I’ve somewhat missed the regular structure of this series as of late, but I also know that going back to the former weekly schedule probably wouldn’t be for the best. So, I’m going to experiment and try to now make this a monthly feature, separated by the usual three categories: Boom, Bust, and In-Between. I don’t know if it will really work out, but I’m excited to at least try. Onward!
Boom
Gabe Lee, “Merigold” (written by Gabe Lee)
Damn it, what is it with Gabe Lee and excellent songs of his named after women? Granted, they also tend to be downbeat songs of loss, with just enough whimsical detail to look back at the time spent together with fondness. But this aims far darker, not just in the bluegrass instrumentation that will reportedly coat his upcoming album, but especially in the content. It’s a song told from a husband’s point-of-view as he shambles around the house during his wife’s final days of life from a cancer battle. And, with Lee being the detailed writer he is, he captures the confusing haze with heartbreaking precision, where the hardest part comes in knowing the end is coming without knowing how to proceed afterward, if he even can for himself at all.
It’s a song that hits hard for me personally, and it just may be his best yet, which says quite a lot. Last year’s The Hometown Kid was my favorite album of that year for its shaggy, hangdog charm, and Lee’s upcoming album is thus far set to repeat that … albeit for much different reasons. Excellent song.
Hot Country Knights feat. Darla McFarland, “Herassment” (written by Lainey Wilson, Luke Dick, Dierks Bentley, and Jim Beavers)
YES! I was worried that Dierks Bentley’s Hot Country Knights outfit was destined to remain a casualty of the pandemic, so not only is this spoof ‘90s-country band back, they even brought on a … slightly familiar face for their return (no spoilers, of course). Granted, I guess the face isn’t the topic of interest this time around anyway. This isn’t the band’s first ass-devoted anthem, nor will it be the last. But with the setup between our two vocalists and the gentle keys and fiddle brushing against the pedal steel, there’s enough subtle yet wildly hilarious, self-aware attitude present to probably make it their best yet. Come for the great sound, stay for the innuendos and one-liners, which are way clever than you’d expect for a familiar joke like this.
Lydia Loveless, “Toothache” (written by Lydia Loveless)
And speaking of returns, we have a very welcome one from Lydia Loveless. Following 2020’s understandably frayed Daughter, it’s good to hear them back in brash, don’t-give-a-fuck territory. From a melodic and compositional standpoint this feels familiar to their earlier work, but there’s still something so fresh and invigorating about the actual snarled presentation … even if this is, in essence, a song about self-destruction and barely holding it together; an implosion with the impact of an explosion, I guess. Either way, it’s a great first step toward the next chapter.
Turnpike Troubadours, “Chipping Mill” (written by Lance Roark and Ralph Casey Edwards)
Anyone who said this band would suffer in quality following Evan Felker’s sobriety can go eat a jar of toenail clippings, because this is a classic return to form in every way. “Mean Old Sun” felt a bit more like a cryptic, foreboding teaser in some respects, but this is a melodically rollicking blast from beginning to end, where the usual mix of punchy electric axes and fiddle give this all the anthemic heart it needs. Granted, in familiar fashion, this is screw-up territory for a character who keeps on trucking regardless, because despite all he’s endured and lost, he just wants his love for an old flame to count for something. Fantastic song; they’re two for two thus far off this upcoming album.
Carly Pearce feat. Chris Stapleton, “We Don’t Fight Anymore” (written by Pete Good, Shane McAnally, and Carly Pearce)
Given that Carly Pearce is starting off her next era with a very slow, heavy ballad that’s very adult and mature in its framing and balanced phenomenally well with that crisp dobro play, I can see she’s doing her best to further Patty Loveless’ influence and legacy. Granted, that feels unfair to just how far Pearce herself has come as a performer and writer over the years, especially when this is just excellently constructed and executed in every regard.
It’s a song told from a married woman’s perspective, where, due to neglect and the general wear-and-tear of monotonous years, the relationship is over in every regard other than officially. And while there’s a touch of anger there, it’s defined more by its disappointment that what was once special between them just can’t be repaired. In theory, I must admit I was hesitant to hear what Chris Stapleton might contribute here, given that his natural bellow is meant to ring out, rather than exercise restraint for a somber ballad like this. But even if he is just a background character here – which would usually be a nitpick of mine, except that it does feel better suited to showcase just Pearce’s perspective here – the two have great chemistry together, and having him echo the haggard frustrations toward the end adds a great touch overall. I’m excited to see where we go from here.
Miranda Lambert feat. Leon Bridges, “If You Were Mine” (written by Ashley Monroe, Jesse Frasure, and Miranda Lambert)
I have to admit, Miranda Lambert’s side ventures and collaborations have interested me more in recent years than her solo work. And with her now being an independent artist, I’m excited to see just what comes into fruition for her in that regard. So, as the first step on that journey, “If You Were Mine” is pretty solid. It feels a bit basic in its overall composition and lyrical setup – a laidback, breezy love song all in all. But it’s so lush and easy, helped not only by a great soulful production that keeps the groove mellow, but also some great chemistry between Lambert and Bridges that really elevates this. I don’t know if this will lead to anything more, but as a one-off collaboration, this is nice.
Brad Paisley, “So Many Summers” (written by Brad Paisley, Lee Thomas Miller, and Ross Copperman)
Absence only makes the heart grow fonder when it comes to you, Brad Paisley. It’s hard to believe it’s been six years since he released a new album, and given his run of standalone single releases dating back almost just as long, there’s no promise of anything further on the horizon. Even still, I’ll take these as they come these days. It feels a bit too on-the-nose to call “So Many Summers” nostalgic, given that it’s literally all about preserving good times and innocent days. But given that this feels like a return to form in its rounded, mid-2000s production anchored in great electric guitar and fiddle interplay, and that Paisley has always been at great at seeing things through the eyes of a child, it’s certainly a fitting description nonetheless.
Even then, for as lighthearted as it is thematically, there is something heavy in the way it branches beyond the summer-themed framing to address the passage of time itself in other ways. Again, I’m always going to hold out hope for a new full-length project, but anything in between is nice, too – especially when this may be one of his best singles in a long time.
In-Between
Lainey Wilson, “Watermelon Moonshine” (written by Jordan Schmidt, Lainey Wilson, and Josh Kear)
I feel like I’ve already discussed Lainey Wilson through this roundup. Huh, weird. Anyway, for as much as this feels inspired by Deana Carter’s “Strawberry Wine” in construction and execution as two songs rooted in teenage romance, this doesn’t really land with the same impact for me. Heck, with this song’s dated-sounding synthetic moments that crop up at points, it sometimes sounds like it precedes an obvious classic – and not in a good way. Even just for recent comparisons, I think Kimberly Kelly’s “Summers Like That” from last year nailed this theme better. This just feels a bit more broadly constructed in its story and not as interesting.
Bust
Jason Aldean, “Try That In A Small Town” (written by Kelley Lovelace, Tully Kennedy, Neil Thrasher, and Kurt Allison)
I try and avoid Jason Aldean as much as possible in every regard these days, but sometimes the trash is so vile that it needs a good thrashing. Granted, just off production and instrumentation alone this is the same recycled bag of nothing we’ve heard from him time and time again: fake handclaps, rock guitars with no actual snarl or body to them, and an awfully dull melody to carry it all through. I’d also call this another example of his fake machismo leading to a persistent ugliness in his music, but this is truly repugnant even for his standards. It’s a masturbatory battle cry for his audience and a thinly veiled political tirade that tries to present itself as a small-town pride song instead.
And yet, even if his actual music lands with the impact of a wet fart, there’s something so angry to the sentiment here, a dog whistle that really could rile up the wrong kinds of people. In other words, utter trash.
The Musical Divide 