I haven’t listened to see how catchy it is, but “Try that In A Small Town”, from its lyrics, doesn’t look especially well written or constructed. It’s not a very interesting song.
As I hear about the return of state nullification and literal subversion of democracy in some small towns, I think about how America’s fantasy about itself is built on the silence of the things we don’t talk about.
I can’t know if Aldean knew the history of that courthouse he posed in front of or just thought it was beautiful. I do know, however, that we live in a country where a significant portion of our history isn’t taught. If he posed in front of the Liberty Bell, he’d be saying something we all understood clearly. Move that to a lynching site that is also an institution of law, and we get confused and say that things don’t mean what we think they mean.
Of course, this posing about what it means to be from a small town that the singer was never from is also part of American mythology about itself. Petit bourgeoisie with paid-for homes and boats claim to be a downtrodden working class with a need to restore a past that was fairer. They hop a first-class flight, or in a few cases, a private jet, to Washington to raise hell. It’s not anti-anyone. It’s just pro-them.
“Trying it” in the song is made out to be crime against the defenseless, disrespect of police or of a symbolic cloth. History says “trying it” can be a lot of things. Looking at someone wrong. Showing insufficient deference. Making money. Advocating for equal treatment. Running for office. Breaking a sports record. Simply being in a place someone thinks you shouldn’t.
I was 5 years old when Michael Donald tried it in a large town, on my aunt’s street.
I was 11 years old when Hosea Williams tried it in a small county.
I was 22 years old when James Byrd tried it in a small town.
I was 36 years old when Trayvon Martin tried it in a suburb.
I was 44 years old when George Floyd tried it in a big city.
I am 47 years old, and I am watching Patrick Braxton try it in a small town as we speak.
Things get to be complicated. This song doesn’t have to be either completely innocent or a white supremscist anthem. But when complicated gets uncomfortable, when we have to look at our complicity in horror and injustice that people who are alive remember well, we try to say it’s not complicated. It’s just patriotic.
It certainly is American.