Maybe “Vice” was too edgy and serious, and country radio was too afraid to play a song about a woman drinking and having casual sex. I have no idea what the problem with “We Should be Friends” was, but since it wasn’t one of the standouts from The Weight of These Wings for me personally and also didn’t seem to resonate extremely well with the public, I’ll give country radio a pass here. And “Tin Man” was obviously just too good and too country for the format in order to ever have any hope of success, despite its ridiculous sales and award show spikes, because promoting a single with proven sales behind it just makes too much sense.
But if “Keeper of the Flame” can’t manage to do something meaningful at radio, I will be forced to conclude that it’s because Miranda has breasts–because this is a perfect 2018 country radio single, complete with anthemic lyrics, a catchy melody, and your standard rising choruses so common to the format. And oh yeah, it actually has substance and pays tribute to the singers who came before Lambert and the ones who will come after, as she keeps the flame of country music alive. But although it honors tradition lyrically, its production is modern country rock, featuring synthesizers, and in short, not something which should be polarizing to radio. In fact, it’s a song that bridges the gap between the mainstream and independent, the modern and traditional very well, like the way we had all hoped Scotty McCreery might do with his latest album.
This single is an example of how to move country music forward in a respectful manner, and in a practical sense, it’s also the best one Miranda Lambert has chosen from this album. Let’s hope it can make an impact and that her radio career isn’t completely dead at this point because success for this song means success for a song of substance, for a woman artist who deserves to be recognized, and most importantly, for a song that actually sounds like it belongs in the country genre.
Written by: Miranda Lambert, Natalie Hemby, Liz Rose
While many mainstream outlets would probably classify it as such, Country Exclusive is not a traditionalist Web site, and I am not a traditionalist writer. I do try to find some country in most of the music I review, and I do respect the roots of the music, but I believe it should move forward rather than backward, and yes, that it should evolve, just not in the ways of radio. You’ll find some reviews very shortly on this blog embracing some rather progressive stuff that those with more traditional views than myself are going to hate. I seek good music from pop country, from Red Dirt, from Americana, from whatever this new thing called fusion country is supposed to be, and from everything in between.
All that said, there is nothing that can quite replace the sound of three-chord country, from the fiddle and steel to the simple musical progressions to the stories and melodies that speak to real lives and real people. And no matter how many subgenres country splits into, it’s still good to see people carrying a torch for traditional country because even though it’s great to hear new ideas and forward-thinking music, it would be a shame if this art form died out completely or became relegated to the past like a forgotten, outdated piece of musical history that had long since run its course.
It’s comforting when you press play on this record and hear those traditional three-chord arrangements, shuffling beats, and simple melodies. Simply put, it’s just a lovely album to listen to instrumentally. My favorite thing I’ve heard about this album compared it to sunrise and springtime, and after some listens, I’d have to say that’s accurate, as it’s really bright and calming and just a good record for this time of year. Although minimalist in its approach, there’s enough variety in tempo and instrumentation to make it quite an engaging listen. It’s true the production is sparse, but within these parameters, there’s quite a bit of variety, from the bluegrass feel of “Cold Mountains” to the shuffle of “Why Don’t You Introduce me as Your Darlin'” to the atmospheric cover of “Last of my Kind.” Incidentally, this is one rare instance where a cover is better than the original.
And much of this feels authentic to Vivian Leva, not just an interpretation of style like some traditional country albums tend to be, but rather an actual outpouring of her emotion expressed through this art form. Her songs speak to love and heartbreak like many of the greatest country songs through the ages, from the wistful, resigned “Bottom of the Glass” to the hopeful yet jaded “No forever.” She looks back on the memories in “Cold Mountains” and wonders aloud what happened to her love and marriage in “Sturdy as the Land.” She’s done wishing for things she knows she can never have in the acoustic “Wishes and Dreams” and admits that she waited too long in the piano-driven closer, “Here I Am.” It all seems to come together in the title track, as she’s trying to move on. This record seems to represent her time dealing with the pain of this lost love and moving on from it for the better.
My biggest criticism of this album is Vivian Leva herself, and if vocals mean a lot to you, this might not be the record for you. Still, it’s a difficult thing to criticize because for some of you, it won’t matter all that much. Any of you who read this regularly will know vocals mean quite a lot to me, and you should know that this album has to be good because basically, I like this despite myself and my personal problems with her voice. And when you hear one of the sample songs, you’ll think I mean her tone, which is frail and soft, but that’s not the biggest issue, as tone is just something that exists; a singer cannot control that. It’s true that you might have to get used to her tone, but the bigger issue is her inflections. She does this sort of half yodel thing that is very similar to Natalie Maines’ style of singing, but unlike Maines, Vivian Leva doesn’t use it to its full effect, sometimes adding this to nearly every syllable in a song. This is most pronounced on “Bottom of the Glass,” which is unfortunately the opener. It’s least noticeable on “Why Don’t You Introduce me as Your Darlin’.” This effect combined with the fragility of her tone also means Leva can sometimes be hard to understand. For me, it’s quite distracting at times and really brings the album down, but for those who don’t care as much about vocals, it won’t be as much of a problem. There is also some weaker writing on the last couple of songs, and the album definitely ends at a lower point than where it begins.
But overall, this record just won me over. The melodies and lyrics are well-written, and there’s enough variety in instrumentation to keep this from suffering the fate of all the boring 2017 independent releases. It’s a charming little album and definitely the most country one I’ve heard in quite awhile. Sometimes it’s just nice to have fiddle and steel in your life, but just because somethings country doesn’t mean it’s good. This, fortunately, is both.
One of my greatest joys in 2016, an intermittent and strange year for Country Exclusive, was the discovery of Courtney Marie Andrews, She’s an artist who could rightly be called more folk rock than country but whose style and songwriting transcend genre classification in the same way of Linda Ronstadt, an artist Andrews channels quite a bit vocally. IN fact, it’s the voice that captures you first with her, some kind of wonderful cross between Ronstadt, Joni Mitchell, and something all her own that draws you in and leaves you hanging on every word until you’re also captured by her stories and melodies. As mentioned, 2016 was an odd year for the site and for me personally, and there was a lot of music I heard but just never had the time or energy to review; if I found the strength within myself to write about something that year, many times it was special. Andrews’ album Honest Life blew me away from cover to cover and received one of the few perfect ratings I’ve ever handed down here. So needless to say, I was incredibly excited to hear that she’d be bringing us new music, and while this doesn’t capture me on the level of her previous record, it’s still a pretty solid album from Andrews.
It does take awhile to really hit its stride, though. It’s true that Courtney’s voice is as powerful as ever, and the way she bends syllables to add extra emotion is just fantastic and something that seems to be completely inherent and unique to her as a vocalist. She’s got a knack for writing within the sweet spot of her vocals as well, bringing out high notes that display her raw emotion and intensity. All of that is there from the outset, but the lyrics fall a little short. The title track is the only standout of the first three, with its gentle advice to let our kindness outlive our physical beauty and remain even when our money is gone. This one has some really unnecessary electric guitar in the middle that frankly distracts from it and just seems overdone, but this is still nice lyrically and melodically. You kind of forgive the production choice and hope for a better one on the next song. But “Lift the Lonely from My Heart” and “Two Cold Nights in Buffalo,” though both better in terms of production, just don’t stand out or make much of an impression lyrically. They’re not bad, but they’re not living up to the standard Courtney Marie Andrews has set for herself, and three songs into this record, I am a little disappointed.
That all changes in the heart of the album. Here, Courtney reminds me exactly what she’s capable of with several incredible songs. The piano and heart-wrenching delivery of “Rough Around the Edges” set the backdrop for this tale of a character with whom we can all probably empathize on some days. Andrews’ attention to detail in this song serves to paint a startling picture of a person who’s been hit hard by life and barely hanging on; every line serves a purpose, from the dishes in the sink to the curtains being drawn and the TV constantly being on but not really being watched, to the fact that she doesn’t even feel like answering her phone for anyone today. Courtney’s knack for portraying the downtrodden continues with “Border,” as she sings of a man coming to America for freedom and a new life and reminds us, “you cannot measure a man until you’ve been down the deepest well.” I love the experiments with production they took here, as this one veers toward a more atmospheric rock style that really works for this track. And then “Took You Up” arrives, the definite crown jewel of this album. This again is the story of downtrodden people just trying to get by, but this is a story of love outlasting all and surviving when money is tight and times are hard. Courtney Marie Andrews’ genius vocal ability really adds to this song, as it’s her unique inflections which draw out all the emotion in this simple track. Put this in the hands of another singer, and it’s an average love song, but with Courtney, it’s a gem on this record. “This House” serves as a follow-up to this song, relying on all those details again to paint a portrait of a home filled with laughter and love even if it might not be, to use Courtney’s words, “much of a house.” And for all you strict traditionalists/purists out there, although Courtney Marie’s work does lie more in the folk rock realm, this song is very solidly three-chord country.
The problem with this album, though, is its inconsistency. After these four excellent songs, we have “Kindness of Strangers,” the least memorable thing on the entire project. It still speaks to the lonely and forsaken, saying that some days, it takes the thoughtfulness of strangers just to get by, but in some ways, it’s simply echoing themes that we’ve already heard presented better earlier on the album. “I’ve Hurt Worse” gets us back on track with a sarcastic look at a toxic relationship and how we sometimes love and stay with people we know aren’t right for us because we think we don’t deserve any better. The melody here is absolutely beautiful, and there’s a nice, almost Celtic flavor to the instrumentation. “Long Road Back to You” hearkens back to the themes of distance and coming home to loved ones so often explored on Andrews’ last album, closing the record elegantly.
Overall, this is a solid effort. Its greatest problem is inconsistency because rather than being solid all the way through, it’s a record of highs and lows. When Courtney hits the mark, these songs are incredible. Her gift for portraying and empathizing with the downtrodden is similar to what we saw from Brandi Carlile’s recent album, and her ability as an emotive interpreter is unparalleled. Unfortunately, unlike her last record, this one does have some forgettable moments lyrically. However, even the lesser songs in that respect are elevated by her melodies and especially by her talents as a vocalist, so it’s still a really nice album. Also, I’m probably being a bit unfair to it because I’m judging it at the high standard to which I hold Courtney Marie Andrews, and in that respect, it falls a little short. But this is still a good record with some standout songs, and many will find a lot to enjoy here.
To the people that didn’t buy a ticket to see Colter Wall last night (3/21) at Oklahoma City’s Tower Theatre, somehow leaving that venue not sold out, you missed a great chance to see Wall in an intimate setting. I just saw a tweet not two days ago from someone upset because the show nearest them had already sold out. And to the people who still have the opportunity to grab a ticket to one of his upcoming shows, do it while you still can–because let me tell you, I believe there will come a time when he’s not playing intimate shows like this any longer. Take your chances while you can so that you can say you saw Colter Wall while he was still a rising talent, and before everyone else had jumped on that particular bandwagon.
You can say what you want about Wall, that he’s a niche performer, appealing to old souls stuck in the past with his songs of hopping trains and working in mines, sleeping in lonely motels and spending his days in prison for murdering his girlfriend. Even his choice of words comes from decades past. He counts his “greenbacks” instead of dollars and uses “drew myself up” instead of a more modern phrase like “picked myself up.” In “Kate McCannon,” it’s not, “I went down to the creek,” but rather, “I made for the creek.” Certainly, Colter Wall’s art calls to old souls and those longing for a different place and time.
But rather than making him a niche performer, there’s something about all of that which seems to be speaking to many people, drawing them in so that whenever he sings, people stop what they’re doing to hear every word. Originally, he was supposed to have a full band, but due to weather delays, only Colter Wall and his guitar graced our presence at Tower Theatre. And just like on the majority of his last album, that’s all he needed. Maybe it’s the remarkable voice which calls to mind Johnny Cash and seems to come directly out of the past, or maybe it’s the stories themselves, but whenever Colter Wall sings, people listen. This is not a listening room, meant for people to remain mostly quiet; spectators drink and talk and laugh, and they did so during opener Josh Morningstar’s set and between Colter’s songs. There was some talking during Wall’s set as well, but at times, we could have heard a pin drop, as if people did not want to miss any of what this Canadian-born storyteller had to say. The most any of us spoke was to sing along to his Oklahoma-appropriate closer, “UP Against the Wall Redneck Mother,” which I have to say is the best any one of these performers I’ve seen in 2018 has closed a show…but I digress.
With a voice like that, capturing people’s attention so unlike anything I can hope to put into words here, Colter Wall almost seems destined to sing tales of the past. I came away even less convinced of him needing to expand any horizons with his next effort–which is done, by the way–particularly in the way of production, since “Sleeping on the Blacktop” was actually much more enjoyable live with just him and his guitar. I can also say the same for “The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie.” Both of these came from his debut EP, Imaginary Appalachia, which, unlike his self-titled album, contained things like fiddles and more variety in production. These two songs seemed to fit Colter much more when they were stripped back, and I am looking forward to where he will go with his next album which he said will have a western feel and mentioned Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs as a record that inspired it. If this means his third studio effort will be some sort of ridiculous cross between his last album and the Marty Stuart record Way out West, I don’t have to tell you how much I am looking forward to this. I am only speculating about that, of course, but the new songs I heard from it are promising.
Go see this guy while you have the chance to see and hear him in an intimate setting because if Colter Wall is going to keep inflicting his voice upon unsuspecting crowds this way, you won’t have that chance much longer.
Best Live Songs: “Sleeping on the Blacktop,” “Thirteen Silver Dollars,” “Snake Mountain Blues,” “Kate McCannon,” “UP Against the Wall Redneck Mother”
Keith Urban seems hell-bent on removing all vestiges of dignity from his legacy by wasting his undeniable talent as a musician and songwriter on producing the laziest examples of shitty non-country music to grace our ears these past several years. And while I was not one who hated “Female” as vehemently as many, feeling that that did at least try to offer something meaningful and substantive, Urban’s complete forsaking of his signature guitar work in favor of electronic beats is without excuse. And now we have this new single, “Coming Home,” lacking in both sound and substance and proving to be one of Urban’s laziest efforts to date.
Yeah, we all know by now that Keith chose to rip off the classic riff to Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried,” which is its own form of country music blasphemy. It’s an honor I’m sure Merle is rolling over in his grave somewhere about having been bestowed. But at least they gave him credit. AT least they admitted they had no original thought here whatsoever, which is more than Thomas Rhett could say about his rip-off of “Chain Gang” commonly known as “Crash and Burn.”
But you know why they ripped off the Haggard riff? Because that’s literally the only memorable thing about this piece of shit. If not for that, none of us would be talking about it at all. It’s vapid and shallow lyrically, meant to be about coming home, but instead of taking you to a specific place with unique details like Scotty McCreery’s “Home in my Mind,” it opts for generic bullshit that ultimately says nothing. It mentions a place where people know you and repeats lines about a phone call from far away. It’s obviously trying to reach as broad an audience as possible and thus ultimately becomes disposable to everyone. Nothing here is imaginative, original, or creative. Keith Urban sounds bored and checked out vocally, and oh yeah, since the current trend is to feature a female pop star since that makes it look like country radio is achieving progress on the tomato front, we also have Julia Michaels for a brief appearance, sounding just as underwhelming. Add generic, electronic beats, a melody that’s forgettable and stale, and yeah, literally the only thing here that makes this song worthy of even a passing comment is the Merle Haggard riff. I guess this is genius marketing by Urban, elevating his completely forgettable, average song that’s not country and also not worth anything in the pop world, by adding a classic riff and therefore a story line.
This stuff is so disappointing from an artist like Keith Urban because he knows better. Instead of showing leadership in the genre, he’s selling out hard and ignoring his talents. Instead of letting go of his radio relevancy with grace, he’s sunk to the lowest points of his career. This song is an example of one of his laziest attempts to get a hit, and it just proves the lack of effort and talent it takes to get corporate country radio to play your single, and then to get all your gullible fans to buy this. Keith Urban fans should expect and demand more because Urban is capable of delivering it. And as for the Merle rip-off, it seems par for the course for an artist so determined to forsake any shred of original thought or creativity. But can we really blame him? When all your own ideas are shit, and your song is a shallow piece of crap that no one will remember 30 seconds from now, what choice do you have but to rip off the perfectly good, iconic idea of another?
