Music & Songs Archives - The Birthplace of Country Music
Listen
Play
Loading station info...

Songwriting with Ella Patrick

Trigger Warning: This post contains content about domestic violence. If you or a loved one is experiencing violence at home, please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline 1(800) 799-SAFE (7233)

 

There is something about writing a song that can scratch your brain in the most wonderful way, it makes you feel hyper-present; and removed from the trauma of existing. It’s like you get to take all the hurt and fold it back, and organize it into three neat little verses and a chorus. You can play it over and over; and hey you might even make some money doing it!

A photo of songwriter Ella Patrick posing with her guitar.
Photo of Ella Patrick by Nicola Aloisio Photography.

That feeling is what drew me to songwriting. I’ve been thinking a lot about Kris Kristoferson since his passing, and how he liked to quote the English poet William Blake’s thoughts on creativity. Blake said that if you were called to be creative by the divine you were “obligated to do so,” and that if you didn’t pursue your talent, sorrow and desperation would follow you throughout life, and even after death it would “shame and confuse you until eternity.” I don’t know about eternal shame, but I do know my need to create has fundamentally driven me. It has allowed me to be actively engaged with my life, and present with the most traumatic of experiences. I can always sit down and find joy from writing a good line.

Choosing the creative life path also saved me. After my first heartbreak I lost everything, my job and apartment. The man I had fallen deeply in love with had knocked me so hard in the mouth that he punched my front teeth loose, and from that my whole life became loose. I didn’t know what to believe in anymore, I moved back home and couldn’t find steady work; family issues lead me to living in a van and squatting in an apartment with a drug addicted dobro player. And then out of nowhere, I played at an open mic one night, and the gigs started rolling in. Gigs that paid decent, $175 for two hours plus tips, it was more money than I had ever seen, and I thought ok, I can do this.

A photo of Matty Sheets sitting on the roof of a car, holding his guitar in his lap and tipping his ballcap with his hand.
Photo of Matty Sheets by Laura Jane Vincent.

A songwriter at open mic once told me “Life isn’t a competition, it’s an exhibition, and everyone has something special to share.” Those words have helped me through the hardest parts of creating music; the judgment, fame game, the body shaming, and comparisons to other “big time” artists. Musicians like my friend Matty Sheets, who also just recently passed away, encouraged me to keep writing. Matty had me on air at his show on the community radio station WUAG in Greensboro, NC long before I had ever recorded anything. His excitement and willingness to share good music for the sake of the music helped light a fire within me for promoting local artists. It has led me to cherish the writers that might not be on the billboards, but work tirelessly to foster creative scenes in rural areas throughout the Southeast. If you want to hear some excellent songwriting, go listen to Matty’s music here.

 

While I can’t tell you how to write a song because there’s so many ways to do it, I can suggest a few books and tips for new songwriters:

A photo of a red book titled "Songwriter's Journal." It had a drawing of a crossed guitar and banjo on the cover.
Uncommon Goods Songwriter’s Journal, Ella’s copy. Photo by Ella Patrick.

Uncommon Goods makes a great Songwriter’s Journal and it’s organized in verse chorus verse bridge sections with separate pages to write in music and fret diagrams. I think any journal works for songwriting, but that one is really useful.

Also Hank Williams Sr. and Nashville songwriter Jimmy Rule’s How to Write Folk and Western Music to Sell is full of common sense advice for songwriting. One tidbit that has helped me, is that the “concept” of your song should be reflected in the title, and the title should come from the main line of your chorus. Hank says the title should be no more than five words long. I haven’t always stuck to this rule, but I think making songs concise, and direct is very powerful. Also the realization that songs are about concepts, whether it’s a back street affair, or a cold, cold heart; it’s the concept of the song that creates a backbone for the rest of the verses to follow, just like a thesis statement in an essay.

 

 

Tom T. Hall’s The Songwriter’s Handbook is another one I would recommend. Tom T. is known as “The Storyteller” of country music, and he saw “songwriting is as much a craft as it is a talent “. He was known for waking up at the crack of dawn with his coffee, and writing as a daily practice. Tom T. says that every line should be able to stand by itself, and be a complete thought. Take for example the line from his hit song Harper Valley PTA:

“I wanna to tell you all a story ‘bout a Harper Valley Widowed wife”

Cover of "How to Write Folk and Western Music to Sell" by Hank Williams and Jimmy Rule. It has a photo of Hank Williams smiling on the cover.
“How to Write Folk and Western Music to Sell” By Hank Williams and Jimmy Rule from The Hank Williams Museum.

 

It says a lot, and gives context to what we’re talking about; a story that wants to be told, about a widowed wife from Harper Valley. Whereas a new writer might write a more cliche line like:

“Well let me tell you a story”

It’s much weaker, and does nothing to define the direction or concept of the song. At any rate, thinking about the strength and power of each line has been a huge writing tool.

I’m thankful to share my two cents on songwriting, and hope this post helps light a new fire for someone. If you feel the urge to create, I’m with Blake, you have to do it! Be encouraged, it will make your life much richer, not just from the potential gigs (which by the way now-a-days pay less and are harder to come by) but from the perspective you will gain about life’s twists, turns, traumas, and tribulations.

This blog goes along with our current Special Exhibit: Songwriter Musicians, on display now through December 31, 2024.

Ella Patrick is an associate producer and DJ for Radio Bristol, she is also a songwriter who sings under the moniker Momma Molasses, and performs regionally.

Country Music as an Academic Probe

“Country music”, along with its variations, is not often a term you’d associate with academia, at least not until you have a good understanding of the vast field of musicology. As a historian of music, I often find myself at the crossroads trying to explain what I study and how I study it. My succinct answer is, a historian of music studies music, but not strictly musicologically, but rather uses music to scrutinize history. This, in my opinion, is disparate from music historians, or musicologists with an emphasis on history, for whom the product of music itself is the central subject. As for country music historians, country music as an art form comes first and foremost, but that doesn’t mean it’s just about the music. As a genre with humble roots, one can’t talk about country and folk music without referring to historical and sometimes political contexts.

Today, country music is a recognized, albeit small, academic discipline with international appeal. One of American folk music’s early advocates, Charles Seeger (1886-1979) helped spearhead the founding of the Society of Ethnomusicology (SEM). Seeger envisioned for music to be communicated and studied musically, instead of merely through linguistics as crutch. He advocated the role of the (ethno)musicologist to be a transmitter of music but also critic of culture. The field today has mostly evolved a long way from the days of Seeger. Musicology nevertheless still relies heavily on textual analyses of music, which, tellingly, did not necessarily become a point of concern for professionals. Currently, country music in academia is taught primarily as a form of performing arts, and less as a theory or history. The International Country Music Conference (ICMC), founded in 1983,  has been held annually at Belmont University in Nashville, Tennessee since 1998. This year it runs from May 30th to June 1st.

A white man holding a baby plays a piano outside a trailer while a standing woman plays fiddle and two children sit on a bench beside her.
Ethnomusicologist Charles Seeger, Jr., with his wife, Constance, and their three sons, Charles III, John, and Pete. This photograph may be from a tour they made of the American South in a homemade trailer. Image is from the National Photo Company (1921) and is in the public domain.

For those who aspire to become professional musicians or work in the country music industry and adjacent, East Tennessee State University, Morehead State University, and Denison University offer degree programs in the genre. Other institutions in North America including the Berklee College of Music, USC Thornton School of Music, University of Miami, University of Saskatchewan MacEwan University offer, or have offered in the past, courses and an initiative on country music. The Country Music Foundation based in Nashville had published the Journal of Country Music from 1971 to 2007. The journals are archived and still accessible through many higher institutions, as well as the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum digital archive.

If you are interested in reading academic writings on country music, a good place to start is with anything by historian Bill C. Malone, professor of history emeritus at Tulane University. Country Music U.S.A. (1968) is inarguably the first academic history book on country music. The turn of the twentieth century saw the political bifurcation within country music, shown through monographs such as Charles K. Wolfe’s Country Music goes to War (2005) and Rednecks and Bluenecks: The Politics of Country Music (2007) by journalist Chris Willman. In recent years, academics have leaned more toward socio-political themes, displayed in work like Diane Pecknold’s Hidden in the Mix: the African American Presence in Country Music (2013), Nadine Hubbs’ Rednecks, Queers, and Country Music (2014), Peter La Chapelle’s I’d Fight the World: A Political History of Old-Time, Hillbilly, and Country Music (2019), and anthology Whose Country Music? Genre, Identity, and Belonging in Twenty-First-Century Country Music Culture(2022).

Collaged image of the cover of four books. Country Music U.S.A, Rednecks and Bluenecks: The Politics of Country Music, Hidden in the Mix: the African American Presence in Country Music, and Rednecks, Queers, and Country Music.

Just like the grassroots of country music itself, the academia of country music also reflects the debates that are present in the country music scene. The problem of “authenticity” has plagued various art forms and genres, but with a genre like country music, it is particularly prominent. Recently, philosophy professor Evan Malone published an excellent piece on the topic in the British Journal of Aesthetics in a 2023 issue. With references to a range of scholars with backgrounds from Anthropology to Aesthetics with an emphasis on country music, including Jack Bernhardt, John Dyck, Richard Shusterman, it demonstrates the versatile ways country music can be studied academically.

In my very own first year of PhD for a final’s assignment, I assembled a lecture in history on medieval Celtic and African musical traditions and their manifestations in Appalachian folk music—a connection that often surprises non-listeners. Outside of traditional academia, current events surrounding and within country music have been covered by journalists and critics, such as Emily Nussbaum’s 2023 piece for The New Yorker.

Alas, it is challenging to include a more thorough academic country music discography here. In an effort to keep this blog digestible, I am only able to give you taste of the available literature and must leave many scholars out of this post. I encourage you to start your own reading journey and dive into the academic world of country music with me. As country music enters a new phase both artistically and in popularity, we can certainly anticipate further exciting discussions in the near future!

Image of a young Chinese-American woman with long black hair and wearing a grey long sleeve shirt.
Emily Lu, PhD Candidate at Florida State University.

Guest Blogger Emily Lu is a PhD candidate in History at Florida State University in Tallahassee, Florida.

Who is Linda Martell? The Story of the First Commercially Successful Black Woman in Country Music

This month is African American Music Appreciation Month, to celebrate, I want to shed some light on a particularly underappreciated artist. As time passes, some artists are forgotten for their achievements until someone rediscovers them. One of these artists is Linda Martell, the first commercially successful Black female artist. A self-titled website calls her the “unsung hero of the genre,” and a Rolling Stone article refers to her as “Country’s Lost Pioneer.” Recently, Martell has reentered the public radar after being mentioned in Beyonce’s album Cowboy Carter, specifically on two songs, “Spaghetti” and “The Linda Martell Show”. After the release of the album, magazines such as The Rolling Stone soon began publishing articles with titles of “Beyoncé’s ‘Cowboy Carter’ Includes a Shout-Out to Linda Martell — Who Is She?” Let’s find out! 

Up close image of Black woman singing into a mic.
Linda Martell in Ebony Magazine, March 1970.

Linda Martell was born Thelma Bynem on June 4, 1941, in Leesville, South Carolina. She was one of five children to parents Willie Mae and Clarence Bynem. Her mother worked in chicken slaughterhouses, while her father was a sharecropper and preacher in a Baptist Church. Her church life influenced her love of music, and her gospel roots can be heard on later recordings. She recalled that growing up, her family would listen to the radio station WLAC which was based in Nashville and played country music. Her father’s favorite song was “Your Cheatin’ Heart” by Hank Williams, and he would sing it around the house often.  

In her teenage years, she formed an R&B trio with her sister and their cousin, creating “Linda Martell and the Anglos” (later spelled “Angelos”). By the early 1960s, she was touring with the group and performing at clubs. They caught the attention of a local DJ named Charles “Big Saul” Greene, who suggested Bynem use the name Linda Martell. He wrote her a note stating, “Your name is Linda Martell. You look like Linda. That fits you.” The group soon disbanded, but only after recording a few singles with reputable labels.  

Bynem, now going by Linda Martell, continued as a solo act performing in nightclubs. While singing on a Charleston Air Force base in 1969, the crowd begged her to perform a few country songs and heard by William “Duke” Rayner. He offered to buy a tape of her performing. Originally, Martell thought Rayner was a “kook” and ignored him, but eventually decided to hear him out. He then introduced her to Shelby Singleton Jr., who was involved in the Nashville music industry. 

During her first meeting with Singleton, he shocked her by asking her to sing country. She recounted later that she had performed mostly pop up to that point. At this point, Black country musicians, especially female ones, still had a lot of trouble getting signed onto labels and performing. Singleton signed on both black and white performers but considered Martell a risky move because she was a woman. All Black country artists who were successful up to this point were men. Nevertheless, Martell signed a management deal on May 15, 1969, and a record deal.  

The next day she recorded a cover of “Color Him Father” by the Winstons. It was originally in the funk and soul style, but Martell transformed it into a mix of country and R&B. But more importantly, she focused on the storytelling aspect of the song. At the height of the Vietnam War, this song resonated with people. It is a story from a boy’s perspective after his father died during the war. His widowed mother remarried, and the song tells the boy’s view of this new father figure in his life – a very harsh reality for many in the years surrounding the song’s release.  

Album cover. The words "Color Me Country" sit atop "Linda Martell" in large white font on a black background. The title is above a large box that takes up most of the image with four different shades of orange boxes getting progressively smaller inside it until the middle box, which is filled with an image of a black woman singing.

They finished the album in a single 12-hour recording session. The album, called Color Me Country, included eleven songs, but “Color Him Father” was released on the record and as a single. It reached #22 on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart, the highest a Black female country artist had reached until the release of Cowboy Carter by Beyonce earlier this year. Martell soon appeared on TV, in live shows, and even at the Grand Ole Opry. She was the first solo Black female country singer to appear on the Opry stage and received two standing ovations.  

She was also invited to perform on Hee Haw, a comedy and country music show. Despite her success, racism plagued her career. After hearing her during rehearsals, a show executive approached her and attempted to correct her pronunciation of her own lyrics. She did not listen and sang the words the way she always did. She later stated, “He wasn’t too happy about it. But I did anyway.”  Charley Pride, a well-known Black country artist who had been performing for almost two decades at that point, gave Martell advice during a party: “Develop a thick skin and get used to the name-calling.” She tried to ignore it but never truly got used to it and refused to learn to tolerate how she was being treated. 

In the South, she was advertised as the “First Female Negro Country Artist.” Her first gig after signing with Singleton was in Poplar Bluff, Missouri. She later recounted that night, “You’d be singing, and they’d shout out names, and you know the names they would call you.” There was another instance when a promoter in Beaumont, Texas, canceled her show after discovering that she was black. He claimed that her “Fans would tell her she didn’t sound black.”  

Singleton recorded her record with a separate label from his regular SSI International label. This sister label was called “Plantation Records”. When she confronted Singleton about the racism behind that name, he denied it and said he chose it with no particular meaning. She stated in later interviews that she told him, “What you are telling me is that black people belonged on the plantation!” She recorded only one album with Singleton and Plantation Records.  

A black woman in a rhinestone studded outfit sits on a fence playing a guitar and smiling.
Linda Martell in Ebony Magazine, March 1970.

In May 1970, Rayner sued Martell because he believed that he deserved a higher commission from her. Singleton managed to make the issue go away, but Martell had other concerns. Singleton was focusing his attention more on another artist named Jeannie C. Riley. This was not simply a suspicion but something Singleton himself told Martell he was doing intentionally. After her year-long contract expired, Martell left Plantation Records. However, when she attempted to record with a new label, Singleton threatened to sue them, causing her deal with them to collapse. This trend continued and she was effectively blackballed, her reputation ruined, and she was forced into an early retirement in 1970. 

Despite her incredible achievements, her short career caused her to be largely forgotten in country music history. After her country music career ended, Martell spent the next two decades living a nomadic lifestyle, singing in bars and clubs, and on a cruise in California. At one point, she ran a record store in Bronx, New York, and at another, she was in Florida, where she joined an R&B cover band with her brother. Eventually, she returned to South Carolina to be with her family.  

After her father’s death in 1991, she became a school bus driver and later worked in a classroom helping children with learning disabilities. She became a local hero to some, but others still had no idea who she was. When magazines reached out for interviews, many remembered her as a “kindly older lady who worked for the school system.” After being diagnosed with cancer in 2004, she retired from her job. Up until 2011, she performed with a band called Eazzy, which covered R&B songs. For years, she lived alone in a mobile home until her health decreased. After that, she moved in with her daughter Tikethia Thompson.  

Collage of images with bright colors and varying textures surrounding a black woman in an orange shirt with teh words "Color Me Country Radio with Reece Palmer"

From time to time, she has come up in the media. She was mentioned in the 2013 film A Country Christmas Story starring Dolly Parton. It follows the story of a biracial girl who aspires to be a country singer. Parton tells her the story of black musicians in the genre, including Martell, showing her the LP cover of her only record, Color Me Country. A more recently successful black country artist, Rissi Palmer, named her podcast started in 2020 after Martell’s album and plays her music on the show. In 2021, Martell was nominated for and won the CMT Music Awards Equal Play Award. That same year, her filmmaker granddaughter Marquia Thompson started a GoFundMe in honor of creating a documentary about her grandmother’s story titled “Bad Case of the Country Blues.” And, of course, most recently, she was mentioned in two tracks off of Beyonce’s album Cowboy Carter

 

Guest Blogger Donna Walker is a student at King University and a Birthplace of Country Music Museum Intern. 

The Transformative Power of Traditional Music: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Dulcimer. Part II

My time at ETSU taught me a lot of things. I think the most important lesson it taught me was that I didn’t know as much as I thought I did. It started changing my worldview as well. I learned a lot about what it means to be Appalachian and the cultural inheritances that come with it. I grew as a musician, but I also began to think differently about my identity and the kind of person I wanted to be.

My work study was as a literacy tutor at a local elementary school, where I was assigned to a first-grade class led by a teacher named Claudette Decker. She became a friend and advisor to me. It was at her insistence that I began incorporating instruments in my work. Initially, I played a tune or two at the end of class before I left, but it became a way to connect with some of the more withdrawn children. It made learning more fun and helped some of them feel more comfortable opening up. It made me remember how powerful music was for me as a child.

I was becoming more serious as a dulcimer player now and had a better instrument. I met my first dulcimer teacher that spring: Jim Miller. He noticed my case one day and asked about it. We had a conversation and soon I was taking lessons with him. He took my understanding of the dulcimer to a new level. Our sessions felt like a break from the daily grind. Dulcimer became my joy.

Three people play instruments together in chairs in front of mics. The woman on the left is playing a guitar. The man in the middle is playing a mandolin. The woman on the right is playing a dulcimer.
Roxanne playing dulcimer with Jim and Cheri Miller.

After graduation, I worked as a preschool teacher. I continued using music in my work as much as I could, and the dulcimer was especially well-liked. I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve had to play a rendition of “Baby Shark” on it. I worked in childcare right up until the start of the pandemic.

The pandemic was a watershed moment for me. I was out of work and gigs had dried up, but it was during this time that I met my second dulcimer mentor: a man named Don Burger. Don and his wife Deborah became sort of like surrogate grandparents to me during the pandemic. He led a dulcimer group in Jonesborough, but I only got to have a couple of in-person meetings with the group before everything shut down, and the group moved to meeting online using video call software like Zoom. It was something to look forward to each week; there weren’t many things going on, and this provided us with the opportunity to come together safely.

Two people in chairs playing dulcimer together outside.
Roxanne and Don Burger

Don taught me taught me a lot about dealing with life and other people. He was more like a guru who happened to play dulcimer. He operated a small, now-defunct festival called Jonesborough Dulcimer Days and recruited me to help him keep it going during the pandemic. We would bring musicians into town and host them where we’d had our dulcimer meetings. Artists would perform for the small number of people in attendance, as well as viewers at home, via social media streams. He and I also set up around Jonesborough on different days and played our dulcimers publicly, often recording videos to share on social media. This gave me an opportunity to meet a number of dulcimer players, reunite with my old teacher Jim, and also play semi-regular gigs. In many ways, the pandemic was like a reset button for my life. It was a scary time, but on the other hand, I got to work on my craft and spend time doing things I enjoyed with people I cared about.

Don and Deborah moved back to New York towards the end of the pandemic, and I was deeply saddened to see them leave. However, Don left me with a couple of things. He recommended me as his replacement for teaching ukulele at the Memorial Park Community Center. I would also inherit a dulcimer class there from a man named Willis Jones after he became too ill to continue teaching. Being able to work with older adult students was a good experience because I could teach them about music, and they would often share stories or give me advice based on their life experiences. There’s a lot of valuable learning to be done in an environment like that.

Don also made an important connection for me. He introduced me to a man named Brian Mills, who runs a nonprofit called Art Transforms. It’s an organization that provides supplemental music and art education for students in the Johnson City School System. Don wanted to offer a two-week summer school class where students could learn about the dulcimer and build their own from cardboard using a kit. Since he was leaving, I was brought in to conduct the class. It ended up being very well-received, and we have continued it every year since.

When I heard about the Tradition Bearer’s fellowship, I didn’t initially think much about it, but some friends encouraged me to apply. I reluctantly did so, but didn’t want to get my hopes up. When I received word that I had been approved, I was overjoyed. It was a chance to expand on the work I was already doing with the dulcimer. It was also an opportunity to get more people involved with making music and keeping an Appalachian tradition alive. I used the funds to purchase as many cardboard dulcimer kits as I could and partnered with local schools, nonprofits, and the Birthplace of Country Music Museum to provide dulcimer-building workshops for as many people as possible, many of them children from lower-income backgrounds.

three images of a woman teaching. One with children sitting in a circle playing dulcimer. One with children learning to build cardboard dulcimers. One with a woman teaching adults to build cardboard dulcimers.
Roxanne in various dulcimer teaching roles.

The last few years of my life have been especially healing. I’ve been able to let go of a lot of the pain and bitterness of the past. I’ve also come to have a new level of appreciation for not only the dulcimer, but for teaching and community building. I’ve been able to connect with more people and introduce the dulcimer to a wider demographic. It feels like I am finding my place, and I’m very grateful for what feels like a second chance at life.

When I think about how music has changed things for me, it makes me want to share that possibility with others. Music makes the good days better and the bad days bearable. Music has helped me embrace my Appalachian roots and gain a greater appreciation for them. It’s also given me strength in the face of persecution. Our identities, our communities, our traditions, and our stories matter. Music can not only keep all of these alive but strengthen them. It is my hope that music can be a source of strength and refuge for all who need it.