When I was a tween, I liked all kinds of music—my mom’s country, Motown, and oldies, my dad’s hard rock and classics. When it came to country music, I liked it pretty much as country as you could get—from Merle Haggard to Reba, Johnny Cash to Garth Brooks, I loved most of it all. During this time, most of the people my age did not like country music; it was considered old people music, and definitely one of those guilty pleasures you kept to yourself at age thirteen!

And back then, the only singer who showed a bit of skin and cleavage was really Dolly Parton, and that was just her trademark. Most other country songstresses had lots of modesty and, dare I say it, self-respect. I don’t believe on judging people by what they wear, no; but I also think that something has shifted in our culture, something dark and scary, and it has to do with how women make it as performers in the entertainment industry.

Everything seems to be porn-ified these days. With the exception of Taylor Swift—who very well may have it demanded of her when she is older, I must sadly admit—nearly every female country singer I’ve seen on my mother’s CMT channel dresses very revealingly, with lots of cleavage, short shorts or skirts, and futuristic layers of hair coloring.

And it’s not limited to the singers themselves. Even their songs are pornish. “Country girl, shake it for me, girl,” I hear one man sing, while another sexually croons about his whiskey girl. Being drunk in the middle of the night and needing someone now has replaced the oddly more feministic, “Is There Life Out There?” Riding a cowboy is now the anthem we play for young love, rather than declaring that such love is “deeper than the holler.” Really? If this is musical progress, I hate to hear what it’s like in another ten years. There may be country-rap genres by the time my little girl is grown, and while I don’t even want to think about what kind of woofers you’ll need for that, I can already imagine the 99 kinds of problems that Lady Antebellum is going to have.

Other than eating locally and growing food, I don’t usually call for a sentimental return of yesteryear; in fact, I think many people who do are just those with hateful thoughts hoping to return to days when they held power as a class or race. But in this case, I really do miss what country music used to be—something to enjoy at barbecues with my family rather than booty dancing ballads for the club.