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Life and Death in a Warehouse – BBC Wales

The first thing to say is that nobody dies. Yet that is hardly a ringing endorsement of the working practices on show in Life and Death in the Warehouse. The BBC Cymru drama lays bare the secret world of online distribution centres. And for anyone used to the quick and easy clicks of internet shopping, this is a must-see to make you think twice before placing your next order with Amazon. It makes for hard-hitting and eye-opening television. This is the worst of consumer capitalism.

Megan (Aimee-Ffion Edwards) has been accepted on a fast-track graduate scheme at her local centre. Becoming a trainee manager, she is tasked with ensuring that her team of workers keep up to speed with their daily ‘pick rate’. She is required to monitor their movements constantly via CCTV, praising those who exceed the target and calling out the ones who fall behind. Childhood friend Alys (Poppy-Lee Friar) becomes one of the latter when she confines in Megan that she is pregnant. Instead of receiving assistance and the appropriate support however, Alys is subjected to a ‘personal enhancement plan’ that remains fixated on the numbers at the expense of her health and wellbeing. It is hard to believe that companies operating in 21^st Century Britain would treat workers in this way. Yet as it declares from the outset, “This film is inspired by hundreds of real stories”. To say it is shocking then is an understatement.

Director Joseph Bullman ensures that there are plenty of close-ups, with the majority of shots trained on the faces of the actors to capture the intensity, pressure and emotional strain that their characters are under. It means that their environment is pushed right up against the screen. There is no getting away from it. We become embroiled in the ideology of this high-performance workplace, not only witnessing its effect on Megan and Alys but being subjected to it in some way ourselves such is the visceral nature of the storytelling. Edwards brings an incredible vulnerability to her role. She is at once very different from her infamous turn as Esme Shelby in Peaky Blinders. Yet in spite of her obvious nerves and eagerness to please, there is something of the steeliness of that character that seeps in as the drama progresses. It becomes a negative force in this instance however, used to block out a compassionate and caring side to Megan in keeping with the ‘customer-fixated’ culture that she finds herself trapped in. Friar, for her part, puts in a noteworthy performance as one who experiences the most extreme impact of that culture. The gradual decline in Alys’s physical ability to undertake the tasks at hand, and the increasing level of stress she finds herself under, is acutely felt, in part due to Friar’s concentrated effort to keep her character’s emotions in check against a backdrop of sustained bombardment under which the exhaustion, tears and pain slowly to show.

In a sense, both of these characters are subject to the injustices of a system that exploits, dehumanises, and almost kills them. The obsession with media PR over and above medical concern for an employee is but one unbelievable instance that breeds anger in the heart of the viewer. To understand this as reality takes some coming-to-terms-with, not least in the face of the preposterous responses of the management team. Yet Craig Parkinson (Danny) and Kimberley Nixon (Donna) play their roles with such deliberate ease that the manipulation and false empathy emanating from their characters’ intentions becomes entirely plausible. It makes one very aware of the insidious nature of language; and how it can creep unsuspectingly into relationships.

Life and Death in the Warehouse brings us the best in factual drama. It shines a daring light onto the unseen but now-necessary world of warehouse workers who are at the coalface of our online purchasing habits. It finds the companies who ‘employ’ them, “Some… you will know, others you won’t have heard of”, seriously wanting. Bullman directs in the same unrelenting way as he did with its predecessor, The Left Behind. Meanwhile, Aimee-Ffion Edwards and Poppy Lee Friar lead a superb majority-Welsh cast in depicting the dark side to our unrelenting consumerism. It should make us pause a moment and take note. It should even make us turn to look for something better. It shows that the rights fought so hard for in the past are in danger of so easily slipping away.

Click here to watch on iPlayer.

Originally written for and published on Get the Chance on March 10th 2022.

Featured Images (C) BBC

Rona Mac – Shades of Ham EP

Rona Mac describes the pink cover of her latest EP ‘Shades of Ham’ as a dichotomy. It is a colour, she says, that is both “fierce, bold and strong as well as delicate, floral and soft”. It seems a particularly fitting description for an artist who finds strength in vulnerability. But it also captures something of the sharp contrasts that imbue this record. The Welsh singer-songwriter is perfectly capable of packing a punch one minute and tenderly caressing the next. Not only is she inspired by the Pembrokeshire landscape in which she lives, but the rugged cliffs and sloping green fields seem to represent her music too.

Opening track ‘Something Good’ oozes intimacy. There is something about those ambling guitar loops and sauntering vocals, carried over from her debut album ‘Sheelah’, that transfix, and traverse the line between light and shade that defines her work. Unvarnished truth-telling mixes with splashes of colour that speak of hope, not only on a personal level but a political one too. ‘Polidics’ is a well-versed dig at those in power. The pounding beats as Rona speaks of the privileged “men in jackets sit[ting] importantly… pouring port in front of me” contribute to a deeply-held frustration at the way the country is currently run. Add into the mix a damning critique of consumerism, with its “money wrapped in lights so take it”, and you get a sense of the raw honesty and unbounded personality of this quietly-countercultural artist.

‘Polidics’ does not remain in a state of anger. Rather, it is a song of two halves, the second of which moves on “to where they cannot find me”, amidst “the flowers and the grasses”, from which “we’ll rise, a bunch of honest creatures fill the skies”. Combined with a more free-flowing alt-pop sound, it makes for a track that is ultimately casting toward a better, brighter vision of the world. On a more practical level, it also prepares the way for the softer sound of ‘The Road to Your House’. Here, the usual shimmering soundscape is stilled by the clarity of the acoustic guitar. Suddenly, we are witness to a beautifully-told story through folk music that feels miles away from the frustration of a few minutes ago. Sadness and regret still seep into its reflection but there is also a sprightliness contained within. The guitar solo in the middle echoes such sentiment, and is easy to get lost in. ‘Smoke’ has a similar ruminating quality. It reminds me a lot of Georgia Ruth’s album ‘Mai’: soothing and affecting; complex, even in its simplicity.

Final track ‘Paper’ has the same two-toned substance as ‘Polidics’. On the one hand a love-letter, on the other a seething criticism, it mixes alt-pop beats with acoustic reflection padded with the sound of waves. Similar to ‘Carageen’ by Jodie Marie, it suggests that Rona Mac’s Pembrokeshire location offers a kind of grounding, a place to which she escapes as well as from where she writes her songs. It certainly seems to have offered her the freedom to not be bound by conventions. ‘Shades of Ham’ continues to showcase this genre-fusing approach. It is a record that is undeniably Rona Mac. May she never compromise on that.

Originally written for and published on Get the Chance on March 6th 2022.

Featured Images (C) Rona Mac

Elles Bailey – Shining in the Half Light

Elles Bailey’s latest album, ‘Shining in the Half Light’, has been forged in the fire of the last few years. It is a record that speaks to the experience and perspective of the independent musician over a particularly turbulent period. There are hints and nods to both Brexit and Covid without ever being explicit about either subject. Feelings of anger, pain and frustration beat palpably through a hard Blues sound and typically-raspy vocals. Yet as the Bristol singer-songwriter notes, “this is an album inspired by those who spread love in a time of heartbreak, happiness in a time of fear & connection in a time of isolation”. There is hope and solidarity to be found in its lyrics, a place where the Gothic and the Gospel intertwine.

Elles has admitted at live gigs that the opening track, ‘Cheats and Liars’, was written in response to the woeful support given to musicians by the Westminster Government during the pandemic. It is the most direct shot at power on the album, its early firing signalling an intention that is sharp, uncompromising and full of emotion. Fans have come to expect nothing less from the UK Blues Artist of the Year, with the darkly-expressive drumbeats, electric guitar and bass billowing a smoke signal that makes it hard for those in glass houses to ignore. And even when they do, the message of third track ‘Stones’ makes clear that “all the while/ the sun shines through…/ the truth’s rising”. Hope springs eternal, as they say. Justice, in the end, will be done.

The rock-heavy edge of the first couple of tracks is tempered by more soulful numbers in the album’s centre. ‘Colours Start to Run’ is a reminiscent combination of the homeliness of ‘Little Piece of Heaven’ and the longing ache of ‘Miss Me When I’m Gone’, two songs from her second album, ‘Road I Call Home’. ‘Different Kind of Love’ brings a reflective edge to this section of soft Blues, captured beautifully in moments of simplicity – “lay your head down next to mine/ and we’ll listen to the rain” – and routine – “every day I sing the blues/ every night I say a prayer/ when my troubles weigh me down/ oh you always find me there”. ‘Who’s That’ then adds a drop of darkness back into the mix. Its psalm-like plea for help in troubled times evokes flashes of JP Cooper’s ‘Holy Water’ but with far more spectral qualities. The music haunts the lines delivered by the smoky vocals of Elles such that mystery and uncertainty reign. There is a brooding uneasiness around this track. It’s enough to ask along with her, “Lord tell me who’s that?”

By far the most critically-acclaimed track on the album, if radio play is anything to go by, is ‘Sunshine City’. And it is Elles’ long-time collaborator Joe Wilkins who deserves special mention here. For it is his infectious guitar riff that makes this song such a hit. The groove and rhythm that is produced ensures that this will be a real crowd-pleaser at gigs and festivals alike. Its four-and-half minutes could well go on indefinitely such is the pure joy that emanates from it. ‘Halfway House’ should have its own distinct plaudits too but for different reasons. It is sorrowful yet touching, broken yet undefeated, the final chorus line, to “take it one day at a time”, melting the heart with hope; and pulling it back from the overwhelming brink. It plants a seed of perseverance, the first fruits of which can be glimpsed in ‘Riding Out the Storm’. “I can’t let this refrain be the last” captures perfectly this need to continue in spite of circumstance or situation. It speaks of the grit and determination that mark both her music and her character.

‘Shining in the Half Light’ is an album that further cements Elles Bailey as a musical force to be reckoned with. It deserves to shine far more brightly that its title would suggest.

Originally written for and published on Belles & Gals on February 27th 2022.

Featured Image (C) Elles Bailey/Outlaw Music

Nia Nicholls – If You Want a Sign

The latest single from Nia Nicholls cements her growing reputation as a British Taylor Swift. It is no exaggeration to say that in both her vocals and subject matter, the Welsh singer-songwriter displays the kind of Swiftian vibes that reverberate back to the American’s earlier canon of hits. ‘If You Want a Sign’ stands on the edge of pop, with Nicholls injecting a huge amount of emotion into this balladeering lovesong. It is a gushing declaration about wanting to be with someone but not make the first move; hoping that “if you feel it too/ and you’re scared to make a move/ and you’re waiting for a hint/ well if you want a sign this is it”. It is a neat follow-up to previous single ‘Forever Hold My Peace’, to which there is a cheeky reference in the final chorus, suggesting that the two songs are close companions. Indeed, the guy at the centre of both seems unaware of the singer’s feelings toward him, such ignorance reflected in Taylor’s own single ‘You Belong to Me’, from 2009. ‘If You Want a Sign’ has a much slower tempo than her guitar-led bop however, with the piano taking prominence on an arrangement that fluctuates between all-out instrumentation and stripped back performance. It conveys well the sense of angst and longing that strain from Nicholls’ voice for the one “I’ve loved… since I met you three years ago”. And by the end, the listener sure feels it too. It is another reason why comparisons with the ‘Fearless’ and ‘Red’ singer are dutifully made. For Nia Nicholls has the ability to tell a story and make it as if it were your own.

Featured Image (C) Nia Nicholls

Clara Bond – Backtalker

Clara Bond may have her roots in British Country but she has grown far beyond its borders. The Exeter-based singer-songwriter has embraced a confident pop sound mixed with RnB and rock sensibilities to make her a truly cross-genre artist. It means her latest EP, ‘Backtalker’, is that wonderful blend of atmospheric soundscape and affective lyrics. The music always serves to tell the story of the song with such precision as to envelope the listener fully into its world. In the case of opening track ‘Misbehaving’, this means Clara’s very own mind.

She says of the EP as a whole that it is “like an honest reflection of what was going on in my brain at the time”. This first song gives an almost-detailed analysis of her innermost thoughts in a time of lockdown. Yet in spite of its contextual origin, anyone who has experienced poor mental health will recognise its central theme, as it touches on universal feelings of fear, anxiety, depression and loss of identity. It is extremely raw, with music that threatens to drown the words at times such is the overwhelming sea of emotions contained within it.

‘Wish You Were Her’ seemingly breaks the “endless circle/ downward spiral” with a punchier beat that reflects a strength of mind unseen in the first track. It takes as its subject the guy who has not got over his ex-girlfriend yet, and the character in the song will be familiar to fans of Catherine McGrath and her hit song ‘Wild’. Whilst there, “she always comes up in conversation”, here, “You talk about her like she’s magic”. In both cases, the guy is distracted, not yet ready to move on; absent in the moment except in his attempt to see his ex in the eyes of the girl now in front of him. But just like he’s not fooling Catherine – “I knew you wanted her when you looked in my eyes” – so it is with Clara, as she declares, “You think I don’t see/ you looking at me / thinking to yourself/ I wish you were her”.

‘White Confetti’ then adopts something of the fragility and brokenness found in the first track in its sonic, almost folk-like sound. There is an air of Gabrielle Aplin in this slightly off-piste piece, in both the music and the lyrics. There is a vulnerability unveiled, containing real sadness, that is really relatable. It is like being caught between a dream, a memory, and reality; not quite an embodied experience but a viscerally-observed recollection nevertheless, of “You and me, the city, white confetti trees… everything hung up like a dream… falling at my feet”.

‘Backtalker’ causes the EP to change gear again as it returns to the heavier vibes of the second track. It finds Clara back to her damned best as she takes on the patriarchal culture of the music industry. Drawing on her own experiences of being shunned and ignored by producers et al, the harsh chords of the electric guitar in the chorus especially reverberate with the rejection of the narrative that men are responsible for making her music. There is even what could be described as a tongue-in-cheek reference to her own ‘Pink Wine’, whether intentional or not, in the chorus’ refrain, as if any evidence were needed of her ability to write superb songs.

They don’t come much better than ‘You’, the final song on the EP. It is by far the most classic of Clara Bond songs, harking back to her earlier releases, with a greater emphasis on the words, which take primary place here. They convey the story of how her parents got together, undercut with a simple drumbeat and occasional guitar that serve to add a sense of wonder and beauty to its romantic nature. It is even better when listened to alongside the accompanying video; and is a track that becomes especially poignant when performed acoustically, as can be found on YouTube. It is a reminder that, at heart, Clara remains committed to the storytelling principles of country music, even as she has successfully ventured outside of the genre to find her own particular sound.

Originally written for and published on Belles & Gals on January 21st 2022.

Featured Image (C) Clara Bond

Tenille Townes – When’s It Gonna Happen

Tenille Townes continues to bear her beautiful soul with her latest single ‘When’s It Gonna Happen’. Honesty has always been the Canadian singer-songwriter’s best policy, and here she reveals how she feels sometimes about being single. Delivered in her own inimitable style, she discloses a part of herself usually hidden behind the “laughing… smiling face” that was her mask in previous track ‘Villain in Me’. In this instance, it is the struggle between sharing in the happiness of married friends whilst longing for a relationship of one’s own. The opening chords reverberate with a kind of angst that expresses this tension. It builds through verses caught between contentment and yearning before bursting out in a guitar-led chorus of country-pop that express perfectly how so many in the same position feel. There is something immensely relatable to those with a certain relationship status about the fact that “Sometimes I feel like I’m the last one standing/ I look around and all my friends are falling in love”. The mixed emotions in having “received your invitation” but “there’s no plus one, just me” are captured brilliantly by Tenille; her wrestling with delight and desire acutely portrayed. She manages to convey a state of being in the world that doesn’t invite sympathy or wallow in mushy lament but simply expresses a hope that even the most fiercely independent of people can sometimes feel. She gives credence to the notion that self-improvement and romantic dependence do not have to be mutually exclusive, “working on myself” in a “little house that I can’t wait to share with someone else”. Neither does the romantic paradigm have to be rejected, as the classic boy-meets-girl-in-café scene is unashamedly depicted. Yet even as she admits to being “scared to death I’ll end up empty handed / Can’t be the only one thinking when’s it gonna happen”, Tenille Townes stops short of selling coupledom as the ultimate goal of life. Instead, she simply expresses an emotion, being vulnerable enough to open up about a personal struggle that doesn’t define her but is nevertheless a part of her. It is this which enables ‘When’s It Gonna Happen’ to connect with those in a similar situation; to draw comfort and realise that they are not alone.

Originally written for and published on Belles & Gals on January 21st 2022.

Featured Image (C) Tenille Townes

Country Music: 2021 in Review

In this end-of-year review, one of our writers*, Gareth Williams, shares his personal favourites from 2021.

Song of the Year – ‘Next Girl’ by Carly Pearce

If there is one song that has been going around in my head this year, it is the insanely catchy chorus to ‘Next Girl’, part of Carly Pearce’s CMA-winning album. It is the combination of bluegrass and pop, banjo and drums, acoustic and percussive, that give it both a feel-good vibe and make its message – of the smooth-talking guy that’s only after one thing – memorable. Her lyrics manage to capture a kind of zeitgeist that speaks to a 21^st Century feminism which, in this case, expertly deconstructs the chauvinistic male, told through a toe-tapping tune in the process. It is empowering and energetic; a song for our times that, though emerging from real heartbreak, becomes a source of collective strength.

Album of the Year – ‘The Eternal Rocks Beneath’ by Katherine Priddy

Not strictly a country album, as Katherine Priddy resides in the world of British folk, but her debut offering, ‘The Eternal Rocks Beneath’, has been my go-to record of the year. I have had to return to it again and again such is the captivating quality of its mysterious soundscape, poetic depth, and reflective tone. It is like diving into a cool pool of water and finding refreshment in its hidden depths. It is no surprise that the album has garnered critical acclaim. It is a work of beauty; storytelling with a mythic edge arising from personal experience.

EP of the Year – ‘Perspective’ by Caitlin Mae

There is such a maturity to the music of Welsh singer-songwriter Caitlin Mae. She has the wonderful ability to reflect on her own experience and turn it into something of real wisdom for one so young. It is this that left its mark on me after listening to her debut EP ‘Perspective’. I said originally that “She tells her story, her truth, so honestly and unapologetically that her experience has the power to positively affect the listener”. I can certainly testify to that a few months on. I love the resilience and acceptance contained in this record. Bigger things are surely to come.

Gig of the Year – ‘‘My Saviour’ Easter Concert’ from Carrie Underwood

Actual in-person concerts may have made a welcome return a couple of months ago, but it is this special livestream from Carrie Underwood on Easter Sunday that was a highlight of my year. Coming from the Ryman Auditorium, Carrie managed to transform its hallowed empty space into an intimate hour-long set, performing songs from her gospel album that were at once uplifting but also reduced me to tears. The context of a second lockdown, looking out of the window over a garden showing the first signs of spring, provided space for reflection and hope that made this show even more impacting than it may otherwise have been. Her performance of ‘Something in the Water’ was a fitting ending, a moment that I still cherish from a concert that hit all the right notes at the right time.

Moment of the Year – Candi Carpenter at the British Country Music Festival

The British Country Music Festival in Blackpool may have served up my dream line-up of Katy Hurt, Elles Bailey and Wildwood Kin on the Saturday night. But it was an acoustic set from Candi Carpenter on the Sunday morning that was a real treat. She managed to make the expansive space of the Winter Gardens ballroom feel like an intimate downtown bar. As I wrote at the time, “Her honesty and vulnerability shone through in songs as diverse in their subject matter as ‘Sex, Drugs and Country Music’, ‘Exorcist’, and ‘Skinny’. Such deeply personal experiences, introduced in good humour, and told with such passion and poignancy, seemed to strike a chord with those listening”. The long queue to meet her after the set was testament to the incredible impact she made, and definitely goes down as my moment of the year.

Originally written for and published on Belles & Gals on December 28th 2021.

Featured Image (C) Katherine Priddy

In My Skin – Series 2

The second series of In My Skin has really got under my skin these past few days. Content simply to watch at first, I’ve found myself itching to write something in response after a final episode in which the emotional pull of this award-winning drama really tugged at the heartstrings. I laughed. I cried. I smiled at the poignancy and hope with which this coming-of-age story signed off. Writer Kayleigh Llewelyn has really captured something special with this semi-autobiographical series. And actor Gabrielle Creevy and crew have brought it beautifully to life.

From the continued subtlety with which sexuality is explored and presented, to its unashamed yet understated presentation of Welshness, the second series of In My Skin matches the achievements of the first. It does come across as much more arthouse in both pace and aesthetic than its predecessor. Yet this slow burn, highly-polished look only gives it a gravitas that adds to the verisimilitude which made it so relatable and ruinous to begin with. Bethan (Creevy) is still living out a compartmentalised existence, where her efforts to keep family and friends separate are increasingly tested this time around. Her mum Trina (Jo Hartley), in recovery from bipolar, is found to be working at the bingo by best friends Travis (James Wilbraham) and Lydia (Poppy Lee Friar). Her father (Rhod Meilir), still an abusive alcoholic, becomes the subject of taunts by class clown Priest (Aled ap Steffan) after his devastating actions toward his wife’s secret lover are found out. Meanwhile, her blossoming relationship with Cam (Rebekah Murrell) sees the roots of shame surfacing from beneath her steely exterior. All this forces Bethan to face up to who she is and where she comes from.

This emergence and gradual acceptance of personal identity is both beautiful and heartrending to watch. The scenes between Bethan and Cam become increasingly delicate as their relationship develops. More artistic shots, close-ups, movements, and softer conversations bring to mind the craftsmanship of Normal People. They help to convey a vulnerability in Bethan that has so far been hidden but that Cam gently draws into the light. Such tender compassion is matched only by Trina, whose fragility may lead to a relapse in the wake of husband Dylan’s actions, but is also a source of strength in her daughter’s time of need. In one of the most grace-filled scenes of dialogue, in the final episode, within the space of a few minutes, I found myself reduced to tears as she responds to Bethan’s brokenness with a touching recollection of love, failure, and hope. Creevy and Hartley are simply sublime in this incredible mother-daughter exchange. Their conversation is painted onto the camera lens with such gentle brushstrokes as to form the most exquisite piece of sacrificial art. It begins a chain of events which, though numerous and rich enough to warrant a further episode, nevertheless see Bethan find her wings and set off via coach for a new life in London town. The look-to-camera right at the end, complete with a modest, appreciative smile, only adds to the positive vitality which imbues these final moments of a series that will be sorely missed but has ended on a high.

In My Skin is an extraordinary piece of television. It has made stars of Gabrielle Creevy and Jo Hartley. Kayleigh Llewelyn has brought something magical to the screen. I thought I’d said everything that there was to say about this wonderful drama. Turns out, in light of series two, I needed to say a little bit more.

Click here to watch the full series.

Originally written for and published on Get the Chance on December 11th 2021.

Featured Images (C) BBC

Eleri Angharad – A Merry Eleri Christmas

Welsh singer-songwriter Eleri Angharad is ending a successful 2021 on a suitably festive note. A Merry Eleri Christmas is a pleasant four-track EP that returns to her folk roots whilst retaining an element of that experimental pop that worked so well on her debut EP, Nightclub Floor. Opening track ‘Homemade Christmas’ certainly evokes the feel of her 2019 album Earthbound, with a ballad-like piano and subtle sleigh bells contributing to a romantic story told with Eleri’s soft and harmonious vocals front and centre. The stripped back nature of her music means that her cover of Justin Bieber’s ‘Mistletoe’ is much slower, less boppier than the original. The effect is a version suitably forged in rural Wales rather urban Tennessee. Not that Celtic folk defines this EP. ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ retains the sultry pop of ‘New Sin’, speaking to an independence that is the opposite of the first track. There is an appropriately bluesy guitar in the bridge that adds to an overall sense of self-empowerment, expressed perfectly in the lyrics “Santa’s little helper I was never gonna be/ or a pretty little angel sitting on your Christmas tree”. The production here is far from that found on final track ‘Santa Baby’. It is surprisingly acoustic, offering none of the seductiveness found in some other versions; instead, returning to the playfulness of Eartha Kitt’s original but with much more innocence infused into the fun. It ends an EP that is sweetly festive without being too sickly; is easy listening but not saccharine.

Originally written for and published on Get the Chance on December 3rd 2021.

Featured Image (C) Eleri Angharad

Country-Pop Music: Chet Atkins and the Nashville Sound

Critics of the ‘Nashville/ Taylor Swift effect’ often argue that it has led to an identity crisis in country music. Debates over the last few years have centred around the idea that the genre has moved so far toward pop that it has somehow lost its soul. Songs such as ‘Meant to Be’ by Florida Georgia Line ft. Bebe Rexha and ‘Old Town Road’ by Lil Nas X ft. Billy Rae Cyrus have only added fuel to the fire. Maren Morris is often accused of not being a country artist. And Kacey Musgraves’ latest release was declared ineligible for Best Country Album at this year’s Grammys.

Far from being a unique event in its history, however, the incorporation of pop elements into country music actually forms part of its tradition. Go back to the 1960s, for example, and what is known as “The Nashville Sound” was akin to that which is happening today. Back then, it was a virtuoso guitar player by the name of Chet Atkins who was leading the charge. Described by one author as “a formidable solo performer whose polished country licks were abetted by his interest in classical, Latin, and pop guitar”, Atkins’ openness to orchestral sounds, vocal choruses and smooth tempos saw him make an indelible mark on the industry*. By introducing these elements into the songs of people like Eddy Arnold, Jim Reeves and Charley Pride, as primary producer at RCA Nashville, he made a conscious choice to appeal to the mainstream market. By also taking the “twang” out of it, as Atkins described it, the effect was to usher in a new era in country music.

“The Nashville Sound” was famously described by Atkins through the jangling of coins in his pocket. Some would argue that this belies a genre famed for its authenticity and rural Southern roots. Yet this trend toward commercial appeal, both then and now, is as much a part of country music’s identity. Nashville’s undisputed place today as “Music City”, for example, owes a huge debt to the likes of Chet Atkins and fellow producer Owen Bradley who, by recording country songs as though they were standards, made country music big business in the process.

*quote from ‘In the Country of Country: A Journey to the Roots of American Music’ (1997) by Nicholas Dawidoff

Originally written for and published on Belles & Gals on December 3rd 2021.