I know. You don’t like Taylor Swift. Keith Urban offends you on at least seven, different, personal levels. Rascal Flatts makes you want to get all stabby with the butter knife when their wailing interrupts your morning bagel-and-cream-cheese ritual at the local coffee shop.
I honestly don’t blame you. Country music is a guilty pleasure of mine, but I’ll be the first to admit that there is a lot of drivel dribbling out of Nashville. A veritable ice cream sundae of uninspired banging on the same three chords with some cheap-beer lyrics messily ladled on top. It’s pretty hard to get your brain around all that twang, especially when there is so much great music out there that could be filling our earholes with audio joy instead.
But cast your prejudices about country music aside for a moment. While it may not be the height of melodic art, those guys down on Music Row understand the business. They get what makes a hit song, and why; all the minutiae that turns a regular guy with a hat and a guitar into a legend of Southern rock, or a baby-faced blonde bell into a stage-trotting goddess.
They’ve figured out what people want to hear, and the song writing reflects it. If there is any art in the industry, it is in the hearts and minds of the writers who, beyond all human belief, can still work the words “Georgia,” “redneck,” and “truck” into new songs in new ways. They use grammar to infuse the verses with freshness, even when the backing music is the same one-four-five progression we’ve been listening to since the Grand Ole Opry went on the air in 1925.
Let’s look at Tim McGraw’s 2009 hit, Southern Voice.
This song is the quintessential three-major-chord-progression that all new guitar/mandolin/banjo players learn: G, C, D. It’s plain vanilla ice cream, white bread, about as complicated as toast. But the writers (Bob DiPiero and Tom Douglas) manage to toy with the grammar of the verses, breaking/playing with some literary rules to great effect:
Hank Aaron smacked it / Michael Jordan dunked it / Pocahantas tracked it / Jack Daniels drunk it / Tom Petty rocked it / Dr. King paved it / Bear Bryant won it / Billy Graham saved it
The sentence structure is as simple as the chords: subject, past tense verb, direct object. But these sentences are perfect examples of the power and importance of the right verb; not only does each move the song forward with action, it’s also perfectly applicable to its subject. The historical subjects are allusions that build on the theme of the song (a single, unified “voice” of the Southern states) and give the reader (or listener) a concrete idea-cleat to attach their brain-ropes to.
The major rule violation here is the use of the abstract pronoun, “it.” In most other settings, this would be a no-no, as it’s an unqualified, unattributed object, which normally leaves a reader confused. But when the chorus comes in…
Smooth as the hickory wind / That blows from Memphis / Down to Appalachicola / It’s “hi ya’ll, did ya eat?” well / Come on in child / I’m sure glad to know ya / Don’t let this old gold cross / An’ this Charlie Daniels t-shirt throw ya / We’re just boys making noise / With the southern voice
…we see that the “it” actually refers to the eponymous “southern voice;” as if each sentence is a square on the quilt that makes up the culture of the American South.
Ever wonder why a song is so catchy? How it so easily grafts itself to your short term memory even when you actively try to force it out? Because it’s grammatically kickass, that’s why.
Not convinced that you should subject yourself to country music from one example? Then here’s another; this one form Jason Aldean’s Texas Was You.
This one’s chord progression is, you guessed it: G, C, D. It throws in a nice little E minor for spice, but it’s still as standard as it comes. But check out this gorgeous grammar writers Neil Thrasher, Wendell Mobley, and Tony Martin slipped into the verses:
Ohio was a riverbank / 10 speed layin’ in the weeds / Cannonball off an old rope swing / Long long summer days.
Tennessee was a guitar / First big dream of mine / If I made it, yeah, that’d be just fine / I just wanted to play. I just wanted to play, but…
Carolina was a black car / A big white number three / California was a yellow jeep / Cruisin’ down Big Sur.
Georgia was a summer job / ‘Bama was a spring break / I got memories all over the place / But only one still hurts.
The opening lines of all four verses are Subject, verb, subject compliment, a sentence structure that typically doesn’t move anything forward, as it’s only equating the subject to the compliment. The fragments that follow all support the initial comparison, building on the same image or metaphor established by the full sentence. It has an awesome effect in this song because it drops a declaration at the begging of each verse, confidently telling us what comparison Aldean is making.
It’s especially powerful when the chorus comes sliding in…
Texas was green eyes crying goodbye / Was a long drive / A heartache I’m still trying to get through / Texas was you
…and we get three more “to be” verbs, three more comparisons, showing us why he’s making all these metaphorical connections. The setup for the chorus is great, and proves that even generally inactive sentences/verbs can be used bring the hammer of theme down onto the nails of details in your writing.
I can provide other examples if people are curious, but popular country is full of songs that are captivating listeners with clever lyrics with even cleverer grammar. If you’re struggling with edits, or need examples of structure and verb usage, or just how to arrange written elements to get people interested, fire up some Eric Church or Dierks Bently and getcher country on!
“Bend those strings until the Hank comes out.”
Tagged: country music, craft and draft, grammar, how to write, jason aldean, lyrics, music, song writing, songs, structure, syntax, tim mcgraw, verbs, video, writing, writing advice
I appreciate your efforts, but I just can’t. I have minimal pop-country faves. Martina McBride and Miranda Lambert to name a couple. I like Blake Shelton only as a judge on The Voice — can’t take those cheesy songs. I’m more folksy alternative country. Mary Chapin Carpenter’s lyrics can stop me cold.
Haha, I understand. My first high school girlfriend got me into country and I just never climbed back out. Like I said, guilty pleasure. At least I can get a grammar lesson out of it 🙂
I loved this. I am a Southern girl through and through (born and raised in New Orleans, college in Alabama) and I LOVE country music. As a writer, I’ve grown to appreciate it for so many reasons as well!
Thanks for reading! I’m obsessively analyzing grammar, and these songs just stuck out to me. There are some other great examples, too. Zac Brown Band has some songs that would be beautiful poems.
Zac Brown Band is really awesome. I love their music.
Woah…! Nice post! I’m also a musician and songwriter but haven’t written in a VERY long time. I’ve come to respect some country artists much more than I used to. That said, Jackson Browne will always be my go-to north star.
Cheers!
❤ Jackson Browne. I play the mandolin (as my avatar shows!) but I've never tried my hand at songwriting. Not officially at least. I do listen a lot of music though, always with an ear for the lyrics.
There are a few country musicians I can really get into. Catchy songs, catchy lyrics, good storytellers. Unfortunately, I usually can’t keep the station on long enough to hear any of that. My reflexes are never more tuned in than when I have to switch the station from Toby Keith and that song about “when a hoe was a hoe”. haha
I completely understand. I’ve heard plenty of songs that make me shudder. Fortunately, there are a few artists out there (Miranda Lambert, Band Perry, Dierks Bently, Zac Brown Band, Josh Turner) churning out some excellent music. And writing, it turns out.
I found this super interesting! I mostly listen to 90s alternative and “indie” music, but secretly like Taylor Swift. Even my husband who is in a “country” band claims she is a decent writer/musician. Anywhoo, I loved the grammar bits, and now I’ll think a bit more about those catchy songs that get stuck in my head. 🙂
Glad you liked the post! I don’t actually dislike Taylor Swift. Not sure I’d go out of my way to listen to her, but a few of her songs are pretty solid, even if you don’t like her personal style.
I more than dislike Taylor Swift, I want to beat her in the face with a hot waffle iron, and the red solo cup song (while I appreciate it’s intent of general funnerness) makes me want to weep for humanity! Having makes said that Miranda Lambert’s gunpowder and lead makes me sing at the to of my voice and the song cruise simultaneously makes me wanna tackle Nelly but forget my rock star inclinations and go find me a good ole boy to go muddin with!
Haha, I think the dichotomy of love and hate in your comment reflects my attitude towards country, too. Love, love, love some stuff, other stuff fills me with waffle-iron related rage.
Lmfao, I an from Jersey, but my mom was born and raised in Oklahoma so I grew up with that old country, being an east coaster we of course have no tolerance for country music, I’ve been in Texas visiting family since October and feel a slow death creeping in, whenever I catch myself singing country songs I want to run screaming for the greyhound station to get back to civilization! I love my cousins but if one more person mentions how strange it is that I say you guys instead of ya’ll, our had the nerve to tell me that I talk funny I may just implode! I love old country, it tells a story, but now just as in rap music created after the 90s, the shit just talks about superficial things, where did the stories go? Has society become so mundane?