The Musical Divide

It’s a tad overdue, but I’m happy to finally start our exploration of the country music hits of the 1980s. This decade might, however, also present a greater challenge for me compared to the ‘90s and 2000s, when I was able to draw on nostalgia and assemble each list with relative ease. As we continue moving backward in time, I’ll likely take more time to discover songs and savor any potential greatness I come across that’s new to me, even if revisiting those more well-known classics will also be a treat. So if these lists roll out a bit slower henceforth, that’s partially why.

That was already put to the test with the hits of 1989, where the initial list I’d cultivated changed I don’t know how many times and classic songs I thought for sure would make the cut just, well, didn’t. Even just compared to our examination of the early ‘90s, this feels like a night-and-day difference in terms of artist representation. Granted, given that this is the year that gave way to so many new names and faces who’d change country music in the coming decade, that’s understandable. And if anything, that makes for a more interesting and varied list anyway, because this is a surprisingly really strong year in terms of both quantity and quality.

So, as a refresher, regardless of whether you are or aren’t new to this feature, this is a series in which we explore the hits of yesteryear – not necessarily the best or most impactful ones (because that’s just a silly exercise anyway), but rather just personal favorites, meaning I invite you to share yours, as well. If you’re curious as to what qualifies for this particular list, here’s a handy guide. Let’s get started.

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No. 10 – Mary Chapin Carpenter, “Never Had It So Good” (written by Mary Chapin Carpenter and John Jennings)

OK, so despite my introduction, we’re actually starting in fairly familiar territory, with an artist who graced many of my lists from the ‘90s. And as an early hit, this feels like it perfected one of Mary Chapin Carpenter’s comfort zones for smartly written kiss-offs that could be petty and bitter while still being righteously enjoyable. Maybe it’s because the self-deprecating reflections sketched out here can feel somewhat relatable in watching someone move on with their life, even when we hope there’s a chance they don’t and come running back, or at least stumble along the way like the rest of us. Couple it all with that warm, rounded groove, and there’s a bittersweet simmer here with which I can find a personal resonance. It might find Carpenter’s character at her lowest, but as far as the artist in question is concerned, it’s another winner.

No. 9 – Restless Heart, “Big Dreams In A Small Town” (written by Van Stephenson, Dave Robbins, and Tim DuBois)

This, on the other hand, really took me by surprise. Not so much for the slightly cliché content – which is mainly about dreaming of leaving a small town in one’s teenage years, only to settle down within it in adulthood – but rather for the execution. You’ve got Restless Heart’s traditionally killer harmonies combined with an equally excellent melody atop a spacious bed of airy piano, accordion, and smoky guitars. Sure, that’s a formula that cribs from rock music of the same decade, but when it’s able to capture the feel of youthful exuberance and a rush of adrenaline through all of those big potential dreams – even if they’re just that: dreams – I couldn’t care less. Sometimes you need to cling to those fantasies in order to keep going, and if your priorities change along the way and those dreams change form, so be it. This is an excellent little gem from an underrated band’s discography.

No. 8 – Patty Loveless, “Timber I’m Falling in Love” (written by Kostas)

And now, we return to another familiar name, with one of the pluckiest songs of her entire career. Granted, that it’s so straightforward and breezy in its simple declaration of love means it doesn’t really hit the same highs as her ‘90s work - very high bar for that, though. But when it’s this joyous throughout and you can pretty much hear Loveless’ smile through the recording (as well as Vince Gill’s, kinda-sorta), it’s simply just greatness of a different variety. And considering it was her big breakthrough hit that gave way to so much more, I’m usually one to fall in love with it time and time again after every revisit.

No. 7 – Garth Brooks, “Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)” (written by Randy Taylor and Garth Brooks)

Coming off of that ‘90s list, it actually feels weird to hear Garth Brooks in his career infancy like this, especially with a debut single centered around the burnout of growing older and touring on the road. It’s especially weird to hear it come from an artist who’d become a bit more vivacious on record and especially live, for better or worse – or at least aim for broader emotional strokes, like on “Tomorrow Never Comes” (another hit from this year and one I greatly enjoy … although whether it’s featured here is another story).

If anything, it’s what makes “Much Too Young” a nice anomaly in his discography. The titular sentiment is pretty much universal no matter the context, and the low-key galloping groove just sort of forces it along as if it’s capturing the life of one simply going through the motions, with little more than bad booze and a worn-out tape of Chris LeDoux to cling to for happiness. And even if this song captures him in a state where he can realize all of this, everything has mostly slipped away anyway. But considering that both the writing and presentation are this damn great, it feels anything but stale – it’s an underrated masterpiece of his discography.

Now if only he still wasn’t this stubborn about his music being readily available to hear and share.

No. 6 – Dwight Yoakam, “I Sang Dixie” (written by Dwight Yoakam)

I’m not sure I can argue that “I Sang Dixie” is one of Dwight Yoakam’s most underrated songs, given that it’s one of only two No. 1 hits of his career. But I think I can say it’s become one of his most underappreciated with time. This song doesn’t capture the wily, swaggering bluster with which classics like “Guitars, Cadillacs” or “Fast As You” were born from and perfected along the way. This is slower and more contemplative, a final lament for a Southerner dying on the streets of Los Angeles from complications with alcoholism, with only one other person there to comfort him while everyone else walks on by.

And no, it’s not a city-versus-country sort of tale; it’s a simple plea for compassion and humanity and an examination of two different worlds. It’s so poignantly simple and beautiful that I’m not sure what to say beyond that, but while the dying man’s tale may have largely gotten shunned within the song itself, its message resonates outside of it, and is one that shouldn’t be ignored.

No. 5 – Suzy Bogguss, “Cross My Broken Heart” (written by Verlon Thompson and Kye Fleming)

This is another relatively straightforward song where the presentation nails it for me, and goes to show why Suzy Bogguss’ first minor hit should have been the start of so much more. The melancholic, Spanish-flavored acoustics set a pretty devastating backdrop as it is, but it’s Bogguss herself who really sells this, nailing that hopeless frustration and desperation of being unable to move on while also sounding near the end of her rope in her fruitless attempts. Her suggestions to herself of how to move on feel like they’re made in vain knowing full well she’s still in love. Simple all in all, but poignant in its pure devastation.

No. 4 – Clint Black, “A Better Man” (written by Clint Black and Hayden Nicholas)

I told you we’d get to this eventually. Granted, for as much as I also love the hangdog charm of “Killin’ Time,” it’s this tempered reflection of love lost that’s stuck with me a bit more over the years. But despite the common Merle Haggard influence that clung to Black on his early records, there’s a strange contrast to those early hits. Unlike that aforementioned seedy songs made for the honky tonks that revels in its bitterness greatly, this coasts more on a delicate midtempo groove and melodic flow and sees heartache more as a learning opportunity. It shows that even when things have to end, it doesn’t make the time spent along the way wasted or without value. And it takes a strong sense of maturity to be able to see that. It takes even more class to frame through such a wistful and rollicking lens as this. A timeless classic, and for damn good reason.

No. 3 – K.T. Oslin, “This Woman” (written by K.T. Oslin)

The next two songs here really caught me by surprise in a great way. I admit, outside of “Come Next Monday” and “’80s Ladies,” K.T. Oslin is one of those names I’m looking forward to getting better acquainted with as we explore this decade. And while this particular song skews fairly close to the Fleetwood Mac Rumours palette through its dark, smoky, reverb-heavy guitars and twinkling, nocturnal key textures that only gain more heft and groove as they progress … I mean, hell, it’s still a really damn great formula! And it’s also one that Oslin herself owns in all of its sensual glory: a song where our character knows what’s she after and is going to get it, come hell or high water. Then again, this is also framed as a temporary fling where she loves fast and hard, so even if that flame is only here to burn for a bit, it’s raging hot on this particular record.

No. 2 – Dan Seals, “They Rage On” (written by Bob McDill and Dan Seals)

Like K.T. Oslin, Dan Seals is another name I’m looking forward to get better acquainted with through this feature. Funny enough, I’ve written harshly about his only two hits from the ‘90s before and don’t even really remember it, so I feel like I owe him an apology of some sort after hearing this song, because it really blew me away. Not just for the warm, gentle acoustic accompaniment that defies so much of the badly dated polish that plagued otherwise good songs from this year, but because all of that restraint is used effectively to capture, well, loneliness.

And really, it’s more like the essence of loneliness itself: a song that captures snapshots of lived-in characters with nowhere to go who seek temporary comfort in like-minded arms. I’ve seen it described as hopelessness, but I’m not necessarily sure I agree with that. If anything, healthy or not, pushing onward even after the personal fire has expired is a testament to strength in its own right, even if it doesn’t feel like it for these broken-down characters. Even if it’s a search for hope in vain, it’s still something, achingly sad as it is to hear regardless against the touches of crying fiddle that crop up further on in the song. But through it all, there’s something uncomfortably relatable about losing faith in magic and people. An absolutely beautiful song through and through, and a gem I’m glad raged on long enough for me to hear.

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As always, before unveiling my No. 1 pick, here are more than a few honorable mentions that just barely missed the cut for this list, presented in no particular order:

Eddy Raven, “In a Letter to You” (written by Dennis Linde)

Just a super fun discovery all around; I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.

Foster & Lloyd, “Fair Shake” (written by Radney Foster, Bill Lloyd, and Guy Clark)

A dark and groovy final hit, which is the territory in which this short-lived duo mainly operated.

The Judds, “Change of Heart” (written by Naomi Judd)

An absolutely beautiful ballad that was hard to leave out of the top 10 proper; one of their best.

Earl Thomas Conley, “What I’d Say” (written by Robert Byrne and Will Robinson)

Honestly, I prefer the Gary Allan version of this that ditches the dated ‘80s polish, but there’s still something magical and livelier about Earl Thomas Conley’s delivery on the original.

Rodney Crowell, “After All This Time” (written by Rodney Crowell)

A timeless love song that might sound cheesy and overblown in the wrong hands, but sounds graceful and thankful in Rodney Crowell’s tempered hands.

Clint Black, “Killin’ Time” (written by Clint Black and Hayden Nicholas)

Hey, I told you before it had to be here somewhere!

Dan Seals, “Big Wheels in the Moonlight” (written by Bob McDill and Dan Seals)

This is the bigger Dan Seals hit from this year and the one most seem to prefer to “They Rage On.” I might disagree, but I did find another gem from Dan Seals worth appreciating, and that’s still a win.  

Kathy Mattea, “Come From the Heart” (written by Richard Leigh and Susanna Clark)

Kathy Mattea tackles a Guy/Susanna Clark song; of course it goes great.

Alabama, “Song of the South” (written by Bob McDill)

This is one of those anthemic sing-a-longs for the ages and another song I’m sad I couldn’t slot into the top ten proper. I’ve said it before, but this band’s upbeat, fiddle-driven country-folk and southern-rock-flavored cuts are among my favorites by them.

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And now, my No. 1 pick:

No. 1 - Keith Whitley, “I’m No Stranger to the Rain” (written by Sonny Curtis and Ron Hellard)

It feels unfortunately easier to write around this song and the context with which it was released than discuss its technical elements. It was Keith Whitley’s last single released while he was alive, an eerily prophetic declaration to persevere through the pain, and an admirable quality given how Whitley was poised for greater heights in country music.

Sadly, that never happened. Whitley became another name like Hank Williams or Patsy Cline where the tragedy prevailed over the triumph and country music fans lost another legend far too soon. Yet despite that – and despite how “I’m No Stranger to the Rain” can’t help but paint a dark and lonely picture on paper – there’s something genuinely earnest and chipper about the sentiment. Restrained, mind you, to reinforce that the artist in question truly has practiced what he’s preaching, but also optimistic enough in his conviction to make it out the other side, even if he comes out drenched.

I wish that’s how it always was, and we could write more about the country artists who triumphed over their demons rather than suffered, even if they made great country music from that pain. But he told us himself that impending doom was a daily fixture in his life on “I’m No Stranger To The Rain,” and it’s what makes his death from alcoholism at such a young age still such a sad loss for what could have been. Suffice it to say, natural soul like Whitley’s can’t be replaced (and to this day, still hasn’t been), but it doesn’t lessen the impact or intentions of the message mapped out here. There also really couldn’t have been a better country song to symbolize a new chapter in country music history, which is another reason this tops my list. Mustering up the courage to dance through a hurricane still takes a special strength all its own, after all.