Song Reviews: The Last Roundup (Keith Urban, Dylan Marlowe & Dylan Scott, HunterGirl, Tigirlily Gold)

All right folks, I guess we’d better do one more for the road.

I’m actually pretty well caught up on the Mediabase Top 50 right now, but if we’re not going to be doing any song reviews for the foreseeable future, we’d better cover as much ground as we can before we turn the lights out. So who are the lucky acts that get to face my cynical judgement one final time?

Keith Urban, “Messed Up As Me”

There are some artists that I’m going to miss talking about…and Urban is not one of them.

This one doesn’t have the anger of a standard Ex-Boyfriend track, but it concocts the same sort of delusional fantasy that you often find in them: The narrator is “blue…dark blue” after a recent breakup, and what starts as a hope that “maybe you’d be as messed up as me” starts becoming a bit more declarative (and obnoxious), saying that they’re putting up a strong front but “you’re fallin’ to pieces on the inside” and that “the truth is nobody leaves your head and your heart, and your bed and your sheets as messed up as me.” It’s a flimsy, baseless claim that makes the narrator seem petty and small, and really doesn’t entice the listener to care about the speaker or sympathize with their plight. The bland, flavorless production doesn’t help matters either: It’s driven by a basic acoustic guitar, some lifeless electric axes, and a programmed beat that’s forced to provide whatever energy the track has all by itself. The resulting atmosphere is…well, it isn’t, to be honest: It’s mildly dark thanks to the minor chords, but the neutral instrument tones and synthetic percussion give the song a chilly vibe that’s devoid of any real emotion, and it repels the audience more than it draws them in. Urban’s performance is no better: He doesn’t sound all that depressed as he delivers his lines (and the harmony work on the verses makes him sound like a robot), and his weak attempt to bring any sort of feeling to the performance boils down to one loud inhalation before the last chorus. If I know me, there’s a good chance that I return to the blogosphere at some point, but you can add Urban’s name to the list of artists that I really hope have retired and left before I get back.

Rating: 4/10. Hard pass.

Dylan Marlowe & Dylan Scott, “Boys Back Home”

Are you #$%@& serious? Is Nashville really going to stick me with a generic Bro-Country retread for my last review session?

Marlowe is a Georgia native and yet another creation of TikTok who turned a massive following on the platform into a deal with Sony Music Nashville early in 2023. (I don’t consider TikTok the national security threat that some folks in D.C. do, but if banning it would force Nashville to do more due diligence in finding new acts to break, I might actually support that.) The lyrics here are so generic that I’m surprised that ChatGPT didn’t get a writing credit: The small towns, the Friday nights, the dirt roads, the dust clouds, the truck circles, the bonfires, the random clothing brand name-drop…heck, it’s even got some awkward phrases that no human would ever think to write (“dirt road beers” sound kind of nasty, and has anyone in the history of history used the phrase “farm fire” before?). The production is a cheap knockoff of Florida Georgia’s “Cruise,” with its deliberate tempo, in-your-face electric guitars, mix of real and synthetic production, and even the token instrument in the background (it’s a dobro instead of a banjo this time, but it plays the exact same role). Marlowe himself turns in an aggressively replaceable performance that fails to put the listener in a party mood, and Scott’s presence here is a complete mystery (he adds nothing to the song, his voice is trapped in his less-compelling upper range and makes him sound like Brett Eldredge with a head cold…and he’s supposed to be the guy supplying the star power?! What, was Tucker Beathard unavailable?). The leering and objectification of 2012 have been removed, but otherwise this is a bad copy of a bad trend that was stale eight years ago, and it reeks of laziness and unoriginality. With any luck, this is the last time I’ll ever have to deal with these Dylans.

Rating: 3/10. Get that garbage outta here!

HunterGirl, “Ain’t About You”

Nice try HunterGirl, but my mind is made up.

Hunter Wolkonowski, known professionally as HunterGirl, is a Tennessee native who turned a runner-up finish on American Idol into a record deal with 19 Recordings/BMG, but really hasn’t made any noise on the radio until now. “Ain’t About You” is an interesting tale that’s supposed to motivate you to keep pursuing your dreams even when you think they will never come true, and it does make a good point about not comparing yourself to other who get their lucky break when you’re still waiting for your chance (and it deserves props for calling for a space where girls can see their inner beauty reflected and boys can show emotion). However, its primary point, as the hook declares, is that maybe “it ain’t about you”: Someone somewhere might need what you have to offer, and that justifies the whole struggle. I disagree 100%: At the end of the day, you should do what makes you happy and fulfilled, and while filling someone else’s cup is admirable, making yourself and your life miserable in the process is neither ideal nor sustainable. (This is part of the reason I’m dropping my regular schedule here: Other people may love what you do, but if you don’t love what you do, it’s time to move on.)

All that said, I definitely hear some potential in this performance. I like the simple acoustic foundation that conveys a sense of seriousness about the topic, and how the mix starts with a softer touch (especially on the percussion side) and slowly builds momentum as the song progresses. HunterGirl does a nice job in the narrator’s role, and not only seems genuinely concerned that you’ll give up too soon and that you should just keep pushing towards your goals, but also has the charisma to kinda-sorta make someone (but not me) think it’s a good idea too. For all my objections to the song itself, I think HunterGirl has the power to make her own dreams come true, as long as she can find some stronger material.

Rating: 6/10. Give it a spin or two to see what you think.

Tigirlily Gold, “I Tried A Ring On”

This is what I wanted the Ex-Boyfriend/Ex-Girlfriend trend to be.

I really wasn’t impressed with “Shoot Tequila” when it dropped last year, but this song is a much better vehicle for the talent of the Slaubaugh sisters. Yes, it’s another love-gone-wrong song, but instead of feeling angry or depressed, the narrator here takes a hard, honest look at what happened, deducing that when “I tried a ring on,” they got swept up in the emotion and pageantry of being married and overlooked the fact that the relationship wasn’t really built to last. There’s no anger towards the partner or wallowing in sorrow—the speaker is simply annoyed that they let their heart overrule their head and got carried away by an idea that wasn’t grounded in reality.

Lead singer Kendra Slaubaugh takes a very neutral-but-cerebral approach to the song, and really gives you the sense that the narrator has grown from this experience and will be more careful/thoughtful the next time they find themselves in this situation. (I said “Krista Slaubaugh’s harmony work is okay and the sisters have some decent vocal chemistry” in the last review, and that’s how I feel about this track too: The voices blend together okay, but it’s not an irreplaceable performance.) The production here takes an surprising-but-effective approach to the subject: Despite the negative outcome, the instrument tones lean range from fairly bright (especially the mandolin) to pretty neutral (the acoustic and electric guitars), and there’s a spacious quality to the sound that gives the song a surprisingly spiritual feel, while the lower volume keeps the focus on the lyrics and invites the listener to reflect on what’s being discussed.

Throw in the helpful takeaway message that a flight of passion does not a relationship make, and the fact that society provides a lot of incorrect messaging to women that marriage is a culmination of a journey rather than the start of one (and thus is actually a decision that shouldn’t be rushed into), and this might actually be the best song I’ve heard from country music all year. It stands out from its competition in all the best ways, and feels like a fitting way to close out this era of music reviews.

Rating: 8/10. Might as well save the best for last.

Song Review: Hailey Whitters, “I’m In Love”

If only Nashville had listened to me for a change…

Hailey Whitters was first introduced to the airwaves in 2022 via the sleazy-sounding “Everything She Ain’t,” a Bro-Country callback that endeared her to absolutely no one. The song limped to a #17 peak after spending over a year on the charts, and she and her label ended up canning her major-label debut Raised after one single and moving on to a new EP late in 2023. If I’m honest, reviewing this thing feels like a pointless exercise, as it was officially released back in October and is only now washing up onto the fringes of the Mediabase Top 50, so I get the sense that there’s already a fork sticking out of this track. It’s really too bad, because this is a much better song than “Everything She Ain’t” and really plays to Whitters’s strengths as an artist, and while I hesitate to call it a good song, it would have made a lot better first impression on the radio than her actual debut did.

The true star of this song is the production, which uses a bluegrass-tinged arrangement to set the absolutely perfect mood for the song. An acoustic guitar and a mandolin open the track and split the melody-carrying duties, and over the course of the song the mix just keeps adding pieces: First a steel guitar, then a basic drum set (yeah, Grady Smith’s favorite clap track shows up too), then a banjo, and then the first accordion I’ve heard on the radio in a long time, and eventually an restrained-but-retro-toned electric guitar. It’s a busy arrangement, but one that never feels overwhelming (in fact, my major complaint here is that Whitters’s vocals are way too loud in the mix and tends to overshadow the sound), and the bright instrument tones blend together to create an upbeat, optimistic, almost-bubbly atmosphere that perfectly captures the euphoric, all-encompassing feeling of young love. Sure, it can all feel a bit too saccharine at times, but there’s also a real warmth to the sound that invites the listener in, and you just can’t help but smile and shake your head at the sheer positivity on display. Unlike the sour vibes of “Everything She Ain’t,” this is a mix that everything can get behind and enjoy, and it’s the reason the song leaves as positive an impression as it does.

I don’t mind Whitters as a vocalist, but going in I wasn’t sure she was the best person to cover this kind of song. Her voice brings to mind artists like Natalie Maines or Miranda Lambert, but I get some strong Sara Evans vibes from this song, and where Evans was a more polished and powerful singer, Whitters’s delivery is sharper and choppier, and doesn’t have the smooth flow that would better suit this track. However, her case for getting behind the mic this time is surprisingly compelling: The artist that I called out on “Everything She Ain’t” because “she doesn’t have the charisma to make the…argument stick” does a great job as the narrator here, primarily through (wait for it) sheer charm and charisma. She may not be the singer you would expect on a track like this, but there’s a sort of raw authenticity here and her performance is absolutely effervescent, and you can absolutely feel the romance in the air as she delivers her lines. Sometimes it’s more about how well an artist fits with the subject matter than anything else, and Whitters just seems more comfortable in the role of unabashed lover than as a shifty partner-stealer. I think the audience would have reacted a lot better to her had her debut been something like this, and it’s a shame that it wasn’t.

The writing is…well, it’s a lightweight love song with a simple “X in Y” format, so you’re not going to get a whole lot of deep meaning here, but even by those standard it feels more scattershot than it should. The edible and homey references do help set the scene around the couple, but other lines fall somewhere in the range between filler and cringe (talking about Mercury being in retrograde seems weird when apparently it’s not a great omen for relationships, referencing a deer in rut feels more than a little awkward even in a love song, and “two bottles into a bottle of wine” is just pure nonsense). There are also a couple of throwaway lines that just beg for more context and kinda-sorta make me concerned for the people in the house: Why is Dad in the doghouse? What is the sister smoking? (It reminds me a bit of Tracy Lawrence’s “Time Marches On,” but that song is supposed to be unsettling; this one isn’t.) Finally, there isn’t a ton of exploration into the narrator’s feelings: They declare that “I’m in love,” and we’re all just supposed to nod along, despite the fact that the connection seems pretty superficial up to this point (and also generic: It’s a guy! In a T-shirt and jeans! With a Chevy!). Ultimately, it’s a song that doesn’t take itself seriously and really doesn’t want us reading too deep into the lyrics—it just wants to be a conduit for the production and Whitters’s performance, and while they’re mostly able to elevate the track, it’s not enough to completely distract you from the deficiencies of the prose.

“I’m In Love” is a silly little love song, nothing more and nothing less, and for as much as I side-eye the writing and some of its choices, the production is pleasant enough to kinda-sorta paper over the problems, and Hailey Whitters is able to bring the track to some sort of positive result through the sheer force of her personality. It’s a decent song compared to what’s on the radio right now, and honestly it’s another indicator that the genre is seeing a turnaround early in 2024 after a super-rough 2023. I’m hoping this track isn’t already bound for the recurrent graveyard, but if that ship has sailed, at least Whitters went down swinging. (It’s too bad her label didn’t let her come out swinging in the first place.)

Rating: 6/10. Give this one a few listens to see how it sounds.

Song Review: Dierks Bentley, “American Girl”

It’s nice to see cover songs making a bit of a comeback. I just wish people would pick better songs to cover.

“American Girl” first appeared on the debut album of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers back in 1976, and despite not making much noise on the charts either at the time or during later re-releases, the track has become one of Petty’s most well-known and well-regarded hits. By itself this wouldn’t be enough to warrant the attention of this blog, but the song has suddenly reappeared on Mediabase’s airplay chart thanks to Dierks Bentley’s performance as part of a Petty tribute album slated to release later this year. After watching cover songs basically disappear from the genre in recent years (and get replaced by derivative plagiarism “interpolation” works that do more dishonor to the original work than anything else), it’s nice to see them make a mini-comeback in the form of tracks like Petty/Bentley’s “American Girl” and Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs’s “Fast Car.” However, I wasn’t a big fan of Combs’s Chapman cover, and while I appreciate Bentley’s attempt to put his own spin on Petty’s tune, I think I like “American Girl” even less: It’s a song that feels half-baked and even kind of pointless in a vacuum, and not something I’m terribly keen on revisiting.

Let’s go ahead and rip the band-aid off: I’m sure that Petty is a great songwriter, but this is about as badly-written a track as I’ve heard in a while. We get two scenes, one where a protagonist (“an American girl”) badly wants to see the world, and one where they’re watching traffic (presumably after seeing the world) and wondering if it was the right decision. What’s most frustrating about the writing is its complete lack of context and detail: We never get any sense of what the person’s life was before or after they set off on their journey, we never know what they saw or did along the way (or what the “promise” was that they wanted to keep), we never learn anything about the possible relationship the person walked away from (heck, we don’t even know the other person exists until the “he crept back in her memory” line springs it on us late in the second verse), and what passes for a chorus feels completely disconnected from the rest of the song (what does “take it easy, baby/make it last all night” even mean here? It’s like a random Bro-Country track was spliced into the lyrics). The story has more holes in it than Swiss cheese, and while prompting the listener to ask so many questions isn’t necessarily a bad thing, this weak effort is nowhere near interesting enough to motivate people to seek out the answers. Throw in the fact that the song is basically over before the two-minute mark (so there was plenty of room to, you know, tell an actual story and provide a few more details), and the whole mess just feels incomplete, and really needed another draft or five before heading to the studio. I’m not all that familiar with Petty’s work, but I really hope his other songs are better than this drivel.

After listening to the Heartbreakers’s original recording, it’s clear that this song was nothing more than a vehicle for the sound, which features the iconic guitar power chords that would help define the sound of the era. Bentley, however, decided to put his own spin on the production by putting some bluegrass backing behind the drums, keyboard, and electric guitars. The guitars themselves don’t quite have the tone or personality of Petty’s mix, but they have a lot more support in the form of a banjo, mandolin, and fiddle that help fill in the gaps and provide some extra seasoning for the sound. It’s an interesting approach that suits the song well (the faster tempo fits the bluegrass style, and the rolling banjo in particular stands out among the arrangement), but it’s not applied as well as it could have been: The fiddle could have used more time in the spotlight, and the mandolin tends to get lost in the mix when placed up against the guitars. Still, the mix captures all of the energy and enthusiasm of the original sound, and it does its best to sweep the listener up in the atmosphere and distract them from the disaster that is the writing. It’s cool to see an artist put their own spin on a classic, and to me, this was a risk that really paid off.

As far as Dierks Bentley goes…well, I prefer his vocals by a mile over Petty’s thinner, less-clear performance, but there’s only so much he can do when the lyrics give him so little to work with. The contrast between the potential of the first verse and the missed opportunities in the second verse require a delicate touch that reflects the shift in attitude, but Bentley’s delivery is a bit too inflexible here, sticking with his early optimistic tone even when it no longer suits the story. It also requires a Herculean effort to keep the audience engaged when the story leaves you with this many questions and not enough answers, but while he certainly sounds invested in the tale, he can’t seem to pass that interest on to his audience, and as a result no one really cares about whether or not the “American girl” regrets how their life turned out. Bentley remains as good a vocalist as you’ll find in country music, but he’s simply powerless when faced with lyrics this sparse and short, and the listener moves on long before the song ends.

“American Girl” is a surprisingly unimpressive song, with writing that feels scattershot, porous, and not at all worth hearing. Sure, the production is decent and Dierks Bentley does the best he can do with the limited lyrics, but he’s got an entire album sitting around from 2010 that features him singing and playing bluegrass music, so what’s the point of listening to this thing? (The best thing I can say is that I prefer this version to Petty’s 1976 original, which isn’t saying a whole lot.) I appreciate the effort to bring back cover songs and celebrate the work of previous artists, but when the songs you’re reviving are this mediocre, it’s really not doing anyone involved much of a service. If you’re going to revive an old classic, make sure said classic is worth reviving first.

Rating: 5/10. It’s not really worth your time.

Song Review: Beyoncé, “Texas Hold ‘Em”

Well, this is a review I never expected to write.

Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, known professionally by her first name only, has been part of the mainstream music conversation for over twenty-five years and has long been recognized as a titan of the industry, but up until now she’s only dabbled in country music, such as with her 2016 song “Daddy Lessons.” That changed this year, with her upcoming Act II album reportedly being a full-fledged country album and her latest single “Texas Hold ‘Em” already getting airplay on country radio (despite some initial resistance). Artists from other genres cross over into country music all the time (heck, we’ve got everyone from Darius Rucker to Gwen Stefani in Music City right now), but rarely does a star of this magnitude walk through the swinging doors (honestly, the best comparison I can come up with is Ray Charles’s landmark album Modern Sounds In Country And Western Music), and with Nashville stuck in a deep creative rut, where does Queen Bey’s release stack up against its competition and the genre as a whole? Well, there’s not a whole lot to the track and I think I prefer the story of “Daddy Lessons” to the lightweight (lack of) story here, but there’s just something about the execution and synergy of the components that really draws the listener in, and I think it stacks well up fairly well against this genre’s current radio offerings.

One of the interesting dynamics I’ve noticed with country music is that while artists “on the inside” can sometimes push the boundaries to incorporate elements traditionally associated with other genres, artists looking to enter the genre usually make a concerted effort to work traditional country elements into their work, anticipating the pushback they’ll receive for being “not country.” The production here is no different: It opens with a rustic banjo (courtesy of acclaimed musician Rhiannon Giddens), leaves most of the melody-carrying work to an acoustic guitar, eschews both drum sets and drum machines to build a percussion line out of stomps and shakers (some of this may still be synthetic, but it doesn’t sound like it), and even incorporates a fiddle and piano later on in the track. The instruments don’t get much opportunity to demonstrate their synergy (it seems like only one piece at a time gets to play alongside the percussion, and sometimes everything drops away but the bass), but the sound feels consistent nonetheless, and the brighter tones and faster tempo really drive the song forward and give it the energy that it needs as a dance track. It’s a mix with lot of life despite its restrained approach, and as I alluded to in my review of Stefani and Blake Shelton’s “Purple Irises,” this song feels a lot more “country” than a fair bit of its competition.

I’ll be honest here: “Daddy Lessons” is really my only exposure to Beyoncé before this track, so I can’t really talk about the image and persona that she’s built through her past work and how it accentuates or contradicts what’s happening here. (The song doesn’t really push her as a vocalist either, although she demonstrates some solid flow on the rapid-fire sections.) Still, you can get a pretty good picture of who she is through this performance alone, and I can tell where the Queen Bey nickname came from: She projects an incredible amount of both control and confidence in her delivery, like she expects to own any room she walks into. There’s a firmness to her voice that wants the person she’s talking to to stop holding back and finally take action, but she also brings a bit of playfulness to the table to pull her punch and makes her ask feel more like a request than a demand. She does a nice job drawing the listener into the song in the absence of a compelling story, and if she really wanted to dive into country music full time, I have no doubt that she could pull it off.

The lyrics are easily the weakest part of the track, as they’re not all that interesting by themselves and need a lot of help from the other parts of the song to stay afloat. The narrator here is looking for a little fun and romance, and with their partner dithering a bit and showing some reticence, they declare that “This ain’t Texas, ain’t no hold ’em” and ask their partner to let their true feelings show and join them in “a real life boogie and a real life hoedown.” There’s no backstory to set up the dynamic between the characters, the detail here is pretty scattershot (apparently they’re hiding from a tornado at some point?), and while you could pull a ‘don’t hide from the world, show your true self’ message from the track, it’s mostly buried under the dancing and other activities the speaker would like to engage in. Thankfully, the song provides a lot of hooks for the vocalist to use their charm and charisma to give it the fun vibe that it really needs, and the energy of the production helps keep things light and distracts you from the shallow writing. It could have been better, but it does what it needs to do, and sometimes that’s all you can ask for.

In the end, “Texas Hold ‘Em” is a decent foray into country music by Beyoncé, and certainly stands out among the many tracks it’s competing with for airplay. The writing isn’t anything to write home about, but the production is both a nice change of pace and a nice hat-tip to the sounds that defined the genre, and Beyoncé delivers a solid performance behind the mic that shows you exactly why she’s as highly-regarded as she is. Given how much of an uphill battle it’s been for acts like Chapel Hart and Mickey Guyton to find any traction in Nashville, I’m hoping that Queen Bey can kick down a few doors with this track and let this town know what they’ve been missing all these years. Let’s hope that this is one wake-up call Music City doesn’t miss.

Rating: 6/10. It’s worth a few spins to see what you think.

Song Review: Chris Stapleton, “Think I’m In Love With You”

Was Chris Stapleton going for ‘creepy’ on this track? Because creepy is definitely the vibe I’m getting.

Back when I started this blog, Stapleton was considered outside the mainstream as a country artist and struggled to get consistent airplay. These days, his commercial success is finally starting to catch up to his critical success, but he can still be pretty inconsistent (“Joy Of My Life” stalled out at #25 on Billboard’s airplay chart, and then “White Horse” made it to #2 and nearly broke into the Top 10 on the Hot 100), and he’s never felt like he’s reached his potential for stardom within the genre. I’ve never truly connected with Stapleton’s material, and that trend continues with “Think I’m In Love With You,” a bizarre blend of Boyfriend Country and nostalgic longing that feels far sleazier than it should and doesn’t sit well with me at all.

The production here leans into the “dangerous love” theme that Aaron Watson and pretty much nobody else has used successfully over the last few years, and unfortunately this mix doesn’t add Stapleton’s name to that list. The most notable thing here is the instrument that anchors the sound: I talk about acoustic and electric guitars a lot, but bass guitars rarely get attention on the blog (mostly thanks to my treble-heavy listening setup). The bass breaks through here, however, and it gives the song a serious groove on the low end that the other instruments (electric guitar, keyboards, a massive string section) can play off of and fill in the holes around it. (The drums are noticeably prominent in the mix as well, likely to help support the bass and let the song maintain its rhythm even when said bass gets overshadowed.) The perplexing choice, however, is just how dark of a direction they chose for this mix: The minor chords far outnumber the major ones, and and the bass’s prominence and the general neutral-to-dark instrument tones give this song an ominous feel in addition to a sensual one. It might have worked if it had support from the writing, but instead the framing of this as a long-lost romance feels makes this feel sleazy and even a bit cringey, like the narrator really needs to find something better to do with their time. As good as the groove is, it’s badly misused and feels out of place here.

Vocally, Stapleton falls into the trap that Jake Owen is forever getting himself caught in: He’s a talented vocalist with charisma to burn, but he’s a little too good at filling the narrator’s shoes and emphasizes their negative personality traits without bringing his own positive qualities to the performance. Of course, the song does him no favors by keeping him trapped in his lower register and forcing him to keep the volume low, giving him few opportunities to show off the vocal power that is his calling card (he gets one incoherent scream where you have no idea what he’s saying, and that’s it). He delivers a lot of sensuality in his performance (something most artists in this genre seem completely incapable of doing) and the tension that underlies his restrained performance gives you the sense that there’s some serious passion bubbling underneath the surface, but he leans a bit too far in that direction, and instead of sounding enthralled and romantic, he just sounds super horny, as if the physical attraction was all that was driving him (despite the fact that the writing desperately tries to say that this is real love, right down to the hook). Stapleton’s talents are badly misapplied and squandered here, and the relationship here ends up feeling shallow and unimportant as a result.

Despite all the earlier negativity, I think the writing might actually be the worst part of this song. For one thing, there’s barely enough lyrics here for it to qualify as a song: We get a verse, a verse/bridge hybrid, and no less than four complete rounds of an uninspiring chorus to fill the rest of the time. The framing here is awful: The narrator has decided that they would like to continue a long-lost romance long after the statute of limitations has passed, declares “I think I’m in love with you” in a way that feels too sudden to be believable (as if they just woke up one day and decided they wanted to do this), and spends the rest of the song proclaiming that this person actually means everything to them (like any good Boyfriend country singer) and whining about not being able to do everything they want to with them (which Stapleton’s performance insinuates is mostly sexual stuff). We never actually get a sense of what the relationship was really like back in the day (was it serious, or just a fling? All we know if that the narrator didn’t take it seriously), we never get any details about the other person in the relationship or how they feel (or felt) about the narrator, and we never get a sense of how the speaker plans to make it work this time around (sure, you might “wanna make your dreams come true,” but it’s going to take a lot more than unbridled passion to make that happen). I’ve never been a fan of nostalgia-based tracks like this one, and the lack of details makes the song feel like an empty shell that the listener has to fill in with their own life experiences. I don’t know if the narrator’s former partner cares about this old relationship, but I sure as heck don’t.

“Think I’m In Love With You” is a doughnut of a song, with a lot of sugar and sprinkles on the outside and absolutely nothing at its core. With its foreboding sound, half-baked lyrics, and a misguided vocal performance from Chris Stapleton, this track sits at the uncomfortable intersection of nostalgia, sex jams, and stale Boyfriend country, none of which the audience is terribly interested in hearing. It’s a real disappointment coming from someone with Stapleton’s talent, and it makes me think that his airplay inconsistency will likely continue into the near future. Even generational vocal talents have a shelf life in Music City, and if Stapleton wants to maintain his position as the critical darling of the industry, he’ll need to do a lot better than this.

Rating: 4/10. Think I’m gonna pass on this one.

Song Review: Gwen Stefani & Blake Shelton, “Purple Irises”

Wait, lemme get this straight: Radio stations didn’t want to put Beyoncé’s “Texas Hold ‘Em” on the airwaves, but they had no issue adding this 80s-pop retread to their playlists?

Officially Gwen Stefani has never had a single on country radio before, but she’s appeared as a featured artist twice with husband Blake Shelton on “Nobody But You” and “Happy Anywhere.” In 2024, however, she’s taking the lead role, releasing “Purple Irises” as presumably the lead single for her next project (although her last actual release was a 2021 EP, and she hasn’t released a full non-Christmas album since 2016). Whether or not this song was worth dropping, however, is a tougher question: It’s a song that’s hard to read thanks to mediocre execution, and really doesn’t do a great job interesting the user in what it has to say.

The production here is the biggest surprise, especially in the wake of the Beyoncé controversy I referenced earlier. The debate over what is and isn’t “country” has been raging for decades and I tend to fall on the big-tent side of the issue (even when it leads to disasters like the Bro-Country era), but when I hear the deliberately retro-pop stylings of the synthesizers and the clean, vaguely-robotic electric guitars (along with some rougher axes in the back of the room that have more of a rock vibe to them) , “country” isn’t the first (or second, or third) genre that comes to mind. Aside from that, we get the standard offerings: An acoustic guitar helps open the song and provides some background support, a clean, sharp-sounding drum set anchors the mix, and that’s basically it. The brighter instrument tones and echoey audio effects are a confounding element, as they overwhelm even the regular minor chords to give the song an upbeat, energetic vibe that clashes badly with the writing (the narrator’s anxiety struggles to break through the noise) and leaves the listener confused about how the song is actually trying to make them feel. I think that a restrained approach that put the lyrics first would have been the better play here, because as it is I’m just not sure what this song really wants to be.

To Stefani’s credit, I think she does a better job reflecting the unease within the writing than the producer does, but she gets overwhelmed by the sound (especially on the bridge) and fails to make the narrator’s tale compelling in any way. I’m not really familiar with Stefani’s earlier work with No Doubt or as a solo artist, but despite being in her mid-fifties her vocals sound really impressive here, and although she’s caught between the lyrics and the production, I think she makes an honest effort to try to stay true to the intent of the writing. That said, an honest effort and a successful one are two very different things, and while she certainly seems concerned about the long-term prospects of her relationship, she’s fighting against a sound that gets top billing in the recording, and just can’t get the audience to share in her feelings. (As for Shelton, his role here is pretty minimal—his harmony is replaceable and nothing to write home about, and his lines during the second verse don’t actually say that much and are stretched to the limit to fill the available space.) I’ve certainly heard worse turns behind the mic than Stefani’s, but I’ve also heard a lot of better performances too.

If I had to describe the lyrics in one word..honestly, I’m not sure which one I would use: Anxiety? Insecurity? In the narrator’s words, “overthinking”? The speaker here is confronting the passage of time in the context of a long-term relationship, and they’re concerned that time will make them less attractive and lead to their partner deciding to leave them for someone else (in fact, they’re not quite certain why their partner came around in the first place). It’s a broadly-relatable idea and not a bad concept for a song, but the execution here is lacking: There are moments where lines feel far too short for the rhythm, the hyper-focus on the problem makes the narrator feel over-the-top and even a little whiny, and the frequent floral metaphors do not fit the song at all. The “purple irises” hook doesn’t seem to have any connection to the topic at all (after ten minutes of Google searching, it seems that the color and type of flower here could signify just about anything), and trying to force this theme into the track leads to nonsensical lines like “blooming into the change” and “leaving love stains.” We do get a glimpse of the partner’s point of view from Shelton’s lines, but it’s pretty short and generic, and doesn’t offer the perspective that both the narrator and the listener really need. It simply doesn’t convince the audience to truly care about the protagonist’s plight, and when it’s paired with such an ill-fitting sound, the message just can’t break through.

“Purple Irises” is yet another example of a song that can’t quite figure what it wants to be, and thus ends up being nothing at all. Pairing pensive lyrics with a danceable beat that drowns out whatever Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton are trying to do leaves you with a song that’s pulling you in two different directions, and failing to make much of a point as a result. I think there’s a kernel of a good idea here that could have been built upon with better execution, but as it is it’s just kind of a mess that fails to leave much of an impression on the listener. Stefani and Shelton might be the genre’s premier power couple right now, but they’ll need to release better material than this to keep that title long-term.

Rating: 5/10. Don’t waste your time looking for this one.

Song Review: Dan + Shay, “Bigger Houses”

Wait…has country music realized that it might actually have something to say?

2023 was a rotten year for mainstream country overall, but it felt like their was a slight uptick near the end of the year, as the Ex-Boyfriend movement started losing steam and other trends rose up to challenge it (the whole Rebel Without A Cause trend is okay, the Plagiarism trend not so much). The genre seems a bit unsettled right now, and artists seem to be experimenting with different ideas (such as—gasp!—stepping back from the beer/truck meta) to see where the next big hit will come from. In some cases, this means adding a bit more depth and meaning to their material, and while it’s still early, I get the sense that the idea is starting to catch on. Case in point: Dan + Shay, the poster children of the Boyfriend country era (and an act that’s felt a bit directionless since then), chose to pivot from their super-slick, pop-tinged presentation and release the title track from their Bigger Houses album as its second single. Yes, “Bigger Houses” is a bit lightweight and far from groundbreaking, but its steps towards thoughtfulness are a notable step above what they’ve been dumping on us to date, and I’m curious to see if this signals a bigger shift in the duo’s future direction.

The production here is notable for just how un-Dan + Shay it sounds: This is a fully acoustic arrangement featuring a guitar, mandolin, and dobro, with the latter two filling any empty space between lyrics and covering the bridge solo. There are no electric axes, no keyboards, no percussion of any sort…how in the world did Dan + Shay sneak this thing past the censors down on Music Row? (One interesting note: I have no idea who Bryan Sutton is, but the YouTube video credits him with playing every instrument on the track, which makes me think he deserve top billing along with the vocalists.) The resulting sounds feels more organic and less manufactured than their previous releases, and the calm, reflective atmosphere that it creates does a good job inviting the listener to ruminate on the subject matter. (The instrument tones are fairly neutral and there are regular minor chords included, hinting at the disappointment waiting behind the “virtues” of workaholism and consumer culture and encouraging folks to step back and take a closer look at their life goals.) It’s a significant change for the pair’s sound, and in this case I think it’s a change for the better, as the smaller arrangement doesn’t make the sound feel smaller too, and its better fit leads to a better focus on what really matters in the song. I’m not sure what convinced Dan + Shay to go this route (Dan Smyers actually has producer credits on this track), but I’d argue it was the right call.

While the sound may change, the vocals are the same: Shay Mooney handles the lead duties as always, and Smyers is limited to harmony work that is so replaceable not even Brian Kelley can tell who was behind the mic (good thing Smyers contributed on the production side, because he didn’t help much here). The big question for Mooney is this: After years of being one of the faces and voices of the Boyfriend country era, can he grow out the role of endless suitor à la Thomas Rhett and come across as a mature, experienced speaker who’s got something worthwhile to share? It’s a question that can’t be answered with a single song, but I think Mooney does a good job selling the story here. Dan + Shay have been active for over a decade now, and so Mooney has the track record to go along with his charm and charisma (on a side note, I feel like his higher voice pairs really well with this kind of acoustic, almost bluegrass-like production), and he makes the narrator’s revelations feel genuine, heartfelt, and naturally found. I wasn’t terribly fond of his romantic overtures, but he’s not bad in the role of a settled-down, seen-it-all protagonist, which is good sign for the continued success of the duo.

The writing here tries to serve as a reality check for folks running on the capital-worshipping, clout-chasing hamster wheel that modern society has become: More money and more stuff isn’t the key to happiness, and things like family can provide the sort of satisfaction that “bigger houses” can’t. It’s not exactly a new idea, and even home-based tracks like “Buy Dirt” allude to it, but it’s still an important thing to remind people about. In an era where personal branding is everything and people are actively punished for not having money, it’s far too easy to get caught up in the pursuit of money and status and projecting your “country” cred for all the world to see (a particular problem in this genre, with artists forever posturing with their beer and their trucks, while also trying to sell you said beer and trucks). It’s important to remember that “bigger houses” or a “shined up Chevy” aren’t really the point; it’s whether or not you are happy and content with where you are and where you’re going. (I appreciate the use of the shiny Chevrolet here, since it’s an item and a metaphor that most listeners will understand.) The proposed solution here is more of a traditional one (Family! Kids! Pets!), and in truth there are lots of other ways to find joy in life, even a “shined up Chevy” (the shiny ’56 Chevy in my father’s garage certainly makes him happy). The key, however, is that chasing fame and fortune just for the sake of appearing happy and successful won’t actually get you there, and you should instead identify and focus on the things in life that will. It’s a little tired and a little cheesy, but it’s still important.

If “Bigger Houses” is a signal of a change in direction for Dan + Shay, then I think I’m on board with it. With its traditional production and more-meaningful writing, you would never guess that this was a D + S song if it wasn’t given away by the solid (and identifiable) vocal performance. We’re only a month or so into the year, but I’ve heard enough surprises in my reviews thus far to wonder if something fundamental is shifting underneath Music City and the genre at large, and the powers that be have finally decided to put a little more effort into their releases, and dial back the mass-produced mediocrity that has plagued country music in recent years. I’ve been around long enough to know that a truly major shift in a positive direction is probably wishful thinking, but I suppose a guy can dream, right?

Rating: 7/10. Another good score? I’m starting to think I’m going soft on y’all.

Song Review: Tim McGraw, “One Bad Habit”

Acknowledging a problem is only useful if you actually do something to correct it.

It’s officially been thirty years since Tim McGraw leaped into the country music stratosphere with Not A Moment Too Soon, and while such longevity in a notoriously youth-oriented business is impressive, it’s been a long time since he held much influence with the genre. He hasn’t had a number one single since before the launch of this blog (2016’s “Humble And Kind”), and while he’s managed to reach the top five on the radio with recent releases like “7500 OBO” and “Standing Room Only,” the middling showings of these tracks on the Hot Country Songs chart and the Hot 100 indicate that there’s not of ton of real enthusiasm behind him anymore. Perhaps McGraw has noticed the cooling reception as well, because he’s kicked his Standing Room Only album to the curb after only one single (heck, the Poet’s Resumé EP came out just three months after the album) and is now bringing radio a new single called “One Bad Habit.” It’s the sort of song that uniquely aggravates me because it combines a self-awareness of the narrator’s problems with a lazy, uncaring attitude that doesn’t plan to do anything about them, and with its poor framing and execution, this is a less-than-stellar addition to McGraw’s own resumé.

The production here is a pretty bad fit for this song on all sorts of levels. There are no surprises in the arrangement: You’ve got your guitars, your drums, your keyboards, a steel guitar whose primary goal is to legalize the song’s use of the ‘country’ metadata tag on Spotify (to the song’s credit, it at least gets a fair bit of airtime, but it fades into the background over time as the guitars crank up the volume, and it doesn’t feel like it adds much to the sound or influences its direction), and that’s pretty much it. (Something that sounds like a string section jumps in on the first chorus, but there’s no credit for it on the YouTube video, so it may just be a soundalike synthesizer.) What really bothers me, however, is the tone of the mix: The instrument tones are neutral at best and bright at worst, and with its prominent beat and guitar solo, the overall atmosphere feels celebratory and borderline-inspirational, as if the narrator is thanking their lucky stars for getting away with what sounds like a pretty dysfunctional relationship. This doesn’t strike me a situation worth celebrating, and the fact that the sound tries to make this mess into an anthemic, arena-ready tale really rubs me the wrong way. Even if you’re stuck within the constraints of a restrictive meta, you should be able to put together a better mix than this mess.

As for McGraw, he sounds pretty comfortable delivering his lines here, and I think that’s the biggest problem I have with him. The song is not technically demanding by any stretch of the imagination, but it requires a heavy lift from the artist on the charisma side because of the song’s lyrical deficiencies (we’ll get into these a lot more a bit later). It’s all on the artist’s performance to show that the speaker not only understands the bad/awkward situation that they’ve put their partner in, but that they’re not taking advantage of their partner’s feelings, and that they at least aspire to eventually be a better version of themselves for the other person (even if they may never get there). Unfortunately, we don’t get any of that from McGraw, who just sounds happy that he hasn’t been called out or punished for his behavior, and doesn’t seem motivated at all to try to make things better. It’s not a good look for a guy who should know better than this, and it leaves this entire track in a real bind.

All right, let’s figure out just what makes the writing so darn bad here. The narrator self-identifies as your typical country bad boy who drinks too much, stays out all night, and generally makes life hard on their partner, who is supposedly the perfect person save for their taste in significant others. We’ve gotten lots of these kind of songs over the years (the Outlaw movement in particular was known for talking about the women who stuck with the singer despite their antics), so what makes this one so bad? I have two major issues with it:

• The song is very open about how the narrator’s bad habits are negatively impacting the relationship (the speaker openly admits “I couldn’t blame her if she wanted to [leave]”), which is great, but knowing that there’s a problem and actually doing something about it are two very different things. Usually with songs like this, there’s a sense of improvement on the part of the narrator: Either they want to be a better person to hold up their end of the relationship bargain, or the partner is somehow ‘saving’ the narrator with their presence and love (often with a heavy dose of religious imagery thrown in). There’s nothing like that here: The speaker is happy/relieved about the fact that they haven’t been dumped, and plans to keep pressing their luck and “hope she never breaks [the habit]”. Heck, we don’t get any idea at all about how the partner feels about all this; their perspective is considered unimportant and ignored. I get some serious flashbacks to Adam Craig’s awful “Just A Phase,” and that doesn’t make me happy.
• I’m also really bothered by the way the relationship is framed as an “addiction,” all the way to the “one bad habit” title/hook (which is honestly pretty weak anyway). Someone who’s addicted to drugs, alcohol, or smoking doesn’t perform these behaviors because they want to—they do it because they have to, despite the significant damage and negative consequences that arise. If you’re telling me that your partner is addicted to you, you’re admitting that you’re bad for them and that this relationship will eventually lead them to intense pain and suffering…and if you’re saying that and then telling me you’re just going to let things ride and take advantage of the situation, you’re not saying much for your character or your likeability. (Statements like “She could put me down like a cigarette if she wanted to” are also laughably absurd, because if it’s truly an addiction, giving it up is never that simple or easy.)

It’s this combination of knowing this a bad situation for the other person, knowing that they are powerless to break away from it, and doing nothing to change it themselves that really irritates me, because if you wouldn’t do everything you could to get your partner to stop performing a self-destructive act, I question whether you have any feelings for them at all.

“One Bad Habit” is a misguided track that’s missing some key ingredients (especially empathy) that has made similar tracks work in the past, and as a result it’s not that interesting or pleasant to listen to. With its ill-fitting production, self-centered lyrics, and a just-kind-of-here performance from Tim McGraw, this is a song that tells its story in the worst way imaginable, and doesn’t give us a reason to form an emotional attachment to the characters. It’s a notable misstep from an artist who can’t afford to make too many of them at this stage of their career, because the radio is not addicted to McGraw anymore, and they will let him go in a heartbeat if they aren’t impressed.

Rating: 4/10. Hard pass.

Song Review: Zach Top, “Sounds Like The Radio”

I tend to be a writing-focused reviewer, but this is the most interesting sound vs. subject matter battle I’ve seen in a while.

Zach Top is a Washington native and a rare transplant from the bluegrass scene who signed with the recently-formed record label Leo33 last fall to become its flagship (and thus far only) artist. Top bills himself as an old-school country artist with a decidedly neotraditional sound, and he stuck to that motif when his radio debut “Sounds Like The Radio” was released earlier this month (a song that decidedly does not sound anything like the radio right now). The song is intended to be an ode to 90s country and while it succeeds in that regard, something (namely the writing) feels a bit off about this track, forcing the other pieces of the track to step up and carry the load. Thankfully, the execution on this track is top-notch and able to paper over any issues in the lyrics by sweeping you up in its atmosphere.

Let’s start with the production, which is so spot-on that I wonder if they actually used some 90s-era recording equipment to capture the instruments. You’ve got the rollicking guitar, the long-forgotten fiddle, the steel guitar tuned the way it was done in the 90s when they want to imitate the Hank Sr.-era sound, the tinkling piano, the placeholder drum set that stayed in the background and just kept time, the line-dancing tempo, and the bright and positive tone that permeated the big hits of the era. The fiddle and steel guitar get a bunch of screen time to help balance out the electric guitar, and everything is able to come together without stepping on each other or creating an indistinguishable wall of noise (I’m starting to think that it’s the loud rock-tinged power chords from the electric axes that create these things on most songs, because here the guitar is quieter and more active, joining the party instead of trying to overwhelm it). There isn’t a whole lot to say here: This wouldn’t sound out of place on most any 90s-era country record, and if you enjoy music from that era, you’ll really like this sound.

For his part, Top sounds like a long-lost voice from 90s radio himself (he reminds me a little bit of Ty England and Kevin Sharp), and does a nice job capturing the spirit of the classic feel-good tracks of the time. The song isn’t super challenging from a technical standpoint (although Top is able to climb the ladder into his upper range without much trouble), but Top’s clear, effervescent delivery and easy charm do a nice job selling the story to the audience, and the listener not only believes that Top is indeed a neotraditional country fan, but they’re able to share in the joy he exudes. As unimpressed as I am with the writing here (more on that later), it gives him license to be unapologetically happy about something he loves, and you can really feel the passion for the music in his performance. It’s a pretty solid showing overall, and one that makes me excited to hear what other songs he’s got up his sleeve.

The writing is where things fall a little flat for me. The narrator here bills themselves as the ultimate 90s country fan, with a mullet, a pickup, and a love for all things Alan Jackson. My biggest issue with the lyrics is just how rough and rudimentary they sound: They’re frequently stretching syllables to fill up space, they include some seriously awkward lines (“I came out crying Chattahoochee”? “Hook a speaker up to my soul, it sounds like the radio”?), the “sounds like the radio” hook is not witty, interesting, or tied back into the rest of the track very well, and its strategic/overdone references (Alan Jackson! Joe Diffie! Mullets!) makes the song feel a bit hollow, like it’s trying to connect with/pander to 90s country fans on a superficial level, but doesn’t have a whole lot to say beyond that. (Could this narrator tell you who Ty England or Kevin Sharp were? Top’s sales job tries to convince you that they can, but I have my doubts.) It’s got a serious “Baby’s First Country Song” feel to it, and really needed a few more drafts to tighten the bolts and fix the leaks. That said, it’s an effective vehicle for a singer like Top to channel his feels: It’s a feel-good party song at its core, but it’s not an excuse to ignore someone’s problems like a lot of the Bro-Country/Cobronavirus drivel we keep getting shoved in our faces. Instead, it’s a genuine (if surface-level) celebration of a golden era in country music and nothing else, and thus gives you a guilt-free reason to smile. It’s not terrible, but it feels a lot weaker than it should be, and while the other parts of the song are strong enough to elevate the writing anyway, it shouldn’t have had to put the onus on them in the first place.

In the end, I think “Sounds Like The Radio” falls under the Russell Dickerson clause for me: It’s a fun song that doesn’t try to be much else, and while the writing is underwhelming, the spot-on 90s production impression and a decent turn behind the mic from Zach Top are enough to fill the holes and cover the imperfections. I’m very interested to see how this performs on the radio, because it’s embracing a throwback sound (and thus thumbing its nose at the current meta) like nothing else on the radio right now, and if listeners respond favorably, perhaps other Music Row heavyweights will take notice and start pulling the genre out of the Ex-Boyfriend/Plagiarism morass that we’re stuck in now. With any luck, “Sounds Like The Radio” might make the radio sound a little more like it before long.

Rating: 7/10. Don’t look now, but we’ve been getting some decent review scores to kick off 2024…

Song Review: Kyle Akers, “Woomy Problem”

It’s time for me to take some of my own medicine.

When you’re in the music reviewing business, you occasionally get comments from annoyed readers who argue that a critic has no standing to call out a song or an artist because they’ve never made music themselves. It’s a bogus argument that makes zero sense in any context you put it in (are people not allowed to analyze football if they’ve never stepped on a field, or critique politicians if they’ve never held office themselves?), but in my case, it doesn’t apply: I’ve made more than a little music myself over the years, and I’ve got the audio to prove it.

I recently reached the 1,000 subscriber milestone on YouTube, and while trying to decide what to do to celebrate it, I stumbled on the idea to remake my first ever video on the platform (an audio-only rendition of “Woomy Problem,” a 2017 parody of Midland’s “Drinkin’ Problem”) into a proper music video that covered the highlights of my YouTube work. As I revisited the track, however, I realized that putting my critic’s cap on and giving “Woomy Problem” the review treatment would make for an interesting exercise as well. I’ve called out a number of artists here at the Korner for their substandard work, so it only seems fair to make Kyle the musician face the wrath of Kyle the critic as well. (Also, in this current era of plagiarism—sorry, “interpolation”—discussing a parody like this one certainly fits the moment.) So how did the song fare? …Well, let’s just say I recommend that Kyle not quit his day job anytime soon.

Let’s start with the production, which starts with a confession: I could never actually get any of the other members of the band to record anything with me (did the recording process intimidate them, or did they just not want to be associated with me? I never dared ask), so the arrangement here is almost entirely synthetic, featuring a single acoustic guitar backed by a bunch of Garageband loops. This leads to the two biggest problems with the mix:

• As cool as Garageband and its associated Jam Packs are, sometimes you simply can’t find a suitable soundfont to replicate a crucial instrument in the arrangement. That’s the case with the steel guitar in “Drinkin’ Problem”: It’s a key element of the sound in the original song, but “Woomy Problem” ended up having to settle for an amplified dobro covering the bridge solo. It fills the space, sure, but it just isn’t the same. Even when you can find a suitable replacement, such as with the electric guitar, it still sounds more fake than it should.
• The overall sound of “Woomy Problem” is a lot simpler and less layered than its source material, and thus the sound lacks the richness and fullness of “Drinkin’ Problem.” There are a lot of little riffs and tones from “Drinkin’ Problem” that have been omitted in the parody (in fact, certain instruments like the piano are left out entirely), and it makes this mix feel less sonically satisfying as a result.

Now, it’s not all bad here: I think the acoustic guitar that anchors the track sounds pretty good (especially given the terrible mic setup I was using at the time), the overall atmosphere still captures the melancholy and resignation of the original sound (thankfully, the writing still justifies such a vibe), and you can at least recognize what song I was trying to mimic. Still, overall it’s a pretty rough recording that just screams “first demo,” and probably could have used a bit more work to fill in the gaps.

I honestly have no idea how to describe my voice (I tend to call it “Kermit the Frog with a pack-a-day smoking habit”), but saying that I’m not Mark Wystrach is perhaps the understatement of the century. I don’t hate my voice the way that I used to, but its limitations are painfully apparent here: I fall a bit off-key anytime I try to go too low in my vocal range, and without the harmony vocals for support, my voice can get kind of thin in its upper range as well. However, I really like the clarity of the vocals, I think the narrator feels believable here as someone who’s dealing with a quasi-addiction to a video game and struggling to kick the habit (although I hesitate to say that it actually makes the listener care about the plight), and I really like how well the melody and harmony vocals blend together on the chorus (and the Inkling voice clip fits the mood and fills the “drinkin'” space better than it has any right to). Frankly, even with my vocal limitations, I think I sound better than some of the blog’s biggest villains (I won’t name any names, but you all know who I’m talking about), but I’d also say that I’m not quite ready for the radio, at least on this track.

I’ve never considered myself a songwriter, and while I’ve produced a decent composition here and there over the years, this is clearly not one of them. For one thing, it’s really not that original: Roughly half of the lyrics here are pulled directly from “Drinkin’ Problem,” with only a few lines and the hook adjusted to change it from a tear-in-my-beer heartbreak song to a song about a gamer who can’t break away from Splatoon. Most of the “original” lines are just plays on the original text, although there are a couple of decent additions here (“if you need to find me, you won’t need Echolocator” has always been a favorite of mine, even though we haven’t seen that special since Splatoon 2 arrived). I’ve called it a “parody” a couple of times in this post, but despite the absurdity of the premise this doesn’t come across as a silly, Weird-Al-esque song. Instead, it falls into the no-man’s land between silly and serious songs, and if you’re not an avid and self-aware gamer, it likely won’t resonate with you. I’ll still take it over a generic Ex-Boyfriend track, but it’s nowhere near ready for primetime.

In the end, while I enjoyed putting together “Woomy Problem” back in the day, it’s not a song I return to the way I do some of my other recordings, and it’s not a track I would actively seek out, especially when the song that it’s based on is so much better. The production is simple and synthetic-sounding, the vocals are weak and limited, and the writing is barely changed enough from the original to warrant a songwriting credit (and doesn’t tell any more compelling of a story). If I were a station program director, would I put this thing on the airwaves? No, although some of the follow-up songs I put together might make the cut. In a weird way, this underscores the importance of the song: It was a step towards making better songs with better production, better vocals, and occasionally even better lyrics (though none of those tracks have yet seen the light of day). It’s that progression towards becoming a better artist that’s important (and something that I don’t see from mainstream artists a whole lot these days), and if a song like this can be a stepping stone on the path to something greater, then I suppose it’s done its job.

Rating: 4/10. Despite that attempt at an uplifting ending, I’d still skip this one.