Tag Archives: Chris Stapleton

Album Review: The SteelDrivers–Bad For You

Rating: 8.5/10

So let’s talk about the elephant in the room here, the obvious comparisons of the SteelDrivers’ new lead singer, Kelvin Damrell, to their former frontman Chris Stapleton. Personally, I thought I could listen to this record without that elephant being an issue, as I had only heard one song by this band with Stapleton–and none with their last frontman, Gary Nichols, for that matter. Then I put on this record and heard the voice of Kelvin Damrell belting out with grit and soul and untamed passion on the opener and title track, and from the first notes, I knew ignoring the Stapleton comparisons would in fact be a sheer impossibility; it sounds as if this guy, who was discovered by a happy accident on YouTube, was sent to the SteelDrivers from some sort of secret Chris Stapleton cloning factory where they’re working to mass produce one of the greatest voices in modern country music.

The band simply will not escape this comparison, and indeed, it’s hard to say if they even want to escape it. But for this listener, the Stapleton resemblance soon became secondary to the album itself because by the third track, I had to admit the inevitable truth, that with all love and respect to Chris Stapleton, Kelvin Damrell is better, especially for this band, with more passion and inflection and a little more sensitivity to the lyrics, providing the same soulful tones that we all love about his predecessor but somehow having a bit more of a sense about when to hold back that vocal power in exchange for raw expressions of emotion. It will be a matter of personal taste as to whether you prefer Damrell or Stapleton, but Kelvin Damrell has proven that he should at least be evaluated on his own merits, and that however similar to Stapleton he may sound in tone, his vocal choices and delivery set him apart–and besides, being compared vocally to Chris Stapleton is one of the highest praises any singer, country or otherwise, can hope to receive these days. So let’s move on from the elephant and discuss the album itself.

And this album is just so good for the soul. It’s great to hear the country genre being carried forward respectfully in more modern ways, and you certainly don’t always need banjo and fiddle to make a country song, but damn it, sometimes it’s just comforting to hear these instruments proudly in the mix, and the picking of Richard Bailey and fiddling of Tammy Rodgers serve as a nice cure for the drum machines and electronic sounds ailing country music in 2020. And although this is bluegrass music and respectful to the roots of that genre, it’s imbibed with soul and blues and instilled with a youth and energy which sets the SteelDrivers apart from so many other bluegrass bands. It’s also more lyrically focused than most bluegrass, making it much closer to its country music cousin. No disrespect to other cool bluegrass bands like the Infamous Stringdusters, whose every record is a statement of pure instrumental impressiveness, but the SteelDrivers are more concerned with the mood of these songs and with framing the instrumentation to fit the lyrics; they’re just being themselves, but consequently, this is an album perhaps more accessible than many in this subgenre and a good introduction for your country detractor friends into the world of bluegrass.

AS for the lyrics themselves, self-condemnation and sorrow run heavily through this record. These themes are present in the opener and title track, as the narrator calmly warns a woman to stay far away from him, reflecting ruefully, “ain’t it kind of me to tell you the truth.” There’s the bartender attempting to justify himself in the track of the same name by declaring, “Some may call me a sinner, but when it’s all said and done, I don’t pull the trigger, i just load the gun.” There’s unbridled heartache in “Falling Man,” brought to life by the raw emotion of Kelvin Damrell’s vocals and set off expertly by the sorrowful licks of the fiddle and banjo. It all seems to culminate in the brooding “Innocent Man,” set in a haunting minor key and seeing the narrator ruminating on the crime he committed. He’ll never get caught, but he’ll have to live with the decision for the rest of his life, and that’s almost worse than prison. There are a few lightweight tracks lyrically, but overall, the songwriting is a strength. There could be a bit more depth in places, but these lighter moments are generally lively and infectious and serve to brighten up the somber atmosphere a little.

This is a fine album and a welcome return for the SteelDrivers. It’s a great mix of beautiful bluegrass instrumentation and heartfelt songwriting, all infused with the blues and soul of Kelvin Damrell to create something really unique. On a personal note, it’s been quite awhile since i have had the motivation or inspiration to write about anything, and it’s wonderful to have such a great record to start all this anew. The year is young, but Bad for You has the kind of replay value that will give it staying power, and it may well be in the conversation when the endless 2020 lists start pouring in come December. Go give it a listen, and if you’re new to bluegrass, you may find this record a warm, wonderful welcome into another beautiful corner of our beloved country music.

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The Importance of Discussing Mainstream Artists: Featuring The Musical Divide

Too often, in the discussion of “real country” and keeping tradition alive, we see independent fans choosing to dismiss the mainstream altogether. It’s certainly easy to do when you discover all the alternatives and realize there really is substantive songwriting and actual country instrumentation out there thriving, just beyond the lenses of radio and streaming playlists. But completely turning our backs on the commercial side of country music could potentially have damaging effects on the genre’s longevity. I teamed up with Zackary Kephart of The Musical Divide to talk about why paying attention to and covering mainstream country is still necessary. Read that below!

Megan: Last year around this time we did a piece together on “real country” and the artists still keeping it traditional. But there’s also the other side to this coin, where many traditionalists and fans of independent country dismiss the mainstream out of hand. I know for you, this came to a head recently over Lauren Jenkins’ album. What would you say in response to people who say country radio and the mainstream are lost causes, and we should just focus on the independent world?

Zack: Well, I’d say it’s entirely their choice as music consumers. But personally, as a self-appointed critic and scholar of the genre, I’d advise against this. Whether we like to admit it or not, the country music industry is a business. Critically, and objectively, I always think of country music in terms of how others see it. For example, right now it’s likely viewed as a dumping ground for unfair stereotypes given the Lil Nas X debate. When artists like Maren Morris, Kane Brown, or Luke Combs, three of the biggest current names, release a new song or album, they’re the faces of country music. So I’d say it’s important to take stock in and care about the genre’s mainstream. Like it or not, the debates always circle back to the mainstream anyway. Right now, country music is in the midst of an identity crisis not unlike the one it suffered in the early-to-mid ’80s. Sure, I have other options, but I still care about country music and how it’s being portrayed to the public.

Megan: Don’t get me started on that debate; that’s a whole other piece entirely. But yes, country is definitely in an identity crisis and is being ridiculed on the basis of a lot of negative stereotypes right now. Some of those stereotypes certainly have a basis, but it’s discouraging to see such a one-sided, disparaging approach to the genre by so much of the mainstream media right now. Again, though, that could generate a whole other discussion on its own. As far as how the genre is presented to the public, I can’t overstate the importance of this. I think that often, we who have turned off country radio and discovered the independent scene forget that at one time, we didn’t really know there were alternatives. You can argue that radio is irrelevant, an assertion I don’t completely agree on anyway, but even if you do hold this viewpoint, streaming playlists are arguably even worse than radio at portraying the country genre. It’s easy to forget that the mainstream is the mainstream for a reason; it’s still the most popular music. It’s still what most of the next generation will use to determine what “country” sounds like. If we abandon it altogether, I believe we put the long-term future of the genre in danger. You mentioned the ’80s, which is a great comparison, but where would we be right now if everyone had given up on the mainstream back then?

Zack: Well, the thing with the ’80s compared to now is that we didn’t have those alternative sources. You lived and died by those radio playlists. Of course, we had also had an onslaught of country music related movies such as 9 to 5 and Honeysuckle Rose during this time. The biggest example is obviously Urban Cowboy, an event that caused everyone to want to be “country.” When that trend faded away, and all of the bandwagon jumpers left, country music had to reclaim its core audience. I think we’re seeing that now with the career resurgences of Brooks & Dunn, Reba McEntire and George Strait. Luke Combs, Riley Green, and Midland are further examples of trying to bring that traditional balance back in. That balance is what’s off-center, currently. The faces of the genre are the aforementioned names along with, say, Thomas Rhett. Granted, I liked his last album, but critically, he’s barely a country music artist. But he represents country music to so many right now. He’s also popular, and people like his music, statements that apply to every other popular country music artist right now. Radio is not irrelevant, but again, that also depends on whether you’re talking personal or cultural importance. People often think within the limits of their own perspectives, which is fine. But you’re right, it’s still the leading platform for preferred listening experience. It’s the same thing as saying award shows don’t matter. Tell that to Chris Stapleton.

Megan: “People often think within the limits of their own perspectives”; this is a great point and absolutely correct. People forget that the artists you mentioned are rewriting country’s history, and the people that grow up listening to Rhett and Morris will believe this is what country is supposed to be. This kind of thinking will erode the genre and completely rip it from its roots. This is also why I think the other important reason to cover and discuss the mainstream is to highlight those artists who are moving the genre forward and still respecting the roots. This is why it’s so frustrating that an artist like the aforementioned Jenkins, who can rightly be called pop country, has had virtually no support from Big Machine Records while Rhett, Morris, and others are the faces of the genre. Why do you think labels are ignoring artists like Jenkins while promoting straight pop and R&B and rap as country?

Zack: Well, Jenkins has explicitly stated that her team won’t even bother with radio, since they believe they can reach an audience without exploring that avenue. Perhaps it’s a bold, innovative move, but it’s also frustrating that this is a new mindset. I’d of course love if this could be the new model, but as you said, the alternative is streaming playlists. Even there, the idea of radio continues to live on. People enjoy being given a playlist they can listen to hassle free. With an endless array of music, we’re now faced with the tyranny of choice. Basically, it’s easier to listen to someone else’s recommendations. So playlists that are somehow even more male-focused are the new “norm” for listeners. There are many things worth fighting for in country music. Gender equality, representation of other sorts, and sanctity of the genre’s roots. Caring about having that equal balance though brands you as out of style or as a “purist.” It should come as no surprise that the face for traditional country music right now is Luke Combs, a guy who looks like he could change your oil at Jiffy Lube. Jamey Johnson and Stapleton are further examples. Meanwhile, here comes Rhett, Morris or King Calaway where it’s clear the focus is more on the image. And again, this has little to do with pure taste. I personally like Rhett, but critically, I believe it’s still worth our time and effort to care about country music and its portrayal.

Megan: It’s interesting in the case of Jenkins that they believe they can promote her album without radio. In general, I believe that can be done; we’ve seen it with Stapleton certainly and most recently with Kacey Musgraves. But with Jenkins, it feels like she’s caught in a weird place with that strategy, being too pop for many independent fans to take notice. She’s the kind of artist that should be promoted in the mainstream because the music seems to find more of a balance and be more radio-friendly without compromising the lyrics. It’s a shame they went this route because this is the kind of music I want to see pushing the genre forward. We need good pop country as much as we need the traditionalists like Luke Combs. As far as taste, yes, it has very little to do with that. Once again we are called to look beyond ourselves and see the bigger picture. People like Combs aren’t ever going to be the next Jason Isbell, but that’s not what we need in the mainstream to help carry the genre forward. You mentioned King George Strait a moment ago, and this brings me to a point I’ve made several times on CE while defending the importance of the mainstream. People point to the outlaw movement all the time as saving country music from Nashville in the 70s and putting the creative control back in the hands of the artists. This is all true, but look at Strait. He was signed by MCA in 1981 and given only one single because he was thought to be too traditional. Here we are almost forty years later, and he’s still on that same label with one of the longest, most commercially successful careers in all of country music. He did his part, along with others, to turn country back to its roots, but from the inside. King George never reinvented the wheel, but he is as important to the genre as any of the outlaws. We need artists like that today, solid, traditionally minded artists who can carry country music’s legacy forward by making it appeal to the masses.

Zack: Your points about Strait call important points to mind. With him, and even Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson before during the outlaw revolution, they wanted to change the system. Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson and Margo Price don’t care to bring that type of change, which is fine. But it highlights a big difference between decisions made then and now. Strait represented an alternative to what was popular, just as certain artists such as Combs and Midland do now. Is it the exact same scenario? Of course not. But change requires more than just firing off a few tweets. It requires active change on the inside. Of course, that also involves being entrenched in the politics of it all, so it’s a tricky line to walk. And of course, this conversation isn’t strictly limited to traditional or pop country. It’s about caring about country music’s representation. Even someone like Eric Church, who’s hardly a traditionalist, represents a desire for true artistry. Within country music, he embodies that vagabond spirit that’s certainly familiar to country music, despite what his music may actually sound like. It certainly takes all kinds, but a lack of care will only mean that the bottom line gets served. Country music hasn’t needed saving in terms of pure quality. That’s hard to judge. But between the onslaught of the rockabilly movement, the Urban Cowboy movement, the stagnation of the Nashville Sound era (note again, “stagnation,” not an indictment of the era itself), and even now, country music has certainly needed saving.

Megan: Great point on Eric Church and the spirit of artistry. That’s important for country music and for all of music in general. Within country music, I’d argue that’s just as important, if not more, than keeping the traditional sounds alive. It’s more than fiddle and steel and even storytelling, it’s also about being an artist instead of a businessperson. In the mainstream, you have to be both, but someone like Church perfectly illustrates the difference between making a genre-bending record as an artist and exploiting country for cash like many of these artists do. I’m a big fan of Church, but even if you aren’t, or you prefer a more traditional sound, it’s important to see the larger impact of Church’s music and artistry on the culture. I’d rather listen to an artist with something to say than one who is simply going through the motions, even if their sound is traditional.

Zack: Agreed. And that’s still occurring in mainstream country. There’s still music worth discussing and championing, despite what naysayers say. More than that though, I think we’ve established that these conversations matter. To give up on the mainstream is to give up on country music and its potential. The current country charts are a cesspool because we’ve abandoned that hope and drive to fight for an American art form. In 20 years time, perhaps the entire landscape will change. I’d certainly expect a radical departure in the system at some point. Country music as a commercial genre isn’t even 100-years-old yet. But for now, examining and critically discussing artists within the mainstream isn’t worthless, it’s fighting for country music.

Megan: So for the naysayers and people who dismiss the mainstream and focus only on Americana and Red Dirt, who would you say is really pushing the genre forward right now in mainstream country? Who would you say is making the case for good pop country and making good modern music that still respects the roots of the genre?

Zack: You already mentioned Jenkins. I’m a big fan of what she’s doing. I’d say Combs represents the fact that country music is still for the everyday person. He also presents a curious case for how authenticity matters in the industry. Church represents the hangdog spirit that’s always been embedded in the genre. So does Miranda Lambert, despite recent setbacks. Riley Green, Jon Pardi, Midland, and even Blake Shelton now represent a turning of the tide for the genre. Carrie Underwood, despite an underwhelming recent album, also represents how country music can be accessible without completely compromising its roots. Stapleton is the mystifying oddity who both defies expectations and also represents that same outlaw spirit in country. Even Kane Brown, love him or hate him, represents the future of country music. Between him and Combs, there are no hotter artists out there right now in terms of commercial success. Again, this is me looking outside of my own perspective. Of course too, there’s names I’d love to say are killing it, but at the very least are trying to make it in a broken system. Cam, William Michael Morgan and Runaway June immediately come to mind, among others.

Megan: I agree on Combs being important for representing the everyday person in country, and not doing it in a patronizing way, or with cliches about trucks and moonshine. Stapleton and Church both represent that desire for artistry, that intangible thing that makes artists connect with an audience because we believe they’ve lived out their songs and have something genuine to say. Lambert has been important both in her solo career and through the Pistol Annies, keeping a more traditional sound and providing a much-needed female perspective. Underwood’s last album was underwhelming, but she’s always done a fine job of mixing country and pop in a way that’s respectful to both genres. I’d also cite Brothers Osborne as being somewhat similar to Combs in that they’re representing everyday people. Their last album really drove home the fact that in forsaking substantive lyrics and interesting melodies, we’ve also lost appreciation for guitar solos and instrumental flourishes. They aren’t traditional, but they are making very good modern music and evolving the country genre in the right way. And Dierks Bentley really returned to form on his latest record as well, managing to find a smart balance between contemporary and traditional. And of course there’s the aforementioned Musgraves, who achieved an Album of the Year Grammy for a country record. That’s victory in 2019. A staunchly traditional album is not going to see that kind of reception, and although I’m going to continue to stand and fight for the inclusion of traditional country and fair representation, Musgrave’s win is a victory for women, for substance, and yes, for music that can rightly be included in the country genre. It’s important to champion the good modern country, because these are the artists that will influence generations. And like it or not, I’m sure most of us would much rather Golden Hour be the album that influences younger audiences than anything by Rhett, Morris, etc.

Zack: I’d have mentioned Brothers Osborne, Bentley and Musgraves if I had only thought of them. Like I said, there are plenty of artists who could stand toe-to-toe with artists in the independent scene, and your contributions are also fitting names. As a fan, it saddens me that country music is looked upon as “yeehaw culture” or a genre of music people can make fun of since they don’t like it. To an extent, there is a danger that artists such as Florida Georgia Line, Luke Bryan, and Jason Aldean have brought to the forefront – rural pride pandering. Now we’re seeing the consequences of it all. And people do care about what’s happening in mainstream country music. Former journalist and current YouTuber Grady Smith’s viral snap-track video is further proof of that. In the end, I’d say it’s important to care enough about country music to examine it personally and critically.

Megan: It saddens me that country music is seen that way as well, and I do believe some of it is the aftermath of bro country. But country has been the victim of stereotypes, both warranted and otherwise, for its entire history. This is almost another entire discussion, and certainly an important one. It’s one I wouldn’t mind having in the future. But as far as this particular topic, I think ultimately you’re right. It’s important to care about the genre both personally and critically and to be subjective as well as objective enough to see others’ perspectives and the bigger picture. We shouldn’t give up on the mainstream, and we should champion the artists still doing it right on Music Row. As you said, these conversations matter, and I certainly enjoyed this one.

Album Review: Brent Cobb–Providence Canyon

Rating: 10/10

It may seem like a strange way to begin a review which flaunts the above rating, but I want to say first that I was absolutely, unequivocally not a fan of Brent Cobb’s 2016 record Shine on Rainy Day. Why is this important? It’s that 2016 wasn’t a year where I was reviewing regularly, and that album was something I heard but never commented on–I want you all to know how I felt about it and understand that this love is not some extension of blind Brent Cobb fandom, that it’s in fact basically the opposite, a testament to how ridiculously good Providence Canyon is as an album and to how much it marks an improvement for Cobb and a distinct defining of his sound.

The problem with Shine on Rainy Day for me personally was that it felt sleepy; Brent Cobb’s talent, especially as a songwriter, was there in spades, but the sound didn’t resonate or really feel like it fit Cobb as an artist. Whether it’s just the experience of being on tour regularly in general, or the fact that that touring has been with Chris Stapleton, it’s definitely inspired Brent Cobb and breathed life and grooves into the Georgia country soul blend he’s perfected on this album. This fun, energetic sound was waiting there inside Cobb all along. Massive credit to Dave Cobb as well, for inasmuch as I’ve criticized him lately for overproducing Ashley Monroe and underproducing John Prine, he’s brought his cousin’s sound and vision to life here expertly. You can hear it in songs like the infectious “Sucker for a Good Time,” a track wherein Brent admits to “kinda stretch out a lie” as he tells of stealing everyone’s girlfriends back in Alabama. The song fades out in the end as well, actually allowing the instruments to breathe and the solos to ride out. “If I Don’t See Ya” is similar in this way, going from an upbeat number to a mid-tempo, funky affair as the organs and guitars stay around for the extended outro.

Once again, 2018 really seems to have gotten the memo that a lot of 2017 Americana and country albums were boring us all, or else were good records held back from being great by a frustrating lack of energy. Like Blackberry Smoke and Old crow Medicine Show already this year, Brent Cobb has given us a fun, accessible record. You can’t listen to the aforementioned “Sucker for a Good Time” or “Mornin’s Gonna Come” and not sing along. The same goes for “.30-06,” and the fact he even released this at all given the mixed reception it could have with certain Americana audiences is just a breath of fresh air.

Also, like the other bands I’ve mentioned, he’s given us a record that is distinctly Southern, though where Blackberry Smoke’s album is primarily Southern rock and Old Crow’s leans on bluegrass and country, this one is flavored with the soul and swamp that is so much a part of Brent Cobb’s home state of Georgia. The title track is a steel guitar-soaked ode to a landmark in Georgia and one of the best songs on the whole thing. There’s also some love for Alabama and late country artist Wayne Mills, who was killed by his friend in a bar, on “King of Alabama.”

Where this one elevates itself above those other 2018 records is in the songwriting, Brent Cobb’s ace in the hole from the beginning. It’s a fun record, yes, filled with themes of life on the road and good nights you might not remember later. But there’s also a track like “Come Home Soon,” coming along to deftly and swiftly put it all into perspective. This is Brent Cobb absolutely opening up his soul to us, telling us of the price it costs to be on the road and struggle with addictions and the homesickness and the general changes that come with the business. There’s a line here that should just stop any listener in their tracks–“music used to be my way to escape the good, the bad, and everything between. Now it’s become what defines my name. OH, I wonder who it was I used to be.” What a depressing way to feel about something you once loved, and what a way Cobb has with words to capture that feeling. The melody here is really special as well.

The conclusion, though, seems to be that chasing your dreams is worth whatever hell and pain come with it. There’s a little track called “Lorene” here to illustrate that, saying their small town will always be the same, and this character should get out and see the rest of the world before she dies. This one is short and sweet and going to be underrated because of the gems on the rest of this album, but it’s important to the overall message of the record. It won’t stand out for listeners as much as the one that follows, “When the dust settles,” since that’s sort of a middle finger to the establishment and makes reference to the dirt road songs all over Nashville, but both tracks are important in the grand scheme of things.

And then there’s the closer, “Ain’t a Road Too Long,” which seems to be the more autobiographical answer to “Come Home soon.” Yes, this one starts out with some rapping, and yes, some of you will hate it. The majority of it is a fitting closer, a Southern rock meets country soul anthem that sums up the whole album. This rapping in the beginning is weird, and I could tell you all I hate it, but that would be a superior, stuck-up critic’s lie. I think it works despite itself, and the words fit excellently, as despite the challenges of the road and being in the spotlight, Brent Cobb knows that he’s incredibly blessed and tries to stay focused on all of the good, simple things in his life.

Fantastic, fun, distinctly Southern record. Strong songwriting, infectious music, and most importantly, an album I believe will have considerable mileage and staying power. In the end, music is only good if you want to play it, and only great if you want to keep playing it over and over as the months pass. This is what Providence Canyon promises. This will be the first 10/10 album of 2018–in fact, it’s the first 10/10 rating I’ve given in over a year–and it is very well-deserved.

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Album Review: Scotty McCreery–Seasons Change

Rating: 5/10

Traditionalists and mainstream fans alike, recognize what Scotty McCreery has done here with this album release and the success of the lead single, “Five More Minutes.” Set aside for a moment any thoughts and feelings you may have about that single, or anything on this album, and think about the fact that McCreery has outsmarted a system that cast him out after he had barely finished high school. Take into account that for all the marketing and misuse of the term “outlaw,” that phrase was coined for people who went against the ways of Nashville and fought for creative control, making the music they wanted to make and being the artists they wanted to be. Often, people today are so enamored with the term “outlaw” that they overlook that definition in favor of propping up artists who sing about hard living as if it were a badge of honor. There are fans of so-called outlaw country that hate the mainstream and everything in it, anything that sounds modern or contemporary, to the point that some of this outlaw music has become a parody of itself, reliant on references of liquor and cocaine to make it seem authentic, until some of it has become as clichéd as the dirt roads and misogyny of the mainstream. These fans would never give a contemporary country artist like Scotty McCreery a second glance, and yet, it’s McCreery who has done one of the most outlaw things in Nashville in recent years by ignoring the system that killed his career and giving it second life, finding renewed success on country radio when most artists can’t find it once, and doing all this through Triple Tigers. Add to all this that he had a hand in writing all of these songs–no Nashville songwriting committee was forced on him, no compromises were made with a label in some ill-conceived effort to get a hit. Like the outlaws before him, Scotty McCreery did this his own way and with creative control, and he’s achieved remarkable success doing so. This is the record he wanted to make, and regardless of how you feel about it, that effect on the bigger picture is no less encouraging than the victories of Aaron Watson and Chris Stapleton.

Unfortunately, the record he wanted to make isn’t really that impressive.

If I had to describe this album in one word, it would be lukewarm. It’s got a few brighter spots, which we’ll get to, and mostly these come at the front and back of the record. The majority of the middle becomes interchangeable, blending into one forgettable, bland love song after another. It’s not to say that any one of these songs wouldn’t be fine on their own, and in fact, nothing here is really a bad track. But the sameness and lack of color really wears the album down. This is why I say it’s lukewarm; it’s not that any of these songs were bad, but it’s like they stopped thinking of ideas halfway through the record and started writing other versions of the same thing.

It’s also lukewarm in terms of production and instrumentation, as if it can’t really decide what it wants to be sonically. It’s certainly more traditional-leaning than much of today’s country radio, but that’s also not saying too much. I’d like to say that Scotty McCreery does a really nice job of blending the modern and the traditional, and occasionally he does, but really, it’s mostly contemporary. That in and of itself wouldn’t be a bad thing, but his voice, the voice we all came to know and love on American Idol, is well suited for more traditional tunes, and he never seems to explore that. With his creative latitude, and particularly with the way he is rumored to sing many classics at concerts, it’s really disappointing to see him not tap into this at least a little. I wasn’t expecting Keith Whitley reborn, but it would be nice if even one of these songs could actually be called more traditional than modern–not because I am a purist, but because that style suits McCreery.

He’s also selling himself short vocally, as his range is not utilized well at all; we fell in love with the twang and the bass, similar to Josh Turner, and these songs seem to keep him out of that part of his vocals entirely. That said, he lends a warmth and personality to some of these more generic tracks that certainly adds some color. So again, we’re back to the whole thing being lukewarm.

But still, even with all these problems weighing it down, Seasons Change manages to have some really nice moments. The title track and opener displays a double meaning, as it also seems to reflect the changes in his life and career over the past several years. I admittedly am not as blown away by “Five More Minutes” as many have been, and it’s definitely obvious someone is going to die about two lines in, but it’s the details in the verses before that which save it and make it still a really solid song. “Boys From Back Home” manages to avoid every problem with this album–well, except his vocal range–as it sounds like something we’d have heard on country radio in 2004 or so and speaks of nostalgia and teenage years in specific and heartfelt ways. It shows that a song like this doesn’t have to be a pointless cliché. It works because instead of going for generic, listastic details everyone can relate to, this song opts for referencing specific people in Scotty’s life and places in Carolina, so that even though there’s a universality in the theme, you know this song meant something to the singer. “Wherever You Are” also does a better job of blending the traditional and contemporary and is aided by a catchy melody and one of his most sincere vocal performances. And speaking of sincere, the easy album highlight is the closer, “Home in my Mind,” McCreery’s ode to Carolina while he’s on the road. There are references to Carolina sprinkled all throughout this record, a touch of the personal that Scotty McCreery was allowed to inflict upon this project, and they all seem to culminate in this song. Pick this one if you only choose to listen to one track.

It’s these flashes of potential and character that I wish marked the whole album. Scotty McCreery has done a monumental thing by achieving this level of success and creative control, particularly after he was kicked out of the industry. I am glad he was able to deliver the record he wanted to make, but I wish he had done more with this latitude. This record feels very safe and forgettable overall. As I said, there’s not a bad moment, but the majority, other than what I’ve highlighted, is just bland and uninteresting. McCreery is capable of more, and I wish he had exercised his creative freedom to realize that potential. It’s the album he wanted to make, but sadly, the album he wanted to make is pretty disappointing.

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Dear Award Shows: Stop Making Chris Stapleton Your Token Traditionalist

Chris Stapleton has done to country award shows what Clemson college football did to Alabama–seemed new and fresh for a second, until you began to hate Clemson with the same equal passion you hated Alabama with before Clemson came along.

On November 4th, 2015, Chris Stapleton shocked the world at the CMA’s when, out of nowhere and with virtually no industry support, he won three awards, including Album of the Year and Male Vocalist of the Year. His debut album, Traveller, rocketed to the top of the iTunes charts as people sought to find out who this unknown bearded country traditionalist with a voice infused with soul could possibly be. Add to all that, his performance of “Tennessee Whiskey” with Justin Timberlake was one of the most memorable award show events in recent history and helped to make him an overnight superstar. Two days later, I wrote a piece entitled Who the Hell is Chris Stapleton: Answering the Question in the Minds of Millions of Sam Hunt Fans, an explanation that basically, the CMA voters knew what many fans and traditionalists had known all along, that Chris Stapleton had talent and potential, and he only needed a chance to be heard in order to fully realize that potential.

Fast forward to 2018, and Stapleton’s selling out arenas with almost no radio support. All three of his albums have sold remarkably well and regularly sit atop the Billboard album charts. In an era where streaming is king, Chris Stapleton’s selling records. In a time when country stars in the mainstream rely nearly exclusively on radio, Stapleton’s proven it’s not the only viable format. And best of all, he’s proving this all with quality music, and music that is somewhat traditional-leaning, if infused with blues and Southern rock at times.

But at this point, his nominations and wins at these award shows have become predictable, and we’re all going to become sick of Stapleton sooner rather than later. I was afraid of this in November at the CMA’s when I cautioned them to add more traditionalists, and it’s come to fruition with the ACM’s. “Whiskey and You,” while a great song, came from his 2015 debut album and had absolutely no right to be nominated for this year’s ACM Song of the Year. Instead of opening the door for other traditional and independent artists to walk through, Stapleton’s become the token traditionalist, nominated and winning to keep our crowd happy. Sure, he’s obviously better than the rest of the garbage the ACM throws out here, and the ACM is a joke at best these days anyway, but where the historic wins of Stapleton were once seen as a great stepping stone for other deserving artists not molded by country radio and the mainstream format, now they just seem as tired and predictable as the wins of FGL once were for Vocal Duo. And when you take into account the other crap, you still root for Chris Stapleton–because next to them, he deserves to win, and not only that, he deserves to win by miles. But he’s not the only artist out there who deserves recognition.

Furthermore, if he’s going to continue to win awards automatically now, this diminishes the value of the awards he actually deserves to win. It’s like what we’ve seen happen with Miranda Lambert; we are sick of her winning Female Vocalist of the Year because she’s the only token female these establishments will recognize, so that when she did deserve a win for an album cycle like that of The Weight of These Wings, we actually wondered if she wouldn’t get it this year because Carrie Underwood would beat her out simply from years of spite from Carrie Underwood fans. Miranda was deserving of the award at the CMA’s, but it hardly seemed significant when she had won the same award for doing virtually nothing in years past.

I don’t want to see it become this way with Chris Stapleton. When he won all those awards at the 2015 CMA’s, we all hailed it as a turning point for the state of country music–and for Stapleton himself, it has been, as he’s managed to become a star with virtually zero help from radio. But for the rest of the industry, it has done little, and he’s becoming nothing more than the token traditionalist.

I like Chris Stapleton. I think he deserves his success. I think the CMA took a huge step when it chose to give a deserving artist a chance in 2015, and because of the willingness of that organization to vote for someone who didn’t fit the normal mainstream mold, an artist’s life and career was changed forever. But it can’t stop there. This has to be a foundation, and Chris Stapleton has to be the first of many artists to receive this opportunity for it to signal any kind of true change. And right now, he’s starting to seem like an anomaly. Let’s change that before he becomes a cliché.