Page 5 of August Lane
Not at all. My mama loved Dolly and Reba. It’s my childhood soundtrack, too.
Emma:
Okay, well. I don’t want to push back too much because this is your experience we’re talking about today. But country music has a massive problem with race.
Jojo:
But like you said, this is about my experience, right? My choices. I chose it for the same reason anyone chooses anything: out of love.
Emma:
Right. I think I understand. When I ask that question, it’s a form of othering, isn’t it? Like, the goal of this podcast is to normalize diversity in country music, prove it’s always been more than conservative white men, but I’m treating you like something different.
Jojo:
Oh, I am different. Ain’t nobody out here doing what I’m doing, that’s for damn sure.
Emma:
[laughs] Noted, yes. Absolutely.
Jojo:
I don’t know about othering. But it’s a wasted question. The answer’s sitting right there in my work. All you have to do is listen.
CHAPTER ONE
2023
The last guitar chord hung in the frigid air that pumped relentlessly from the air vents of the Memphis Best Value Bar and Lounge, while the customers stared blankly at Luke Randall like they were still waiting for things to get interesting. Someone cleared their throat, and the sound startled them out of a trance. Their applause was slow and drenched in pity. But, hell, he’d take it. These days, he’d take anything that wasn’t ambivalence.
