Tag Archives: Tyler Hubbard

Reviews

Album Review: Florida Georgia Line–Can’t Say I Ain’t Country

1 Comment

Rating: 3.5/10

Florida Georgia Line, who have made a career out of rap verses, tired dirt road clichés, and unintelligible vocabulary, have decided to prove to us all on their fourth album that they are, in fact, undeniably and authentically country. The Apple Music description of this album actually says, in part, that they are making a case for themselves against the “self-anointed purists who don’t warm to their snap tracks or frequent collaborations across hip-hop and pop.” This whole record comes across as defensive, right down to the cover, as if walking out of a barn somehow gives them country cred. But it’s hard to be something you aren’t, and the result of their efforts is a walking identity crisis which, though not the worst thing they’ve ever released, is certainly the most awkward and unsure of itself. It’s like two warring personalities were fighting for control of this record, and neither one really prevailed, so we wound up with a cluttered, contradictory, defensive mess.

ON one side, we have the FGL that are desperate to prove to everyone that they’re still country. The title track actually does this sort of well, inserting humorous details like the fact that it’s easier to believe the moon landing was fake than to declare that these guys aren’t country. It’s pretty decent on its own, but in the context of the whole album, it loses some of its merit. “Can’t Hide Red” is the darker, edgier version of this, featuring Jason Aldean and boasting about the dumb reasons they’re still rednecks even though they live in the city and play hip-hop. The darker, heavier production here is actually quite good; in fact, the instrumentation and production of a nice portion of this album is good, and certainly a huge improvement for Florida Georgia Line. It’s the lyrics, much like most of the duo’s output, where this song really fails, citing stupid reasons like smoking and drinking as evidence of their country cred and rhyming “twang” with “sing” because Tyler Hubbard intentionally pronounces it “sang” in a horribly exaggerated Southern drawl.

But it’s on this more country side of the record that we find the brighter spots. “Speed of Love” is just fun, and instead of rapping, it feels like the second verse is more of a spoken word thing that’s always been a part of country music. It’s nice to hear a prominent steel guitar in a Florida Georgia Line song as well. “Colorado,” one of the pre-released tracks that made the idea of this album interesting, is still one of the highlights, and yes, also sounds like modern pop country. “Simple” is still a fun track as well, although it’s a bit worse in light of the whole album, as the references to the simple life and flying down back roads feel more pandering in context.

By the same token, this attempt to cement their country status resulted in one of the worst things you’ll hear on any 2019 release: four useless skits featuring some redneck pastor named Brother Jervel. How anyone thought these would actually contribute to any of us taking Florida Georgia Line seriously is beyond me. I could go on, but these speak for themselves, and you have to hear them to fully appreciate their awfulness.

But even while trying to be as country as possible, they’ve somehow managed to also be less country than they’ve ever been on this album. WE have “Women,” featuring Jason Derulo, because you know, the presence of Jason Derulo is vital to any truly country record. The song itself is a lame attempt to do what Keith Urban attempted with “Female,” but it just fails spectacularly. “Talk You Out of It” is the first of several sex songs and the least offensive, as the production sort of works, and the lyrics aren’t completely cringe-worthy. It’s forgettable fluff on its own, but then, near the end of the record, we have the completely self-absorbed “Like You Never Had It,” a waste of three minutes where Tyler Hubbard tries to be charming by declaring that he’ll be the best sex this woman has ever had and that she’ll be calling her friends to brag about it. It’s followed up by “Swerve,” which, if possible, is even more God-awful. The hook of this is literally, “you’re makin’ me swerve.” Aside from the fact that that doesn’t really even make any sense, it’s filled with “Sun Daze” style innuendos and backed by horrifyingly bad production. And all of this begs the question: how can you call yourselves country in the same breath as giving us this crap?

What a confusing record. The dual personalities make this album a jarring, random, messy listen. On one hand, Florida Georgia Line seem hell-bent on proving that they’re still country and still fit in with their critics. ON the other hand, they’re stretching boundaries on some of these tracks further than they ever have, releasing some of the least country material of their careers. It’s obvious they don’t have a clue about their identity, and it’s a shame because behind all of the marketing and bullshit, there are a few really good selections here, bright spots on a strange album and in the duo’s career as a whole. Maybe they can’t say they aren’t country, but this record makes it clear that they can’t tell us who they are either.

The Good

The Awful

Reviews

Review: Florida Georgia Line’s “Simple” and “Colorado”

Leave a comment

Lots of pleasant surprises came for me on Friday, not least the release of two new Florida Georgia Line songs into the atmosphere that are actually pretty decent. Before we go any further, I can see how both of these songs, especially “Simple,” will be polarizing, and I am in no way suggesting these will be universally liked, but I will say that to refuse to listen because of the artist is not the right way. As a reviewer, I am excited when artists I have previously hated or openly criticized give us something better–there’s no place in the critical realm for hatred of artists specifically on principle, and if FGL or anyone else releases better music, it’s only an improvement for the genre we all love. Like what you like, but always keep an open mind.

“Simple”

This one is the official single, and basically, Florida Georgia Line decided to go full-on Lumineers with this. You can see immediately why I said it will be polarizing; this sound breeds conflict as much as anything FGL have previously recorded. It’s like pop country with a bluegrass influence, with a banjo driving the song instead of being buried in the mix and thrown in just as a token country instrument.

Lyrically, it’s about as simple as the title suggests, painting a picture of a love that’s easy and doesn’t need anything complicating it. They talk of once living on social media, obsessed with “who all gives a damn,” until they realized life’s about the little things. It’s a message many will be able to relate to and which should be expressed more often in a time where people live on their phones and the Internet, and many are more comfortable behind their screens than actually communicating with others face-to-face. There’s also the fact that people don’t go outside and absorb nature because they’re glued to technology–in the end, the sunsets you saw will matter more than the Twitter likes you received, and so many people have lost sight of that. This song isn’t deep at all lyrically, and the spelling out of “simple” in the chorus is pretty annoying, but the message is strong and timely.

The spelling can be pretty obnoxious, though, especially at the end of the song. Tyler Hubbard is still an underwhelming and frankly annoying vocalist, and as stated, the lyrics aren’t earth-shattering by any means. But it’s a catchy, solid song from the duo nonetheless. Not amazing, but a pretty good song and certainly one of their best singles in a good long while.

Rating: 6/10

“Colorado”

Now we come to the one I’m most excited about, “Colorado.” I wish they’d have waited and released this one as a single as well instead of including it in with “Simple” like some modern-day version of a B-side on a record.

From the opening lines, “I got friends from Colorado, I got friends from Tennessee, so I got something in a bottle, and i got something from a seed,” I was a fan of this song. That’s just a really clever hook, and “Colorado” goes on to be about the narrator using whiskey and weed to help him get through a breakup after being engaged. Whiskey and weed are never mentioned, though, except in the outro where they’re called “Jack and Jane.” The metaphor there is that Jill, his fiancée, “ran away,” but “Jill’s got nothing on Jack and Jane.”

There’s an ironic resemblance to “Simple” in this song, although the subjects are basically the opposite. In this one, the narrator is “drunk up in the Smokies on a Rocky Mountain high,” with “no cars, no bars on my phone.” I don’t think it was intentional, but it’s interesting that both of these songs forsake technology.

Vocally, this one does suit Tyler Hubbard better, and surprisingly, Brian Kelley actually gets solo lines in the bridge. Like “Simple,” this song also features country instrumentation and fits nicely in the pop country realm.

“Colorado” is a catchy, lyrically smart offering from fGL with a clever hook and some actual organic instrumentation. I wish this had been chosen instead of “Simple,” or at least that they’d saved its release and made it another single, but it’s still a really good song from this group and for this listener, my favorite FGL song since “Dirt.”

Rating: 8/10