Ask Lemmy
A Fediverse community for open-ended, thought provoking questions
Rules: (interactive)
1) Be nice and; have fun
Doxxing, trolling, sealioning, racism, and toxicity are not welcomed in AskLemmy. Remember what your mother said: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. In addition, the site-wide Lemmy.world terms of service also apply here. Please familiarize yourself with them
2) All posts must end with a '?'
This is sort of like Jeopardy. Please phrase all post titles in the form of a proper question ending with ?
3) No spam
Please do not flood the community with nonsense. Actual suspected spammers will be banned on site. No astroturfing.
4) NSFW is okay, within reason
Just remember to tag posts with either a content warning or a [NSFW] tag. Overtly sexual posts are not allowed, please direct them to either [email protected] or [email protected].
NSFW comments should be restricted to posts tagged [NSFW].
5) This is not a support community.
It is not a place for 'how do I?', type questions.
If you have any questions regarding the site itself or would like to report a community, please direct them to Lemmy.world Support or email [email protected]. For other questions check our partnered communities list, or use the search function.
Reminder: The terms of service apply here too.
Partnered Communities:
Logo design credit goes to: tubbadu
view the rest of the comments
Good songwriters can do some good stuff when they are writing what they know. Bad singwriters can crawl up their own assholes, though. Some good Americana Alt-Country ones:
Mercury in Retrograde - Sturgill Simpson takes on the realities of "success". Really the whole Sound and Fury album, though; the whole thing is just him raging at the labels and expectations people put on him as "the next Waylon Jennings."
Bible on the Dash: Life for work-a-day touring musicians. Corb Lund and Hayes Carll actually come up with something useful about a hotel Bible.
Robert Earl Keen:
My Home Ain't in the Hall of Fame. Checking out of the Nashville rat race.
What I Really Mean: Wistful realities of road life for someone at a different life phase than the one above.
The Road Goes On & On: a vicious diss track at Toby Keith's expense. REK is like the chill Democrat New-Balance Suburban Dad of brilliant Americana singer-songwriters, so he probably wouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I will. Fuck Toby Keith.