Well, I guess this explains why David Lee Murphy is still hanging around.
When “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” hit the airwaves last year, my first thought was simple: Why? Murphy had been silent for fourteen years after a brief run of success around the turn of the millennium—what had possessed him to jump back the young man’s game of mainstream radio at nearly sixty years old? Murphy blamed Kenny Chesney and I blamed money, but the singer offers a third reason on No Zip Code‘s second single “I Won’t Be Sorry”: He didn’t want to be asking himself “what if?” when the Grim Reaper finally came for his soul. The track is a “live life to the fullest” anthem with a serious edge to it, and as nervous as I was in the wake of his last (and lifeless) single, I have to admit, I’m not sorry he did this one either.
On an instrument level, this is an extreme example of the guitar-and-drum paradigm you hear all the time in country music. If you listen hard enough, there’s an acoustic guitar and an organ buried deep in the background, but from the opening riff to the extended outro, this song is all about rough-edged guitars and hard-hitting drums. However, for such a sparse, generic arrangement, it’s amazing how distinct the producer manages to make this song sound. The rock-tinged guitars have more bite than I’ve heard in quite a while (and they rock harder the longer the song goes, concluding with that impressive outro), and the entire mix has a real defiance to it, as if it’s raising a sonic middle finger to those who question the narrator’s lifestyle. With the lyrics themselves not featuring a ton of attitude (or originality, but more on that later), it’s the production that really gives the song its unapologetic vibe, accentuating the writing more than complementing it. I’ve given Kenny Chesney has fair share of grief on the years (including on the Murphy-cowritten “Bar At The End Of The World”), but he and Buddy Cannon deserve some props for taking off-the-shelf components and creating something unique with them.
Murphy is not the strongest singer in the world (especially at this stage of his career), but he’s got just enough juice left to stick the landing here. The key is that the song doesn’t demand a whole lot from him technically: Neither his range nor flow are tested, and while he’s never had a ton of vocal power (he’s always felt dialed-back whenever I hear him), the song doesn’t ask for much of that either. Instead, all the song requires of the artists is investment and attitude, and even deep into his sixth decade, Murphy has enough charisma to bring the goods here. Much like Aaron Watson in “Run Wild Horses,” you can feel Murphy strain to deliver his lines with purpose, which adds an extra feel of authenticity to the performance. He sells the song to his audience and allows them to share in his defiance, and that’s all you can ask of an artist of any age.
The lyrics are easily the weakest portion of the song, as they’re little more than a collection of repetitive clichés. The words may change with every line, but they all say roughly the same thing: The narrator isn’t going to regret the things he didn’t do—instead, he’s going to do them with a vengeance until the day he kicks the bucket. Not only does the song never budge from this point, but it repeats the point in all the overused ways you’d expect: Ships that sail, glories that blaze, candles that burn at both ends, sidelines that house the timid souls…frankly, it’s about as generically-written as a song could ever be. While Murphy and Chesney/Cannon deserve credit for elevating the song beyond its boring roots into something more poignant, you can only go so far with a song this run-of-the-mill, and it makes you wonder how far the song could have gone if the writers had been a bit more creative.
Thankfully, there’s at least a little meta-commentary to chew on here. After being AWOL for over a decade, jumping back into the rigamarole of Nashville and making another go at a mainstream career is exactly the sort of behavior the narrator is calling for. The odds were definitely stacked against Murphy and there were a lot of doubters (myself included), but by practicing what he preaches here, Murphy was able to find both a second wind and a second #1 song (albeit a terrible one). While it may cause others to view his musical legacy less positively, at least he can go to bed knowing the “what if” question has been answered.
All in all, “I Won’t Be Sorry” is a pleasant and unexpected surprise from a singer I thought should have let sleeping dogs lie. With his newfound “nothing ventured, nothing gained” attitude, David Lee Murphy delivers a solid performance with decent production that builds on his momentum from “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright.” While it’s got no chance of appearing on my “best song” list, I can certainly appreciate its presence on today’s radio.
Rating: 6/10. Give this one a shot and see what you think.