Back To Country's Roots

In

the song Hall of Fame, from his forthcoming album Gravitational Forces, Texas singer-songwriter Robert Earl Keen croons, "My songs don't belong on Top 40 radio/I'll keep the old back 40 for my home." The lyrics could easily serve as the slogan of Lost Highway, a new record label that features singer-songwriters like Keen, Lucinda Williams and newcomer Ryan Adams—performers who are too cool for country radio, too country for pop and too headstrong to change their ways. The critically acclaimed Williams, whose new CD, Essence, comes out on Lost Highway this week, calls the label "a safety net for artists who might not sell that many records but have a good fan base." Adams, whose terrific CD Gold is due in August, is blunter: "This is a business of whores—it's about how much you can whore yourself out. Well, I'm not pretty enough to do that. So I've got to go with the label with brains, and that's what this label has."

Country—like pop music in general—has been regressing to childhood in recent years. Teen acts like Billy Gilman and Jessica Andrews are winning airplay on radio and face time on TV, but much of the music that's being made would make Hank Williams cry even harder into his beer. Recent country-music sales have been flat. In the first quarter of 2001, according to SoundScan, country sold 14, 871 ,000 CDs, albums and tapes, a 106,000 drop from the same quarter last year. And country seems slowly to be losing listeners to rap and rock, with its share of the music market slipping from 10.8% in 1997 to 8.4% so far this year.

Lost Highway, which was launched by Universal Music earlier this year, wants to reconnect country to its roots. Luke Lewis, the president and founder of the label, says today's country music has siphoned off the "twang and pain" that made the genre meaningful and distinct. And Lewis should know, since he did some of the siphoning—he was president of Mercury Nashville when the appealing but almost twangless Shania Twain rose to superstardom. "I don't feel like there's any irony there," Lewis says. "Shania Twain and [her husband] Mutt Lange are brilliant songwriters. In a twisted way, they helped remove the stigma that country might bring to performers like Lucinda or Ryan."

His new label specializes in alternative country or Americana—music with a sense of tradition and a neoteric edge (on Essence, Williams sings "shoot your love into my vein"). Lewis doesn't like such format names, but it fits. "A lot of kids feel that a lot of contemporary music is a bit too polished," he says. "Just as there's a growing affinity for roots-oriented rap, I think there's a growing audience for roots-oriented country that's stripped down and not overproduced." He cites as proof the commercial success of the million-selling, bluegrass-infused O Brother Where Art Thou? sound track, which was released on Mercury Nashville but shifted to Lost Highway.

Lewis plans to continue guiding Lost Highway down back roads. In September, his label will release Private Radio, a CD from actor-director Billy Bob Thornton ("I was a musician before I got into movies," he says). His CD features "dark story-songs," Thornton says, and two numbers are dedicated to his wife, Tomb Raider star Angelina Jolie. "They are songs that anyone can relate to," he says, "but there are a couple of lines that only she and I will get." He says a few tracks are "too country for country radio." Sounds as if he'll be right at home on Lost Highway's back 40.