Single/Video Review: "September" by Corb Lund

Songwriter: Corb Lund

Corb Lund is a successful singer-songwriter from Canada that most Americans have probably never heard of. I have frequently heard his name thrown around and remember seeing a few of his music videos on CMT back in the days of my youth, but I have never given one of his albums a thorough listen. "September" is such a beautifully haunting song, however, that I am more than persuaded to purchase his latest album, Cabin Fever, and embark on that musical journey.

"September" plays upon the classic theme of country-boy-pining-for-city-girl (in this case, a country girl who who decides to become a city girl), but it contains a melancholy and a desolation that plumbs deep below surface cliches and allows the listener to really feel the anguish and pain buried in the narrator's heart. He, the struggling cattle farmer staying behind, she, the woman he loves moving to New York City to perhaps chase a long held dream. In a way, he can't really blame her for leaving. In the quiet country "there ain't much to do," "there ain't much glamor," and "the pace is kinda slow," after all. But he is certain that no one in New York City could need her as much as he does. "Stay with me through September," he begs.

He's also certain that she is going to regret trading the wide open country for the cramped and crowded city; well, maybe not certain, but pretty damn sure, or at least he's telling himself she'll miss this way of life just to ease a little bit of the pain. There is more than a little sarcasm in the line:

I can picture how you're livin'
In a tiny fourth floor flat
Well there's times that a thousand acres and the Rocky Mountains 
Can't compete with that

Imbedded in Lund's delivery of the line is sadness mixed with an almost have-it-your-way disbelief.

My favorite part of the song is the part without words, where Lund sings "oooos" with an emotional heft that betrays an immense and piercing loneliness, as if singing the very siren song of the relationship in just those few notes. It sounds like a mix between Chris Martin's (of Coldplay) falsetto and a modern twist on a high and lonesome yodel, echoing in the valleys of the mountains he sings about, conjuring up the image of a man standing by himself in a vast and wide open space. Totally free but utterly trapped. It makes the loneliness of the narrator more than palpable. How fitting that loneliness in real life often leaves us struggling to express the feeling in words.

Regarding the music video for "September," this, my friends, is how you make one. It intersperses grand images of mountains with close-ups of Lund's face and the sadness and bitterness and regret that is written all over it (his "acting" in the video makes me think he has probably lived this song). Toward the end of the clip, when the only person we've seen thus far is Lund, we see a woman walking around, presumably a ghost of the love that is long gone away. Her memory will forever inhabit the mind of the one she left as well as the hills and valleys that she once called home with him. The video is directed by Trevor Smith with an eye for both the beauty and bleakness of nature and with a perfect understanding of the emotional journey of this heartbroken cattle farmer.

It's not often that a piece of music and its accompanying video compliment one another so seamlessly, but with "September" the case is made not only for the power of authentically sad country music, but for the relevance of music videos in the modern musical era, when music channels rarely play them anymore. It's indeed one of the most beautiful songs of the year accompanied by the most beautiful music video of the year, a video that helps one delve deeper into the emotional heart of the song.

I can't wait to dive into Cabin Fever.

10/10

Single Review: "Creepin'" - Eric Church

Songwriters: Eric Church and Marv Green

The lead-off track from Eric Church's 2011 album Chief starts with what is probably my favorite lyric on the whole record:

Like a honeybee beatin' on my screen door 
I got a little buzz and my head is sore
From my bed I can feel the sun
Lord 'round here the mornin' comes
Just a-creepin'

Apparently, the night before was a bit of a long one, and the sun isn't doing much to help the situation. "Creepin'," to place it under a genre umbrella for simplicity's sake, is certainly a rocker, but there is a really sweet banjo lick that comes in during the first few seconds of the song that sounds cooler and meaner than any banjo lick Keith Urban or Rascal Flatts has recorded, and it compliments the "honeybee" line quite nicely as it just sort of buzzes around in all its resonating honey-starved glory.

The song is about the inability of the narrator to get over a former flame; her memory keeps "creepin'" up on him, and a byproduct of her departure is that he can feel the lonely and hear the crazy just a-creepin'. He's on the brink of breaking down and he reaches for the bottle in hopes to forget. But the bottle, in classic Haggardian fashion, only brings back more of her memory, only magnifies the pain:  

Head to the future, run from the past
Hide from the mirror, live in a glass
What dreams forget the whiskey remembers
Kinda like molasses in late December
Just a-creepin'

Most people can relate to having the painful memory of a past love follow them around unrelentingly, and just when you think it's let you alone, there it comes to haunt you again. The lyrics to "Creepin'" certainly convey that pain, but the song's generally loud and upbeat nature and the subtle splashes of lyrical humor--while not necessarily sending out blue-sky vibes of positivity and hopeful rays of sunshine--at the very least suggest that eventually everything will be alright. That is, unless he simply chooses to live with strong drink and his ex's memory as constant companions, which, in the narrator's own pounding head, might seem to suit him just fine as long as there's a good sad song ringing out from the jukebox.

The production here is crystal, and as I've mentioned about the entirety of Chief previously on this blog, the drums truly sound excellent on "Creepin'" (the snare actually sounds angry). Here's to hoping Church continues his rise in popularity at country radio, as his presence fills a void that would otherwise just contain more same-sounding sentimental country-pop. Two back to back number one singles with "Drink In My Hand" and the mega-hit "Springsteen" would almost surely seem to indicate that continued trajectory. Though I didn't understand (much less appreciate) Church and his appeal at first, it has since become quite clear to me that he's about as good and different as mainstream country music gets right now.
  
Score: 9/10

*this review edited and expanded from a review on this blog from late 2011 found here

Here's an interview of Church talking about "Creepin'" backstage at the Grand Ole Opry.

Rolling Stone premiered the dark and--well, a little creepy--music video for "Creepin'" yesterday, along with an interview where Church discusses the song and video, his five CMA nominations, and Levon Helm, among other things. An excerpt:

The "memory train" line ["Thought I found my way out of this pain/ Only to find your memory train"] is really about this guy who's haunted by a ghost of some sort; she's the main female character. What you don't know is she's the one feeding the coal that makes this train get crazier and go farther and take him back through all these memories. It looks like we're robbing the train but we're stopping the train.

Single Review: "Pontoon" - Little Big Town

Songwriters: Barry Dean, Natalie Hembry, Luke Laird

If there is a group (or singer) currently on country radio that is more deserving of releasing a mindlessly fun, pandering summer song than Little Big Town, please let me know and provide support for your answer. You can't: there is no answer but Little Big Town.

It might come as a surprise, but for all the years this group has been around, they have yet to have one of their singles peak at number one. The closest they've gotten is when "Bring It On Home," an emotional ballad from their platinum album The Road to Here, peaked at number four in September of 2006. "Little White Church," from their most recent album The Reason Why, peaked at number six in October of 2010 (I had high hopes radio had once again embraced LBT after this song performed well. Alas, subsequent singles from this album were colossal duds). And for as ubiquitous as the song "Boondocks" seemed during the latter half of 2005 and the beginning of 2006, it barely cracked the top ten, reaching only nine on the charts. "Boondocks." NINE. It seems hard to believe. I don't pretend to understand.

So you can hardly blame them for releasing a single that some are calling a "step down" in quality for the most resilient group in mainstream country music. But I wouldn't call it a step down. I would call it doing what needs to be done in hopes of garnering radio play, and hopefully their first number one hit. If this is what it takes for radio programmers to think twice about playing "Need You Now" for the trillionth damn time, I am all for it. And when a summer song is as fun and tongue-and-cheeky as "Pontoon," it doesn't hurt either. And that's exactly what "Pontoon" is: a damn fun song.

For anyone who's ever taken a weekend trip to the lake, the images are familiar: backing your hitch into the water, koozies, coolers, barbecue, and inner tubes. It's not even about partying hard and getting all recreational: "Who said anything about skiing?/ Floating is all I wanna do." It's about relaxing, being lazy, partying "in slow motion." Beer, of course, is a must, and I can forgive their lack of discretion in beer preference: "Reach your hand down into the cooler/ Don't drink it if the mountains aren't blue" (Miller Lite > Coor's Light all day long, people). Even the pace and feel of the song is slow and lazy. The summer heat is palpable. Mandolin, electric, guitar and slowly-chugging-along percussion do a great job of complimenting the care-free lyrics. Karen Fairchild assumes lead vocal duties on the track, and her sexy rasp suits it just right. Lightening the mood of the song even more is the line you can't help but chuckle at, "Out here in the open/ Mmm-motorboatin'," which works as a bit of a double entendre recalling the glory that was the 2005 movie Wedding Crashers. It would have been a stroke of genius had they been able to get Vince Vaughn to make a cameo in the video.

In the end, it's nice to take the "I'm serious about real country music" hat off once in awhile, and simply enjoy a song that just makes you want to sit in the sun with your friends and have a beer (which is a characteristic of a lot of good country songs, if I recall). Also: roll down the windows in your car. They may lean a little more toward pop on the music pendulum (though not nearly as much as some "country" artists), but there is no denying the talent of each member in Little Big Town. When country-pop is done as well as this group has proven it can be done, I have no problem with radio programmers making room for it on their playlists. "Pontoon" is currently sitting at number thirty-six on the country singles chart and steadily moving up.

So take off your serious hat as you get on the boat, please. Or simply leave it on. We can all still have a good time.

Rating: 7.5/10

Update (9/6): "Pontoon" hit number one this past week, a first for Little Big Town. Congrats!

Update (11/3): "Pontoon" won the CMA Award for Single of the Year a couple nights ago. Little Big Town also won the award for Vocal Group of the Year, an honor that's been a long time coming. For my thoughts on the 2012 CMA ceremony and spectacle, click here.

Single Review: "Springsteen" by Eric Church

 Upon hearing the opening notes of piano and the singer's firm but softly lilting vocal delivery at the beginning of "Springsteen," one would be hard-pressed to identify this as an Eric Church song--especially if the songs you are most familiar with are his most recent singles, country-rockers "Drink In My Hand" and "Homeboy." But it speaks to Church's artistry and confidence that he can come out with a single that is different from anything else we've heard from him, or anything else on country radio for that matter. And for as simple a song as "Springsteen" seems, it comes as a surprise that we haven't heard anything like it before in mainstream country music.

It's a song about life and love, particularly the good times both seem to offer in that innocent span of years in high school. It of course references (rather cleverly, I might add) several of The Boss' most beloved songs, but even if you aren't familiar with any of them, it's a song that has the ability to take you back. Additionally, as with any song worth a listen (much less extensive radio play) that is able to conjure up such heartfelt emotional nostalgia, "Springsteen" is tinged with a touch of the melancholic. On the one hand, it makes you feel good because it's a song easily associated with good memories: first loves, illegal beer-drinking, feeling like king of the road when first obtaining your driver's license. On the other hand, there is a sadness in the fact that the unworried and unhurried days of our youth, and the way we felt back then, have all but disappeared. In a way, "Springsteen" is a song about disappointment with the real world and holding out hope of finding something to latch on to that can make it not so often feel like such a letdown.

Lyrically, the rhyming scheme Church employs is just right: not too simple and not too complex (much like the song itself, making its universal appeal that much greater), and perfectly matching the song's feeling. My favorite line is:

Baby is it Spring or is it Summer?
The guitar sound or or the beat of that drummer
You hear sometimes late at night
On your radio

There are several rhymes throughout the song that are just as pleasing to the ear. It is terribly easy to sing along with. It's the beat of the drummer that drives this song, though, producing a marvelous and crisp sound (especially with the snare), which is the case throughout Chief, the album from which this single comes. Nowadays it is a pleasant and welcome surprise to hear a song on the radio that has not been to over-compression hell and back.

As mentioned earlier, "Springsteen" is a song that doesn't seem to fit Eric Church's badass country-rocker persona (which he, I will admit, has helped to propagate). But a quick read or listen-to of a number of interviews Church has given shows him to obviously be intelligent and well-versed in country music's traditions as well as the state of country music today. He also comes off as likeable and seems to have his priorities in line, both involving music and otherwise. Taking all of that into account, as well listening to other songs throughout his discography which display a softer, more introspective side, "Springsteen" doesn't seem like too far of a stretch.

Ultimately, it is a song about the power of music. "To this day when I hear that song..."; "Funny how a melody sounds like a memory"; and "...like the soundtrack to a July Saturday night" are just a few musical references included, not to mention the very obvious fact that the song is named after one of the living legends in music today. Music of all kinds has been a powerful force in my life since as early as I can remember. Even songs that don't try to, no matter if you have or haven't heard them before, have that uncanny ability to transport you to a specific moment in time, to a happening in your life that might have otherwise been pushed back to the recesses of your mind.

"Springsteen" is a glorious testament to the fact that Eric Church understands music to be a powerful and emotional force rather than a commercial and formulaic one. In the musical atmosphere of country radio, such an understanding feels like a minor miracle. With Church, music's power is more than just lip service, and with "Springsteen," he does a service to fans of music everywhere, helping us to understand that though we are struggling human beings living in an insane and real world, music has the power to keep us young in spirit and at heart, which may just--in the long run--not only help us to find our way, but help us to survive.

Funny how a melody sounds like a memory, indeed.

Update (11/3): Eric Church's album Chief, from which "Springsteen" was released, won a well-deserved CMA for Album of the Year a couple nights ago. You can read my thoughts on the 2012 CMA ceremony and spectacle by clicking here.