Another country controversy

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Country music has had a tumultuous year, with hit songs advocating (to some) vigilantism …

… and (according to left-wing idiots, but I repeat myself) lynching or something:

And now, apparently not to the airwaves, enter Oliver Anthony …

… about which Christian Britschgi writes:

The internet (or at least the most “online” right-wing corners of it) is abuzz about the hit new song “Rich Men North of Richmond” from heretofore unknown country/folk singer Oliver Anthony.

Released late last week, the song features a solo Anthony on his guitar as he belts out, with great sorrow and personal hurt, lyrics complaining about the falling value of the dollar, the heavy burden of taxation, welfare recipients’ purchase of junk food, and the sex trafficking shenanigans of Jeffrey Epstein.

These ills and many others can be blamed, as the title suggests, on “those rich men north of Richmond” and their totalitarian aspirations.

Lord knows they all just wanna have total control

Wanna know what you think, wanna know what you do

And they don’t think you know, but I know that you do

Anti-elitism is not the most novel sentiment for a folky country song.

Still, some genuinely funny lines (“I wish politicians would look out for miners, and not just minors on an island somewhere,” and “if you’re 5-foot-3 and you’re 300 pounds, taxes ought not to pay for your bags of fudge rounds”) made funnier still by Anthony’s incongruously soulful performance add life and originality to the song’s generic populism.

Sure, one might quibble with the idea that food stamps are primarily responsible for driving up taxes and inflation, even if they are spent on fudge rounds. But the song’s not meant to be a white paper. If you don’t take it too seriously, you can have a fun and light-hearted time jamming out to the surprise viral hit.

Regrettably, people have begun to take the song much too seriously indeed. Rolling Stone notes that the song has been a hit with much of the online right, which has treated the song as this generation’s ballad for the forgotten man.

Conservative personality Matt Walsh praised it for supposedly injecting some flesh-and-blood beauty into this sterile world. “The main reason this song resonates with so many people isn’t political. It’s because the song is raw and authentic. We are suffocated by artificiality,” he wrote on X, formerly Twitter.

Over at The Federalist, Samuel Mangold-Lenett describes the song as “a haunting, bittersweet lamentation for an America that existed not too long ago but may never exist again” and one that “depicts a deep yearning to return to a version of America in which people were not plagued by existential economic and cultural woes every moment of every day.”

The love fest is not an exclusively right-wing affair either. Sen. Chris Murphy (D–Conn.) sees within the lyrics a “path to realignment.” Now that rural voters’ hearts have been laid bare by the song, they can be won back over to progressive politics.

Perhaps this reaction is what one might expect for a song with lyrics that are themselves a little “too online.” Nevertheless, people need to get a grip.

Contra Walsh, the right-wing meme politics running through the lyrics is exactly why the song resonates with people. If the song were instead an authentic recounting of getting drunk or being unemployed, the track probably would have gotten about as much attention as Anthony’s earlier releases.

Sad country songs speaking to poverty and social anomie didn’t start with food stamps and “Epstein didn’t kill himself” memes. Something tells me that the people who kept coal country folk songs like “Which Side Are You On?” alive had some economic and cultural anxieties as well. And the fact that Anthony has the musical equipment and technology necessary to sound good and reach a mass audience from his backyard suggests the times we live in aren’t so lean after all.

And while it gives me no pleasure to burst the bubble on Murphy’s working-class realignment, not every song sung by a sad guy with a guitar is a window into the soul of blue-collar America. The Epstein lyrics probably should have made that clear.

Still, just because Matt Walsh and Chris Murphy like the “Rich Men North of Richmond” doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Like other pieces of right-wing musical media (think MAGA rap), it’s catchy and fun. It’s even more fun when you don’t take it that seriously.

Yesterday, I wrote on the Corner a critique of the message in Oliver Anthony’s viral hit “Rich Men North of Richmond.” The response to that short post has been universally negative. Along with dozens and dozens of four-letter-word epithets directed my way, I was told that my view was clearly out of touch, elitist, and condescending. Why was I criticizing the passion of this man who has so rightly noticed “what this world’s gotten to”? Am I blind or indifferent to the struggles, the suicides, the wrecked lives of blue-collar American men? Sohrab Ahmari, writing in the American Conservative, labeled me a “hunky-dory con,” adding that “Hunky-dory conservatism might please the right’s donor class, but it alienates the millions who can’t detect reality in its rosy picture of the world.”

Surely I must be one of those rich men living north of Richmond to be so arrogant and callous.

Well, I’m neither callous nor indifferent to the suffering out there. I’m not attacking Oliver Anthony personally or disparaging his character. Indeed, I called the epidemic of overdoses, suicides, and deaths of despair a “tragedy” and a “catastrophe.” And, as I wrote, I don’t think that the federal government or our national leadership has been an innocent bystander in any of this. Of course the government has wasted avalanches of money, stoked inflation, and made it harder for your dollar to stretch to the end of the month.

But you won’t convince me that the first-, second-, and third-most important factors in the fracturing of our society hasn’t been — us. We the People have been the cause of our decline.

On the economics, Ahmari writes, “real wages for the bottom half of American workers have been stagnant for the better part of two generations.” That’s a debatable assertion at best — see Michael Strain’s book The American Dream Is Not Dead — but as I see it, where the rubber hits the road, that’s not the biggest issue by far.

There are, according to a recent report from the U.S. Chamber, 9.6 million job openings in the U.S. and 5.8 million unemployed workers. Worse, the labor-force participation rate (Americans who have a job or are actively looking for one) has been falling steadily for two decades, roughly the period that Ahmari has identified — from 67 percent in 2001 to 62.6 percent today. If you talk to anyone who hires people or runs a business, the No. 1 comment you receive is, “We can’t find enough good applicants.” But are these jobs well-paying enough? Are there good blue-collar jobs out there through which young men can earn a living, build skills, and support a family? Yes, there are. In fact, there are serious shortages of good workers in the building trades. And I know that the U.S. Army and U.S. Navy will pay you tens of thousands of dollars in bonuses to ship to boot camp on short notice. So yes, as I wrote, “if you live in the United States of America in 2023 — if you’re a fit, able-bodied man, and you’re working ‘overtime hours for bullshit pay,’ you need to find a new job.”

We all know this is true. Even Ohio senator J.D. Vance, now a leading NatCon, knows it’s true. He wrote in his book Hillbilly Elegy that “Nobel-winning economists worry about the decline of the industrial Midwest and the hollowing out of the economic core of working whites.”

What they mean is that manufacturing jobs have gone overseas and middle-class jobs are harder to come by for people without college degrees. Fair enough — I worry about those things, too. But this book is about something else: what goes on in the lives of real people when the industrial economy goes south. It’s about reacting to bad circumstances in the worst way possible. It’s about a culture that increasingly encourages social decay instead of counteracting it.

The problems that I saw at the tile warehouse run far deeper than macroeconomic trends and policy. Too many young men immune to hard work. Good jobs impossible to fill for any length of time. And a young man with every reason to work — a wife-to-be to support and a baby on the way — carelessly toss aside a good job with excellent health insurance. More troublingly, when it was all over, he thought something had been done to himThere is a lack of agency here — a feeling that you have little control over your life and a willingness to blame everyone but yourself. This is distinct from the larger economic landscape of modern America [emphasis added].

That cultural rot doesn’t sound very hunky-dory to me, Sohrab.

Again, government hasn’t helped, but no, you won’t convince me that the course of our lives isn’t primarily a function of our own choices. I have been on jobsites and personally witnessed the new guy not come back after lunch. I’ve watched friends with a baby on the way choose unemployment and drugs. I know young men who’ve thrown away their chances. Indeed, that young man was once me — and could still be me — if I had not looked a mentor in the eye and taken his direct advice to stop screwing around, grow up, and get to work.

For the record, I’m not a rich man living north of Richmond. I’m an Okie, living in my hometown. I was raised in a middle-class family. I worked my way through college. I mowed lawns, built fences, and stood the closing shift at a convenience store. After school, I roughnecked in the west Texas oilfields for two years to pay off my student loans. Later, I joined the Marine Corps and served in the infantry. I’ve followed work to four different states and moved my family three times in seven years. My hands are rough and calloused. I know blue-collar work and what it’s like to make ends meet on blue-collar pay.

But you know what? If I had been born a trust-fund baby, if I had been schooled at Phillips Academy and Harvard, if I worked at a desk at Goldman Sachs’s offices in Manhattan and my uncalloused hands had never done a day of manual labor in my live-long life, this timeless advice would still hold true:

We, as citizens, as men, still hold it in our power to ignore the corrosive effects of our politics and the popular culture and get on with living the good life: get a job, get married, raise your kids up right, get involved with your church, read good books, teach your boys to hunt, be present in the lives of your family and friends, help your neighbors.

It’s not condescending to speak the truth.

Wright sounds like this non-recent non-country song:

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