‘I double-dog dare you to follow me down’: How the Inescapability of the Coal Mining Industry is Presented in Appalachian and Country Music

Throughout America’s turbulent history of coal mining, one consistency has been the use of music as a way of expressing both individual and communal feelings. Much of the music that has developed out of Appalachia tells stories of how the coal mining industry impacted everyday lives, using language and imagery surrounding the very concept of ‘the underground’ to present a literal and metaphorical darkness. Within the songs I have looked at, each artist uses the concept of darkness and descent to present the inescapable personal, communal, and environmental impacts of the coal mining industry. In a literal sense, the only place coal is naturally present in the environment is underground, meaning miners are required to physically enter a dark and dangerous environment that is perhaps not intended to be entered. Other songs explore the inescapability of coal mining through the mental and physical health impacts that the work has on miners, leaving them in a dark state. A narrative of death is also weaved throughout much of the music, creating a kind of cyclical connection between going underground to enter the mines and the inevitable burial, or return to the ground, after death. However, whilst coal mining is dominantly painted in an incredibly negative light, some music has been used to express how there was still space for joy and love within families that relied on the coal mining industry. Despite the hardships these coal miners faced, they were often making huge personal and familial sacrifices to carry out the work they did, and music seems to be a way to recognise that sacrifice.

Perhaps the most literal idea of downward movement in terms of coal mining, is that of the action of mining itself. It requires the miner to enter an underground, claustrophobic, and unpredictable environment. Steve Earle’s 2020 folk/roots song Devil Put the Coal in the Ground tells the story of the inevitable death that comes from a life working in the coal mines, in some sense presenting a lifecycle.[1] His refrained vocals are pushed forward by a strong electric guitar as he repeats the title phrase along with a finger-picking banjo melody. A heavy backbeat almost mimics the repetitive nature of mining as he sings. The idea of coal being put in the ground by the devil brings a religious connection to the song, suggesting that coal is such an evil resource that it could only have been placed in the earth by the devil. With many Appalachian regions having such strong Christian devotions, connecting the industry with a religious representation of ultimate sin suggests that there is no goodness to be found in coal mining. From the very presence of coal in the ground, to the action of removing it, the practice can only result in evil.

Devil Put the Coal in the Ground also discusses black-lung disease, a type of pneumoconiosis brought about by inhaling dust particles in and around coal mines, an illness unique to those that spend a significant amount of time in the mines.[2] This disease affected, and still affects, most coal miners throughout their lives, being underground and breathing in the coal dust essentially meant that the mines never left these people. Another example of the inescapability of the industry, the coal became a very part of the miners themselves. Ultimately, the separation between the mines and the miner becomes impossible, even after leaving the mines, the effects of the industry are all-consuming. Earle presents this in a kind of cyclical nature from entering the mines for work, to death as a result. Earle’s song also reflects that journey in its structure, moving from coal being buried so deep that “it will never be found”, to humans realising that it will literally and metaphorically, “be a diamond someday”, to the miners having to “dig the same damn hole every day”, ending with the inevitable result of death as the miners know that “the black lung’ll kill [them] someday”.[3] Over the almost three minutes, the song seemingly tells the entire narrative of the coal industry. The line “Already underground, I reckon anyway” presents the bitter reality that despite miners knowing what impact mining is having on their bodies, they are essentially trapped to a point of no escape, an acceptance of their return ‘underground’ in both life and death.

It is important to recognise that this inescapability is largely a result of the class situation in mining towns and the ways in which coal mining companies exploit and take advantage of these people. Whilst there is an awareness of the inevitable result of coal mining on health, as demonstrated in Earle’s song, it is often not by choice that miners remain in the dangerous line of work. Particularly during the early twentieth century, company practices like payment through the scrip system, company stores and even company owned housing created an inherent inescapability within the industry.[4] This type of entrapment often meant that for many miners, leaving was not a possibility.

The coal mining conversation is still largely present in contemporary songwriting, particularly among alternative-country and Americana artists. In Tyler Childers’ 2011 song titled Coal, he paints an emotionally charged image of the inescapability of the mining industry, particularly in regard to the impact on the mental wellbeing of miners.[5] He speaks of these miners having “sold their lives” as they “keep digging ‘til you get down there/ Where it’s darker than your darkest fears”, using his songwriting to reflect the suffocation and claustrophobic nature of the labour.[6] The way he speaks on the darkness of coal mining reflects the fears that many miners had, but were trapped in an environment that made exit from the industry largely impossible. His lyrics come from the perspective of a miner, starkly visual when he sings “I imagine that I'm getting pretty close to Hell”, using the imagery of a descent into hell to reflect a physical and mental decline.[7] The impact on the mental health of miner’s who spent long shifts underground in the dark led to an increased risk of depression, partly due to a socioeconomic disadvantage, but it should not be underestimated the impact that spending so much daytime in darkness had.[8]

To contrast against the dominantly male narratives discussed so far, Loretta Lynn’s 1970 number one hit song Coal Miner’s Daughter brought a female perspective to the experience of growing up in a coal mining community.[9] She sings of being “proud to be a coal miner’s daughter”, looking back on seeing the work that her father did, not as a cruel burden, but as a hard job that he continued in order to support his family.[10] This alternative narrative brings recognition to the fact that a position of working-class rurality does not eradicate the universal notions of love, pride and joy that fulfil a childhood. There is an often-projected narrative through literature, historical research, film, and music, that places a heavy focus on the pain and hardship of life in Appalachian mining families, and whilst this is largely true, it seems to eradicate the space for recognition of the love and joy that is still strongly present. With Coal Miner’s Daughter, Lynn is taking control of her narrative. Whilst Bill Malone might call her writing a “veneer of romanticism”, he acknowledges how she “stresses the redemptive qualities of love that transcends suffering”, the song allows Lynn to remove the dominant narrative and bring a sense of autonomy to the stories surrounding growing up in Appalachia.[11] “We were poor, but we had love/ That's the one thing that daddy made sure of”, she sings, acknowledging the lower class position her family was in, but placing an emphasis on the love that her “daddy made sure of”.[12] She places no shame on being a “Coal Miner’s Daughter” and instead replaces that often-shamed descendance as something to be proud of.

Interestingly, this song, telling the story of Lynn’s upbringing in rural Appalachia reached the number one spot and brought about huge success for Lynn. In an unusual case, her musical career offered her the opportunity to escape. But this led to some debate over the authenticity of her writing and whether someone who was able to leave this environment should be presenting it in a positive light, especially as it is still a reality for many families. However, to suggest that someone cannot celebrate their own upbringing due to their removal from the environment seems to bring about ideas of economically disadvantaged people being unworthy of self-made success. It continues the dominant narrative of pain that surrounds Appalachian people and places. Despite Lynn being able to leave the locational pain behind, the song does still acknowledge the inescapability of her family’s situation as she sings that “everything would start all over come break of morn” and that she “never thought of ever leaving Butcher Holler”.[13] Her movement into fame as a country music artist was not a common path, and so, her reflecting on her past, and the repetitive nature of her family’s work still feels entirely authentic. Whilst her storytelling is in a much lighter place than that of other artists, there is still a remaining undercurrent of inescapability, perhaps one of reflection on what could have been.

Charles Wesley Godwin, hailing from West Virginia is another artist who pulls strongly on his Appalachian roots in his songwriting. Sonically, his music relies on country/folk sound and characteristics. His 2019 song Coal Country reflects on the long-term environmental impact that coal mining had on Appalachia, to some extent, he suggests that this is a kind of death in itself.[14] After the exploitative practices of coal mining, the land now “lies broken, high, and cold/ In its grave of Appalachian stone”.[15] The scars and remnants that mining leaves even on the land are inescapable, even if the industry moves away from the area, its presence is so destructively dominant that it has a permanent impact. Whilst this destruction is acknowledged, the idea of a “grave” brings up ideas of remembrance and memorialisation. For all the pain of the industry, its roots are so solid in the region that even after an industry decline, the impact is still felt by its people and by the land. By Godwin using the phrase “grave of Appalachian stone”, we are reminded of the permanence of the industry.[16] Stone, as a material, is natural and long lasting, it is used for graves to mark and maintain the memory of a person or thing for as long as possible. As much as the coal mining industry harmed the environment, it will be remembered and recognised through the very land that it exploited.

In a similar way to Coal Miner’s Daughter, Godwin’s song does also contain an element of nostalgia. He grew up seeing his father work in the mines and uses these direct experiences in order to “make something beautiful out of that sacrifice” through his songwriting.[17] His combination of nostalgia and criticism encapsulates the complex relationships that many Appalachian people have with coal mining. Whilst the mining industry was exploitative and destructive, it was sometimes a labour pursued out of love and need to support family. To look at their work as a “sacrifice” brings together the personal devotion to the work and the narrative surrounding death. With these themes of death and inescapability being found in so many songs, it suggests that the struggle within the industry is so intense that fatalistic language is the norm.

To conclude, within Appalachian and country music, there is a strong presence of coal mining narratives that tell the stories of those in the past and those that still work in the industry today. Through a literary form like songwriting, we can understand the varying attitudes that people hold towards the industry, whether those be of pain, nostalgia or a combination of both. However, one strong link throughout the songs I have looked at is the theme of darkness. There is a common idea of a return to the very earth that has created this exploited product in the first place. It is demonstrated through a religious idea of descent into Hell, the decline of physical health until a point of death is reached, the fear that seems to settle itself deep inside the consciousness of humans, or as the decline of the land itself. As Bluegrass artist Sturgill Simpson wrote in his song Old King Coal dedicated to his coal miner grandfather, “Now he's in heaven and down here in hell/ the rivers run muddy and the mountains are bare”, further perpetuating the idea of the coal mining industry turning Appalachian regions into a kind of hell.[18] For many of the songs written, they tell a cyclical story of how the lives and land of mining communities ultimately begin and end in an underground, inescapable environment.

[1] “Devil Put The Coal in The Ground”, Spotify, track 3 on Steve Earle, Ghosts of West Virginia, New West Records, 2020.

[2] “Coal Worker’s Pneumoconiosis (Black Lung Disease), American Lung Association, accessed 08/05/24, https://www.lung.org/lung-health-diseases/lung-disease-lookup/black-lung.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Dr. Lou Martin, “Coal company scrip paid to miners often left them deep in debt”, ReThink Quarterly, 15 October, 2021.

[5] “Coal”, Spotify, track 4 on Tyler Childers, Bottles and Bibles, Hickman Holler Records, 2011.

[6] “Coal”, Tyler Childers.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Michael Hendryx and Kestrel A. Innes-Wismatt, “Increased Risk of Depression for People Living in Coal Mining Areas of Central Appalachia”, Ecopsychology, 27 September 2013.

[9] “Coal Miner’s Daughter”, Spotify, track 1 on Loretta Lynn, Coal Miner’s Daughter, MCA Nashville, 1971.

[10] “Coal Miner’s Daughter”, Loretta Lynn.

[11] Bill C. Malone, ‘Country Music, U.S.A’, 2nd revised edition, University of Texas Press, 2002, 299.

[12] “Coal Miner’s Daughter”, Loretta Lynn.

[13] “Coal Miner’s Daughter, Loretta Lynn.

[14] “Coal Country”, track 2 on Charles Wesley Godwin, Seneca, Big Loud Records, 2019.

[15] “Coal Country”, Charles Wesley Godwin.

[16] Ibid.

[17] BGS Staff, “Listen: Charles Wesley Godwin, “Coal Country””, The Bluegrass Situation, Nov 6, 2018.

[18] “Old King Coal”, track 10 on Sturgill Simpson, Cuttin Grass – Vol. 1 (Butcher Shoppe Sessions), High Top Mountain Records, 2020.