Humor columnist Morris Workman shares his "odd-servations" and twisted perspectives on small-town living, national news, sports, and societal whims. His wit and gentle satire are designed to make you smile, make you laugh, and mostly, make you think.

Monday, August 01, 2005

Beautiful Music

We’ve been condemned to mediocrity by our zeal for perfection.
That’s my official ruling on music, particularly country music.
First the disclaimer.
Once upon a time, I was a small-time country singer working the club circuit, first in northeastern Maryland then in southwestern Florida.
I was a decent singer, but my Achilles heel was actually a size-48 waistline.
If you closed your eyes and listened, I could be your dream guy.
Open your eyes, and even through the Budweiser-filtered smoke-filled haze, I would be your nightmare.
But once upon a time, the way you looked didn’t matter.
Go back and revisit some of the biggest country and even rock stars of the sixties and seventies.
Ever see a picture of Janis Joplin?
Sorry, that was one ugly female.
But man, she could sing!
Merle Haggard, one of the biggest names in country music, was never a very pretty man.
Rumor has it that NASA refused to use his face in ads for the Apollo program because it had more craters than the moon.
(Okay, I just made that rumor up, but you have to admit it’s funny, and pretty close to true.)
And Loretta Lynn, who I still love from afar to this day, could have been billed as one of the "Lee" sisters with Patsy Cline..."Ug" and "Home."
But all of these stars rose above their appearances because while they weren’t beautiful physically, they were beautiful vocally.
Fast forward to the 21st century, a musical landscape where evil record companies look at the face first, and the music second.
If you are a size two with perfect skin and noticeable boobs, you have a place in Nashville society.
It doesn’t matter if you can sing, that’s what studio engineers are for (who are usually the ugly ducklings who had the talent but not the looks to be on the other side of the studio glass).
The same applies to male stars.
Think about it.
The last ugly singer to make it big was Garth Brooks, and I’ve been told by some women that even he has some puppy-dog cuteness that gets him by.
Today’s country music lineup is filled by women like Shania Twain and Faith Hill (who, while actually being a truly talented singer, still owes a sizeable portion of her fame to her sizeably portioned “hills”).
The only “fly” in the ointment of my position is a real former barfly, Gretchen Wilson.
She’s like the antidote to an overdose of Erika Jo and Deanna Carter.
But the fact remains, lesser talent is making it onto the music scene simply because pretty faces equate to more airtime on CMT.
The trend isn’t quite as prevalent in pop and hip-hop music, where a cool name like Linkin Park or Eminem or Hoobastank is more important than talent, but it’s still tough to find an ugly single artist.
“Li’l Kim” is the poster child for this hypothesis, since she has absolutely zero musical talent, but consistently makes the top ten because she has nice boobs and isn’t afraid to show ‘em.
To anyone.
To everyone.
At any time.
Today’s truth is that singers who would score no better than a seven at a local talent show are signing million dollar contracts because they score a perfect ten on the beauty-meter.
When it comes to Miss America pageants, I’m okay with that.
But when it comes to the sounds coming out of my radio speaker, I’d rather hear an ugly woman like Patsy Cline crooning about a life of struggle than a synthesized beauty like Miranda Lambert singing about heartache she’s never known.

3 Comments:

Blogger michelle said...

That is a prime example of how our society has become. Pretty said isn't it when you can only succeed in the music and television/movie industry if you are thin and pretty. That's why I am glad I live in the real world and not in "their" world.

10:20 AM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

How do you spell T - V? But, me thinks you doth protest too much. I want my fantasies a little gussied up. I'll bet you that spending a little real time with Reba would be a hoot. Rock on!

6:35 PM

 
Blogger Workman Chronicles said...

I'm with you, Michelle. I'm in favor of more ugly people in the entertainment industry.
I'd be happy to volunteer as a token chubby.
Actually, RD, I've often said I would happily marry Reba McEntire, so long as she promised to never talk to me. She would have to sing to me whenever she wanted to converse, because that annoyingly deep Okie accent would make me go postal within a week.
("That's thu nat that thu lats went owt in Joor Ja...")

*Morris

9:39 PM

 

Post a Comment

<< Home