Country music is a diverse genre, and if you have any doubts about that, just take a look at two artists who turn 50 this week. You would have a difficult time arguing that Mary Chapin Carpenter and Sammy Kershaw are anything but polar opposites.
Carpenter (born Feb. 21, 1958) hails from Princeton, N.J., lived during her youth in Japan, attended an Ivy League school and emerged in country music with a sound derived from folk music. There's not an ounce of twang in her understated vocal presence, and her politics are decidedly blue: At the height of her popularity in the early-1990s, she raised money and awareness for AIDS charities; and in 2000, she performed at the Democratic National Convention.
Kershaw (born Feb. 24, 1958) grew up in Kaplan, La., chose the club circuit over college and got his first hits by singing love songs with car metaphors and references to secluded country lakes. With a vocal style that borrows heavily from George Jones, he is one of the twangiest vocalists to appear nationally in the last 20 years, and his politics are decidedly red: He ran as a Republican for lieutenant governor of Louisiana last year, though he found himself having to insist to reporters he was serious about his candidacy.
The beauty of this dichotomy is that these two artists co-existed quite nicely on country radio for years. Carpenter brought an intellectual presence to the genre along with a wry sense of humor (her "I Feel Lucky" depiction of a barroom scene in which Lyle Lovett and Dwight Yoakam compete for her affections is still chuckle-worthy). When she turned to others for material, she was apt to draw on the talents of alt-country figure Lucinda Williams ("Passionate Kisses") or rocker Mark Knopfler ("The Bug").
Kershaw lent a raw, manly air to country, and the titles of some of his singles -- "Yard Sale," "Queen of My Double Wide Trailer," "Your Tattoo" -- show his artistic penchant for songs drawn from the lower end of the economic scale. He ran his career by the book, recording in Nashville and drawing from some of Music City's most-respected songwriters, including Bob McDill ("She Don't Know She's Beautiful") and Mark D. Sanders ("Vidalia").
One could show similar contrasts among current country hitmakers -- Taylor Swift and Craig Morgan, for example; or Rascal Flatts versus Alan Jackson. Critics slam country as one-dimensional hillbilly fare, but there's actually a lot of room for a lot of different characters in the format.
Got my copy of the last issue of No Depression magazine in the mail a few days ago and I'm stretching out the reading to make it last longer. I hate seeing magazines go under. Especially good music magazines. There haven't been many of them and I treasure the ones that have made the world a better place for their readers and the singers and musicians they write about.And No Depression was one of those. Never flashy, never shallow, No Depression has been serious about the music, without being deadly, if you know what I mean. The last issue before me on my desk has Buddy Miller on the cover, and that's a very fitting choice. Miller is a musician's musician, a singer's friend, a thrilling guitarist, a solid songwriter and singer, and just plain a good guy to hang out with.
©2008 Country Music Television, Inc., a Viacom company. A division of 
