I was less than generous to this group’s Bon Jovi-lite (and that’s some serious lite) debut, “Runaway,” but damn if its infectious melody didn’t weasel into my brain anyway. Not unlike Lady Antebellum and Gloriana, Love and Theft show a real aptitude for sugary AC-pop melodies wrapped up in slick harmonies, with their only major recorded weakness being their bland, somewhat vacuous lyrics.
Urban’s recent output has been upbeat and bright, so it’s a sucker punch to hear him in full melancholic mode again. But like John Mellencamp once sang, “It hurts so good.”
“‘Til Summer Comes Around” is a sadly beautiful tale about a man who lives in a summer town and falls in love with a girl who’ll be leaving at the end of the season. Using the emptiness of “everything is closing down” as a backdrop, Urban’s heartbreak becomes one with the town. Just as the carnival rides are shut down and have to wait out the fall, winter, and spring, so does Urban have to wait for his love that promises to come back.
There’s a fascinating, frustrating divide between Underwood’s ability to conjure and express her emotion. It’s fascinating because when the divide comes down, the result is magic – but frustrating because it takes some digging around to find these moments of commanding personal conviction, which typically come in the form of live performances. As ironic though it may be considering her mass-exposed start on Idol, it often feels like the only way to really know what Underwood is all about is to pursue her.
The Zac Brown Band is a welcome fresh addition to country music’s mainstream. While their sound surely cannot be classified as traditional in the true sense of the word, their music sounds authentic and different than what has currently overtaken country music. They’ve got a vibe like nothing else that we’re hearing on the radio, in large part, thanks to their front man, after whom the group is named and the sonically laid back production that accompanies some well crafted songs (“Chicken Fried” notwithstanding).
One thing that mainstream country music still has in abundance is artists with great voices. Chris Young can easily be counted among such talent, but he is also firmly in the category of artists with quality voices saddled with inferior material.
Supported by a simple melody with a chorus that overreaches for memorability, “The Man I Want to Be” also stretches to work within the confines of a lyrical hook: “I want to be a (insert adjective or verb here) man” pervades the song and turns out to be more of a distraction than a clever turn of phrase.
It’s taken a long time to put words together for this review, mostly because the prospect of Patty Griffin being billed on a mainstream single is too exciting not to cloud critical judgments a little. I mean, seriously – “featuring Patty Griffin.” From the same label that just won Taylor Swift a Female Vocalist award. It’s far too much cool for a body to digest in one sitting.
It’s no secret that in country music, some expressions of patriotism are more prevalent, and arguably more acceptable, than others. It’s refreshing, then, to see Paisley offer a solid albeit frivolous departure from the conventional with “American Saturday Night,” a proud depiction of America as a nation whose identity is molded by not one, but numerous cultures:
You know everywhere has something they’re known for
Ah, but usually it washes up on our shores.
Hey, here’s something new: a gritty-sounding Americana dude singing about open roads and not giving a damn. Pretty novel, right?
Well, no. But there’s a fierce vitality to Ryan Bingham’s “Country Roads” that transcends the song’s somewhat hackneyed Dylan-on-a-dirt-bike aesthetic. The opening snare fires off like a racetrack gunshot, and the harmonica-driven sound that barrels out after it is so recklessly joyful that it makes every word it touches sound brand-new – and better, somewhat universal.
Evidently, country artists in Nashville are damn proud to be from the country – so proud that they each feel the need to record a song proclaiming just this and, no less, release it to country radio. I’ve lost track of the number of these singles put out in the past year, a handful of which I’ve found to be borderline offensive. As a city girl with a heck of a lot of love for the spirit of country music, I’d rather not be made to feel like I’m being excluded from a members-only club.
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In theory, Bucky Covington covering a rock song isn’t a bad idea – when at his best, he has a natural, believable southern rock edge to his voice. But you wouldn’t know that from listening to his version of “Gotta Be Somebody,” which finds his voice oddly processed and uncharacteristically dull.