From the swampy depths of Mississippi blues to the stark realities of rural America, certain songs capture the essence of a place and a history. In alt-country and Americana, artists like Jim White paint vivid, sometimes unsettling pictures, as in “Handcuffed To A Fence In Mississippi,” filled with “flying squirrels and nightmares.” Chris Stapleton, rooted in Kentucky bluegrass and Southern rock, directly confronts the ghosts of the South in his song “Ghosts of Mississippi,” lamenting, “Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me / Got me down in Mississippi where I don’t want to be.” These songs evoke a sense of place and unease, a feeling deeply embedded in the American experience.
This exploration leads us to another powerful track, “Good Corn Liquor” by The SteelDrivers, the band Chris Stapleton fronted before his solo career took off. “Good Corn Liquor” isn’t explicitly about Mississippi, but it shares that raw, potent Americana spirit. Finding this gem felt accidental, a welcome detour while searching for inspiration elsewhere. Like stumbling upon a hidden still deep in the woods, the song’s authenticity and historical weight immediately resonated.
What draws many to bluegrass and certain strains of country music is this very connection to American history, often the 19th century. Whether it’s William Elliott Whitmore’s stark narratives of rural life or Chris Thile and Michael Daves’s rendition of “Richmond Is A Hard Road To Travel,” these songs are sonic history lessons.
The SteelDrivers, hailing from Nashville, Tennessee, tap into this vein with “Good Corn Liquor.” While not explicitly set during the Civil War, the song exists in that shadowy borderland – a timeless space where the echoes of that era still resonate. It could be post-Civil War, pre-Prohibition, or even a modern-day tale; the ambiguity adds to its power. This “Corn Song” – a narrative spun around the illicit distillation of corn liquor – becomes a miniature American tragedy, a white man’s blues played out on banjo, fiddle, guitar, and bass. The music itself mirrors the story: a relentless, almost frantic rhythm that propels the narrative towards an inevitable, dark conclusion hidden deep in a rural hollow.
Stapleton’s voice, gravelly and soulful, immediately pulls you in with the chorus:
Well the sun don’t shine
On a moonshine still
Copper line hiding in the side of a hill
This imagery is instantly evocative, painting a picture of hidden stills and clandestine operations. Like Bob Dylan’s “Moonshiner,” which also captivated with its raw portrayal of backwoods distilling, “Good Corn Liquor” feels authentic and steeped in tradition. Dylan’s Self Portrait bootleg version, with its collection of old, mournful tunes like “Copper Kettle,” “Little Sadie,” and “Pretty Saro,” served as a gateway to this world of bluegrass and country storytelling. Stapleton, however, wastes no time in getting to the heart of the matter:
It’ll get you there
It’ll get you there quicker
Fruit jar full of that good corn liquor
There’s a dark promise in these lines, a sense of both allure and danger. Much like Tom Waits’ gothic tales, exemplified in “Don’t Go Into That Barn” with its mention of “Everett Lee broke loose again… high on potato and tulip wine,” “Good Corn Liquor” hints at a story that will veer into darkness.
Stapleton continues the narrative, grounding the allure of corn liquor in harsh realities:
Now when I was young
About five or six
Daddy lost a job and my mama took sick
And the times got tough
And mama got sicker
Daddy started running that good corn liquor
The chorus returns, heavier now with the weight of the unfolding story. The “rickety, remorseless tune” underscores the grim certainty that this path, like the bootlegging drama depicted in Lawless, penned by Nick Cave and set in Virginia, is destined for a tragic end. And it is:
I remember that night
It was a blood red moon
And daddy was doing what he had to do
When a shot rang out
And the sheriff pulled the trigger
And daddy stopped running that good corn liquor
The song concludes with another chorus, the addictive rhythm fading out, leaving a lingering sense of unease. The story, like good corn liquor itself, stays with you – coiled in the mind, a potent taste of American hardship and resilience.
Reflecting on “Good Corn Liquor,” and these explorations into the heart of Americana music, reveals a profound connection to history and place. While The SteelDrivers may be playing at Confederate sites, the music transcends specific ideologies. It speaks to a broader, more human experience of struggle, survival, and the stories etched into the landscape. This “corn song,” in its stark portrayal of moonshining and its consequences, becomes a powerful example of how bluegrass and country music can distill complex narratives into unforgettable sonic experiences.
