The familiar strains of a song I’ve known so long that I can’t remember learning the words filtered into my house one afternoon early this year. It was that first twang of the acoustic guitar that got my attention, and the lyrics that I still knew by heart followed suit.
“We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout…”
Instantly, I was back in my childhood, riding in the backseat of my mom’s car on our way to my grandmother’s house. I could remember it all clearly; my little brothers in their carseats, the scent of the strawberry flavored chewing gum that my mom always kept in the cupholder, the seemingly endless stretches of old North Carolina highways between Wilkes County and Marion just outside the window.
And, of course, my mother’s double-disk edition of Johnny Cash: The Greatest Hits, which was standard fare on any road trip.
I couldn’t say how long it had been since I heard Jackson, which had always been my very favorite Johnny and June number, but the song that my spouse was playing in our house, far from my home state and all the memories, wasn’t quite how I remembered it.
This voice, doing Johnny Cash’s parts, was deep in a different way, a rich baritone smoother than Cash’s, but still quintessentially country. And the other voice- singing in place of June Carter- was lighter and less gravelly, but equally alluring, and easily captured the twang and charm of a country classic.
So who did these voices belong to?
It turns out, mysterious gay South African country singer Orville Peck, and drag queen turned singer/songwriter, Trixie Mattel.
These two icons of LGBTQ+ culture had come together to record a version of a song that had sountracked my conservative childhood home, and I was stunned. It occurred to me then that I had abandoned a hidden part of myself, amassing my love of and nostalgia for country music, when I came out of the closet and grew up. It seemed to me that my queerness and the political leanings that followed, were at odds with so much of the culture that had once been such a huge part of my identity.
On a personal level, this discovery was a revelation. But it also begged the question: had I, and perhaps lots of other people, been thinking of the larger entity of country music the wrong way all along? Clearly, I was missing out on a trove of artists such as these two, but could it also be deeper than that? Was there some alternate presentation of country icons like Johnny and June Carter Cash, a world in which the artists I had loved as a child were actually not the pillars of conservative politics that I had been led to believe?
The short answer, I found, was yes. But it’s complicated.
To answer all of the questions I had, I started with Trixie Mattel. Out of drag, she’s known as Brian Firkus, Wisconsin native who rose to prominence on RuPaul’s Drag Race and has since developed an expansive brand including a new renovation series, a tender and moving documentary, and a successful cosmetics company. Basically, Trixie does it all, and always in her signature Malibu Barbie-meets-Dolly Parton drag. But not to be lost in the long list of her accomplishments is her musical career. On her three existing albums, as well as the one coming out this summer, she writes the songs, plays guitar and autoharp (an instrument notably played by June Carter throughout her career), and sings with a sweet midwestern accent and melodious, clear voice.
Orville Peck, the baritone doing justice to Johnny Cash, also proved to be a welcome presence to this new world of queer country music. Wearing his signature mysterious, fringed facial mask and a traditional cowboy hat, he effortlessly combines the camp of queerness with the classic warmth of country music on his two studio albums, 2019’s Pony and 2022’s Bronco.
But Orville Peck and Trixie Mattel are certainly not the first artists in the history of folk and country music to be gay- or the first to sing about it, either.
I had assumed there were more artists like them (and there are- here’s a list of ten queer country musicians to keep an eye on.)
Additionally, I learned of artists like Lavender Country- an American country music band formed originally in 1972 with frontrunner Patrick Haggerty at the helm. (Later, he would duet with Trixie Mattel also.) When their self-titled album was released in 1973, it was the first gay country record ever.
What was more surprising, though, were the gay anthems and politically leftist lyrics from older country music- the kind that I had grown up on, by some of the artists that my conservative parents and grandparents revered the most. A prime example is Willie Nelson’s 2006 cover of Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other, which became the first LGBT-themed country song to be recorded by a major, mainstream artist. Nelson is known for his activism, most notably in regard to the legalization of recreational marijuana, and for being a longtime supporter of the US Democratic Party.
The same could arguably be said of country music legend and icon Dolly Parton. While she has categorically refused to speak about her personal politics, one could argue that her actions speak for her. Throughout her long and illustrious career, she has led the charge on all the right- or more on the nose, left- kinds of philanthropy. Dollywood, her official theme park, is the largest employer in her hometown of Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and recently announced its intention to pay all tuition costs for any employee pursuing higher education. Dolly Parton has also committed much of her fortune to worthy causes over the years, including AIDS research and more recently, Moderna’s Covid-19 vaccine. She has also spoken out in favor of LGBT rights and Black Lives Matter. In 2018, she removed the word “Dixie” from one of Dollywood’s attractions, citing its origins in Confederate values.
Reba McEntire, another favorite in my house growing up, recently released a reimagining of her greatest hits. Some of them were stripped-down acoustics, others were simple re-records, and others still were complete remixes. One such track was I’m A Survivor, one of Reba McEntire’s most well-known songs, which also served as the theme song for her sitcom, Reba. For the new album, this 2001 hit was remixed by Black trans artist LeahAnn “Lafemmebear” Mitchell. In an interview about the project, she stated that Reba’s team had been actively looking for a Black femme artist to work with her on this particular remix, and that was how she was put into consideration for the project.
Not to mention Johnny and June themselves- Cash, though notably religious, was by no means a model of conservative values. Though he never served prison time himself, he was also a drug addict, and some of his most notable activism was for prison reform, spurred on by his two live albums that were recorded prison concerts. He also put considerable effort into advocating for Native American rights alongside June Carter beginning in 1965. In the late sixties, he hosted folk singer and civil-rights activist Odetta on The Johnny Cash Show, singing a duet with her and sending a message to the world in the process. Like many of his time, Cash tried to straddle the line- when asked by then-President Nixon to play at the White House, he agreed to do so, but refused to play the requested racist novelty song that was proposed for his performance. Though perhaps misplaced, it seems when one reviews his lifetime of art, the core of Cash’s belief was mostly a hope for something more unifying.
So where does this leave us?
Again, it’s complicated.
Though the future of country music looks hopeful in the hands of artists like Orville Peck, Trixie Mattel, and others like them, there is still a stark reality to be seen. When previously mentioned Lavender Country released their trailblazing gay country music in the early 1970’s, it was mostly ignored by the mainstream selection of listeners. They performed at San Francisco Pride, and their audience was pretty much exclusively LGBTQ+ people.
You would think that half a century and the influence of some of country music’s giants might have changed things, but for the most part, it seems that country music is still just as ready to turn a blind eye to the artists who don’t fit the mold. And it’s not just LGBTQ+ people who are being pushed out of mainstream country music. In 2021, Jimmie Allen won the Country Music Award for Best New Artist of the Year, making him only the second Black artist to ever win a CMA, in the awards’ 55-year history. The first was Darius Rucker in 2009. And we all know what happened to the band formerly known as the Dixie Chicks- daring to speak out against President Bush in the wake of 9/11, they were effectively blacklisted from country music.
The grim conclusion is that country music continues to shun anyone who is different or dissenting, in spite of a rich history of diverse artists who have contributed to the genre. In my rediscovery of a culture that I once loved, I found a niche into which I fit- but I was also faced with the reality that it is just a niche. And maybe, unfortunately, it always will be.
There is hope to be found- but it leaves me wondering if this is at all the future that any of these icons might have envisioned for a dying art. Ultimately, we can only guess, but Johnny Cash’s subtle vision of unity seems to me, lost in the woods.