The only thing remotely good about the atrocity that is Keith Urban’s latest album, Graffiti U, is that it’s made me want to listen to a lot of older Urban music, mainly to cleanse myself of that horror and to prove to myself what quality output he used to provide us. I’ve recommended him more than once as a modern pop country artist whose past material has been overlooked, underrated, and forgotten in light of the recent, generally appalling turns his music has taken. I realized I have never reflected on a pop country record before, so this seems like a really worthy place to start.
Release Date: 2002
Style: pop country
People Who Might Like This Album: any fan of 00’s country, those who like more modern sounds in country but still prefer organic instrumentation and lyrics with some substance
Standout Tracks: “Raining on Sunday,” “Somebody Like You,” “Who Wouldn’t Wanna be Me,” “Whenever I Run,” “What about Me,” “You’re Not my God”
Reflections: Man, this is just a really good album, and what a case for the fact that pop country isn’t inherently bad. When I was going back and spinning multiple Keith Urban records in an effort to drown the memory of his latest, I was struck by quality songs on all his first six albums, and I debated strongly within myself on whether to feature this one or Be Here. You can’t go wrong with either, but this one is just so enjoyable all the way through.
I mentioned that it’s mostly organic in instrumentation, and that’s the huge difference from this version of Keith versus the one we have now–his trademark sound is banjos mixed with electric guitars, something he’s talked about being rejected for by a record producer back in the 90’s. It was a sound that was thought to be too modern and progressive, and God, I wish he’d regress right back to it. He seems to be enjoying himself so much when playing these instruments, and he can’t seem to stop himself from adding extra vocal flourishes as well. I never noticed how little he does that anymore until I listened to this and noted the amount of random “ohs” and “mm’s” thrown in, not in the manner of today’s pop country, where it’s the whole chorus, but just because he seems to not be able to help himself from these inflections. His charisma and enjoyment has totally been lost on his recent output, and that’s a real shame.
As for the songs themselves, it’s embarrassing how far mainstream country has slipped since this came out. Some of the singles from this include “Somebody Like You,” a smart, infectious love song, “Who Wouldn’t wanna be Me,” an actual song about driving around on back roads that isn’t completely stupid, and Keith’s version of “Raining on Sunday,” which is one, definitely one of his best songs, and two, possibly the sexiest song in country music. Listening to this now, I can’t imagine why “What About Me” was never released as a single as well since it’s just as infectious and catchy as any of them. And if you doubted me about Keith’s general charisma and enjoyment of making music that came out all over this album, just give the final track, “You’re not my God,” a listen. And if you’ve heard this song and that last sentence makes no sense in light of it, you’re not listening hard enough…
I wish we could have this version of Keith Urban back. If we did, the state of modern pop country would be noticeably improved. As I say, his first six records are solid, and if you are someone who doesn’t mind modern sensibilities when the instrumentation is organic and the lyrics substantive, Urban’s discography is a good one to check out.
Keith Urban, you are so much better than this, and it gives me no pleasure whatsoever to write this review.
Honestly, this is insanely, shockingly bad. It’s an album where I was actually repeatedly taken aback by how awful each song turned out to be, a record where I kept hoping for some sort of saving grace, any glimpse of the talented, passionate artist Keith Urban can be and indeed used to be. If you asked me to name one modern country artist who has been criminally underrated or misrepresented by their current output, I’d direct you to Urban in a heartbeat–his first six solo records were solid, and I’ll stand by that. His last several have each at least carried hints of that talent. I expected this to be a disappointing album overall, but I did not imagine it would actually be one of the worst things I’ve ever heard, on the level of Walker Hayes and Sam Hunt. And you know what? In some ways, it’s worse when I have to say this about Keith Urban because I can’t say something like: Well, some of Sam Hunt’s music would be okay in pop, or Florida Georgia Line make some mindless music, but at least they’re being “authentic” to who they are and enjoying themselves. The thing is, this is not Urban, he knows better, he’s done better, and this is a pathetic attempt to stay relevant while losing many of his former core fans. It’s not even about whether this sounds like “real country”–it doesn’t by those terms, but Keith Urban was not particularly “real-country” sounding to begin with–it’s about the fact that it clearly doesn’t sound like Keith himself. I won’t even waste your time and mine debating the country qualities of it because there are too many other, and better, reasons why this album is terrible than how country it sounds.
The worst problem? The God-awful production that permeates this whole thing. There are some songs here, like “Same Heart” and “Way Too Long,” that actually don’t start out awful. There’s some decent writing here, and then it just gets buried in senseless, overproduced layers of crap until you can only pay attention to that element. Overproduced is not even the right word for this really. The production changes are so sporadic and pointless that it’s as if an eight-year-old broke into the recording studio and pressed every single button at random, and Keith thought it would be funny to send it out like that for human consumption. It’s not as if they layered too much pop sound or electronic beats or vocal effects–it’s not one thing, it’s all of them, and others, at different times, creating such a cacophony of distraction that it renders even the decent songs on paper unlistenable. “Same heart” actually sounds like two different songs from the verse to the chorus. “My Wave” probably wouldn’t have been a bad song if Keith had actually played it on his guitar, but instead it’s some sort of horrendously overproduced collaboration with Shy Carter. And we actually have beatboxing in “Never Comin’ Down,” which, in an album of horrifying material, may be the worst.
I said I didn’t hate “Female,” and actually, it’s one of the only songs here that doesn’t make me cringe. Its presence here is both made better by the fact it’s the only thing with some actual intelligence and maturity and good intentions in the verses and worse by the fact its chorus becomes somehow more stupid and the song itself so obviously opportunistic alongside the rest of this train wreck. As for actual female representation, we do have some; there’s Lindsay Ell in “Horses,” contributing about half a line…hey, Urban’s team, here’s a novel idea–release this to radio, so we can pretend that women are actually making progress when it goes to #1 automatically. You think that “half a line” is hyperbole? She literally only says, “run, run, run” a few times by herself…yes, that’s it. Any backup singer could have done that, and the women in “Female” who are not credited actually can be heard more, but if we feature Lindsay Ell on the track and then manipulate it up the charts, we can pretend we don’t have a tomato issue. Not to be unfair, Keith also has Kassi Ashton on “Drop Top,” and she actually gets a whole damn chorus. I mean, the song is like some 80’s pop tune about some girl at Coachella, but whatever. Ashton at least sings her part with some passion and energy. And of course he also has pop artist Julia Michaels participating for her obligatory four lines in the embarrassing Merle Haggard “Mama Tried” rip-off song known as “Coming Home,” so there’s that.
Speaking of which, while we’ve all been focused on how awful it is that he ripped off Merle, why don’t we take a second to point out that the rip-off is not even correct, or even on guitar? I mean, for God’s sake, Keith Urban is a phenomenal guitar player, and he couldn’t even play the damn riff on a guitar? Whether or not you think this album is country-sounding–it isn’t, let’s be fair–but regardless of semantics or genre or “real country” or whatever the hell you want to call it, can’t we all agree that Keith Urban is known more than anything for his guitar playing? He’s a great musician, and yet his guitar licks are nonexistent on this record. This is not just about what he’s doing to the country genre, it’s about the fact that this is an affront and an embarrassment to Keith Urban fans who fell in love with him for that sound. Not only that, but surely he enjoys that part of his career. Can he really be content with beatboxing instead of shredding, not even playing his guitar in a significant capacity once in awhile? Really?
As for the rip-offs and the mockery he actually is making of the country genre, “Coming Home” isn’t even the only instance of this. “Texas Time” is a less offensive but still obvious rip-off, this one of Don Williams’ “Tulsa Time.” Even despite that, this song is actually somewhat catchy and a decent pop track, except the eight-year-old hit the dying cow/vomiting guitar buttons simultaneously towards the end of this and managed to ruin it. Seriously, it sounds nothing short of piercing on headphones, and once again, it’s not a case of overproduction so much as a case of random, unnecessary, cacophonous production. I promise you, not every song on this is terrible by any means lyrically, but once they ran this through the blender of random sounds and cluttered beats, not one track here is actually listenable all the way through.
I tried to find some redeeming quality in this album. I tried to find some resemblance, some last vestiges of hope that the Keith Urban who gave us “But for the Grace of God” and “Making Memories of Us” is still in there somewhere. I tried to reconcile the man who sang “Raining on Sunday” with the one singing “Drop Top,” the one who made a career out of heartfelt songwriting and long guitar solos with the one now beatboxing and singing about Coachella. I wanted to find one good thing to say about this, and truthfully, I can’t. It’s not about country versus pop, and it’s not even completely about the legends whose music he’s defacing. It’s about the fact that Keith Urban has sold himself out completely and fantastically, has traded all shreds of dignity for fading relevancy, and has forsaken his talent and the things that make him unique as an artist in favor of pumping out the same generic crap as everyone else. If nothing else, Urban fans should be up in arms about the glaring and disgusting lack of Keith’s guitar on a fifteen-track album. Keith Urban fans, you deserve better. Country music, you deserve better. Keith Urban, you’re capable of delivering better, much better.
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?
I tweeted during the CMA’s that Keith Urban’s latest single, titled “Female,” was “quite a good song actually.” I didn’t say it was country, and I’d like to make two things clear here–one, Urban’s forsaking of his guitar talent to produce pop/adult contemporary stuff like this irks me beyond any semblance of reason, especially as a proud owner of his first six records, (you know, when he actually tried), and two, after being forced to hear this from virtually everywhere this past week, my opinion of the song has gone down some. Now it’s just there for me. It just exists. But apparently the fashion among everyone is to hate it with all vehemence and even, for some, to find it offensive. And as a woman, I’d like to add some equilibrium to that argument.
Even among people who hate this with all passion, there is a consensus that Keith’s heart was in the right place trying to say something and speak out about the recent rash of sexual assault claims and the systematic discrimination of women in general. And let me tell you, we need men to speak out about this. I keep seeing people say versions of, “well, the industry would make more of a statement by actually playing more women,” and I couldn’t agree more with the sentiment that this becomes an empty gesture if it’s not backed up by the actual inclusion of more women in say, the very industry in which Keith Urban makes his living. But having said that, if only women write about this and speak about this, nothing will change because in many cases, it’s mostly women who will listen. We need men to be up front about this, and I applaud Keith Urban for showing the leadership to do that, not to mention for recording this and releasing it in a timely manner when mainstream Nashville notoriously takes forever to transition songs from a pen and paper to the final product.
Keith Urban’s colossal mistake? Not actually writing the song himself, but recording a song penned in part by Shane McAnally. The verses in this song are actually quite good, and they address real, specific issues like how people say women deserved what they got because they wore tight skirts, or how many Christian men excuse their behavior toward their wives and other women because God made Adam first. The problem is that listastic thing characteristic of writers like McAnally and so many others who write by committee, coming out in full force to infect the chorus by throwing out a bunch of descriptors of women…oh, and some words like “suit of armor” and “river wild” that have absolutely nothing to do with women at all. It’s hearing this all week that has taken the song down for me, and yet it’s that part which will probably give this song its only fighting chance at radio. Still, it can’t be denied that country radio, an industry undeniably rampant with sexism, will hesitate to play this, and again, the fact that Keith Urban doesn’t give a shit about that should be commended. But it’s the efforts of McAnally and his cowriters to still make this song radio-friendly that deprive it of any substance, or at least that make the parts with substance somehow matter less.
So, I could take or leave this song when it comes down to it. It’s there, it exists, it stands at a 5 rating, and i daresay it’d be a 6 if it in any way, shape, or form resembled country. I don’t hate it. I don’t find it offensive, as some people have, for its use of the word “female,” although I understand how this can be offensive in certain contexts and by certain people. I don’t find the descriptors in the chorus stereotypical so much as lazy; it’s just a list of words thrown in there to, like I say, try to make this work on radio. So, it’s a great effort by Keith Urban, and it falls short in the writing, and ultimately, a song that could have said a lot, and indeed does manage to say something worthwhile in its verses, doesn’t really execute all the way through. That said, the vitriol this song is receiving is unnecessary. It’s forgettable, and perhaps a missed opportunity by Keith Urban, but it’s not the horrific mess some would claim it to be, at least not for this listener.
Written by: Shane McAnally, Nicolle Galyon, Ross Copperman
Kasey Chambers is a household name in Australia; she’s released eleven albums, and she’s been winning awards and selling millions of records for years. Still, her name is somewhat obscure in the States, and that’s honestly probably because she wouldn’t have that type of mainstream success here–her music ranges from more traditional, rootsy material to country rock to folk rock to the occasional country pop song to some blues, all of which are represented on this record, but the commonality in all of it is that it’s quite unpolished. Even the more pop-leaning offerings aren’t pop enough for the American mainstream, and so she remains as unknown to some as many of her independent American counterparts despite her success in her home country. It wasn’t until 2015’s excellent Bittersweet that I discovered Chambers and her music, and I’ve since found a lot to enjoy throughout her discography. She’s back now with a double album, which is always a risky undertaking, but for the most part, this is a strong one, and though there’s some filler, it’s minimal.
Disc 1: “The Sing Sing Sessions”
I separate this into two discs because this isn’t just a long album, it’s two albums with completely different producers that make a consistent, cohesive record despite themselves. I almost hesitate to rate this as one project, and the only reason I do is because you must buy them together. This first disc, dubbed “The Sing Sing sessions,” is the stronger of the two and was produced by Paul Kelly, another Australian household name. ON its own, I’d give it an 8.5 at least, maybe a 9.
This disc opens in fine fashion with the banjo that backs many of Kasey’s songs on the catchy, infectious “Pompeii.” I should mention that Kasey Chambers underwent nodule surgery between Bittersweet and the recording of this album, and her voice is definitely stronger. The new depth comes out in full force on the empowering, angry “Ain’t No Little Girl,” easily one of the standouts of this whole thing. If you single out one track of twenty, make it this one, and if you can afford two, “Jonestown” is the other crown jewel. This one tells a great story of a town where people take refuge from hardship and discrimination. It’s an excellent piece of songwriting, and it’s also beautiful melodically. I mentioned the sonic variety of Chambers, and it speaks to her talent that she can deliver equally great performances on a traditional song like this and the rocking, bluesy “Ain’t NO Little Girl.” She explores faith in many of her songs as well, and this album is no different; “Golden Rails” is a fun little gospel-infused tune that may not stand out on the first listen, but you’ll keep coming back to it for its catchy production and lyrics. Kasey also has a knack for story songs, and “Behind the Eyes of Henri Young” captures perfectly the emotion in the chilling tale of a seventeen-year-old boy who went to Alcatraz for petty theft and ended up dying there after being mistreated in prison. There’s also “Romeo & Juliet” featuring Irish singer-songwriter Foy Vance, which tells this story in a new, fresh way, although the lyrics can be admittedly hard to understand at first, and I wish Vance had been given more to do than just echoing chambers in the verses. Kasey also tells her own humorous story in “Talkin’ Baby Blues,” complete with running away from home at thirteen and dating a man who was “barely old enough to vote,” all while putting everything she felt down in song. “Summer Pillow” touches the slightly more pop leanings of Chambers, delivering a nice heartbreak song–“isn’t that life, to give me that, for just a minute and then take it back. Isn’t that love, to make me see everything that never will belong to me.” “You Ain’t worth Suffering for” is also basically pop rock, and this is the only moment of filler on this first disc, although it’s grown on me a little. Mainly, it’s the production here that doesn’t do it for me, and overall, this first half–well, eleven of the twenty, so slightly more than half–is quite strong and does a good job showcasing all the different styles explored by Kasey Chambers over the years. but it’s always a risk extending things and going for quantity, so it’s with that in mind that we head into Disc 2.
Disc 2: “The Foggy Mountain Sessions”
Disc 2, produced by Kasey’s brother and longtime producer Nash Chambers, opens just as strongly as the first, if not more so, with the excellent “Shackle and Chain.” With its call-and-response style lyrics and sparse production, it’s more akin to some of the material from Bittersweet,–which production wise was quite different from other Chambers albums–so if that’s the Kasey Chambers you were looking for, you’ll find more to appreciate on this half of the record. There’s the ever-building, almost Gothic “If I Died,” which sees Chambers issuing out some last requests–“If I died on the bayou, and the sun is goin’ down, would you float me like Moses, so they don’t put me in the cold, hard ground?” It’s got some very nice production which really makes the song, and I think Nash Chambers shines brightest on this track. There are also two great collaborations on this half; one is a banjo-driven gospel song called “NO Ordinary Man” featuring great harmonies from Harry Hookey, Vika Bull, and Linda Bull, and the other is a nice duet with Keith Urban called “If we Had a Child.” The latter has the same problem as the Foy Vance collaboration, however–Keith Urban’s contributions consist of nothing more than harmony and echoing Kasey, and I’d have liked to have heard more from him. The album closer is another version of “Ain’t no Little Girl,” this one called the “FM Lounge Version,” and basically, it boils down to being a subdued version of the song. I prefer the angry version, but both are nice, and both stand out and manage to sound unique, and it’s interesting to have two versions of the same song from two different producers which still serve to unite this whole record.
Disc 2, however, does have some filler. I would say that this second disc is a more consistent record production wise, and therefore, when you do hear the more country pop songs, they stick out on this half of the album. The lyrics in the title track and “satellite” are also pretty weak, and so for multiple reasons, these two just seem like filler on a twenty-track project. I love the production of “Annabelle,” but the lyrics here leave me wanting more too. I feel like it’s trying to tell a great story, but I’m just not getting it somehow. If I’m rating disc 2 by itself, it’s still a solid album, and it probably gets a 7.5.
Overall
People say that double albums always have too much filler, and I’d have to say this one does have a little. However, I wouldn’t say that Kasey Chambers made a mistake in releasing two separate discs because each disc represents a distinct style in production. I do think the first is stronger, but if you trim this down to traditional album length, ten to twelve songs, you leave out some good stuff, as well as possibly making the songs not flow as easily into each other being from two different producers. If you trim this down to fifteen songs, you have an excellent album, so maybe it’s a bit long at twenty, but again, it’s not your traditional double album with the different producers and styles, so I’m not sure that would flow as well either. As it is, we have a two-disc, twenty-track offering from Chambers, and for the most part, it’s very strong. It showcases a wide range of sounds, so there’s something here for everyone. The songwriting is solid throughout, and overall, I really enjoyed this record. Definitely recommend this both as a nice place to begin with Kasey Chambers and as a solid addition to her discography.
