because it is one of Pride’s bigger songs from the peak of his career.
Mississippi Cotton Picking Delta Town is one of those that’s just…really country. Like, super country. Very much everything that kind of gets mocked in country today. I fucking adore it. It’s just fun. What sets it apart for me from the “simple noun, rural adjective” numbers of today is that Charley Pride came from a family of Mississippi sharecroppers. You can tell, in this song, that he actually knows what the hell he’s talking about. Sure, it’s romanticized, but it's legit. Like everything else he did, it’s genuine.
Shoulder to Cry On, You’re so Good When You’re Bad, and I’m Just Me could all have been here too. But I had to narrow the list somewhere. Honestly, hot take: Kiss an Angel Good Morning is one of his weakest songs. And if that’s a weak song in your catalog, you’re doing really well.
So what’s the strongest song? What is the peak of Charley Pride music for me, and the one that I think is going to be the best to really showcase what country can do? I’m not going to lie, Crystal Chandeliers and Just Between You and Me are perfectly valid choices for his best song. The man really was a gift. But Roll On Mississippi just does something different. It’s extra. It’s a special kind of magic that astounds me literally every time I hear it.
There’s something universal about Roll On Mississippi. I can’t speak for literally everyone, but I imagine that most people have some sort of visceral sense memory, something deeply nostalgic from childhood. I’ve never seen the Mississippi. The farthest east I’ve been in the US is Las Vegas. But there are absolutely things from my childhood that feel monolithic and magical. There’s a dock off a park in my hometown that basically everyone visited at some point, and it’s covered in graffiti, some of it stacked on top of each other. It just feels like you’re a part of something bigger when you visit it.
I know that’s not quite as grandiose as the entire Mississippi River, but it’s that same nostalgic feeling. And that’s what Roll On Mississippi really captures. It’s sweet and tender and…I don’t want to keep using nostalgic, but it’s nostalgic. It’s that sensation of seeing something that was there when you were a kid, something that was important, and having it…still be important. Like, so often, when you return to something from your childhood, it’s different without the rose-colored glasses, or it’s been ravaged by time. But there’s a special feeling, a rare feeling even, when you return to something from your childhood and it’s still just as strong and powerful as you remember.
It's such a specific emotion that Roll On Mississippi captures, that it’s almost uncomfortable to listen to, at least for me. It makes me want to cry, even though it’s a happy song. It’s just an emotion that doesn’t get the same kind of workout as anger or love or sadness, so when it gets exposed like that, when someone can actually connect to it the way Charley Pride does in this song? It feels weird. And I think you have to listen to it to really understand.
I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that I’m an overly emotional person. You could absolutely sell me on that argument. I’ve been known to cry watching Dora the Explorer. But for me, Roll On Mississippi is emotional and connective and nostalgic and sweet and…perfect. There are few songs I would describe as perfect in any way, but when you want this exact emotion? I can’t think of anything that captures it better, or any voice that would deliver it better than Carley Pride’s.
I know this one was long. I was expecting that, since I wanted to cover some brief snippet of the history of Black artists in country. I mean, Charley Pride was once told by a white country exec that they were lucky to have him “in our music.” And Charley Pride corrected his ass. “It’s my music, too.” So it would have been a disservice to Pride, to Black musicians, to honesty, and to the whole point of this project, to avoid it.
But I promise next week won’t be nearly this long.
So 2700 words later, I’ll see you next week.
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