Song Review: "7 & 7" - Turnpike Troubadours

How do I find that old familiar feeling?
The one that carried me so many years ago
When fun was Domino's and 7-Up and Seagram's
Things were different then, just moving nice a slow

I am late to the Turnpike Troubadours party, and I'm pretty pissed off about it.

How I just now came across this great band's songs in only the past few days is beyond me. They recently released a new album titled Goodbye Normal Street, but my introduction to the Troubadours came about two weeks ago when I listened to their second album, the wonderfully titled Diamonds & Gasoline, on Spotify. (I have since purchased the album, so worry not, constant purveyors of music consumer integrity.) I could spend several paragraphs writing about that album, but seeing as how this is a song review, I will get right to talking about a song I still cannot quit playing from Diamonds & Gasoline called "7 & 7."

The title "7 & 7" probably conjures up several of the same images for most people (read: copious bottles of alcohol, perhaps a few people passed out on the floor), but in this song it represents something that we lose as we grow older, what the narrator calls "that old familiar feeling, the one that carried me so many years ago, when fun was Domino's and 7-Up and Seagram's." So, right away we have a song that contains more intelligence in the tip of it's pinky finger than what one might find in many of today's most popular country radio songs.

Musically speaking, the song is played, sung, and produced to perfection, but the homespun poetic sensibility of the lyrics is what really jumps out at the listener. The entire song revolves around the short and straight-to-the-point chorus, when the narrator states and repeats, "I had no clue I'd be the boy who your mama warned you about." Every other lyric in the song should be taken as if this line was the root from which it grew. We are being told a story about the dissolution of a relationship. At the very least, whatever the details are of what happened, the narrator feels guilty about it to the point where even if it wasn't all his fault, he still thinks it was.

The song starts with a simple statement that any guy who's ever been in love can relate to:

Back when you
Well, when you were my darlin'
I didn't mind to lose a little sleep

It's even more so relatable if you think back to when you were 17--which later in the song we find out is around the time when the narrator called this girl his darlin'--when it's your first love and you think perhaps that you might love this girl forever (and let's be honest, a little piece of you always will). You stay over at her parents' house too late, you talk on the phone deep into the night, or you simply can't sleep because you cannot escape the thought of her.

In the second verse the narrator sees this old flame at the supermarket with her now husband and child, looking like a "picture of strength and grace and beauty," and probably happier with a family of her own than she ever was with him. And then comes the best part of the song, which is a great character-defining moment:

I know 'hello' would surely end up awkward
I never had a knack for talking anyway
And you're not the kind for bending over backward
I smile and turn my shopping cart around and walk away

In the third and final verse the narrator comes to a self-realization of sorts, and bleak as it may be, it is also liberating:

Ain't it strange how well I knew you back when I was 17
Loving you was easy, babe, but I was just a child
These days you ain't nothing, just an interstate daydream...

It really emphasizes the point that change in a person is inevitable, especially in those years between the late teens and throughout the twenties. And as we grow older, our perspective on love changes, too; it used to be "easy" because it was young and there wasn't yet an adult mind occupying your skull that was filled with second-guessing and distrust and the possibility of pain. It is a song about growing up, about becoming a man. Not in the "I'm so tough that nothing can hurt me" kind of way, but in the way of simply recognizing human nature (i.e. our striking ability to at times become what we despise the most), accepting the past as past (yet still, in some ways, present), and coming to terms with the reality and the ramifications of breaking hearts and getting yours broken.

As I mentioned earlier, the musical talent on display in "7 & 7" provides a perfectly made bed for these lyrics to lay in. In particular, there is is some ferocious electric guitar picking that is reminiscent of Brad Paisley (I'm sure there is a better comparison, but he's the first that pops into mind) if Paisley wasn't so content with the soulless showing off that many of his songs contain. Also, the fiddle shows up just the right amount, doing what it does best and imbuing this mid- to up-tempo song with longing and an ache of melancholy that many emotional ballads would be hard up to rival.

Most impressive, I think, is lead singer Evan Felker's vocal, which contains a rich, twangy soulfulness that comes nowhere close to broaching cheesy territory. I imagine it is what Mike Cooley of Drive-By Truckers fame would sound like if he sang a little higher, was a little bit younger, and didn't sound like he smokes ten packs of cigarettes a day. (To be sure, I think Mike Cooley has one of the best voices out there.) The way Felker can wrap his voice around a phrase is effortlessly emotive and nuanced, something unique in a day and age when vocal bombast is consistently praised and rewarded on shows like American Idol and The Voice. More than half of the best singers in the world would probably never be recognized on those shows. Felker surely would not.

In the end, I'm endlessly thankful for bands like Turnpike Troubadours who are making catchy, memorable, and intelligent country music in the modern age. It's a shame that bands like this probably have no chance at radio, because I feel they would garner a lot of listener support. For now, I'm content with listening to the Troubadours on my iPod connected to my car CD player's auxiliary jack or accompanied by some good headphones.

Beyond this song and the album from which it hails, I've got two other albums of theirs to purchase and listen to. When it's a band of this caliber, that's money well spent.

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.

Country Singles: "So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore" by Alan Jackson and "Whiskey and You" by Julie Roberts

Two of the best singles currently released to country radio probably, and unfortunately, will not make a dent on the charts: Alan Jackson's "So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore" and Julie Roberts' "Whiskey and You." I am admittedly more familiar with Jackson's song, but when I heard "Whiskey and You" a couple days ago, I couldn't help but be struck by the similarities between the two. They both are slow ballads, they both are unflinchingly heartbreaking, and they both represent the best of what honest country music can be. Unfortunately, to release songs with those attributes nowadays risks the chance of radio programmers hesitating, or simply refusing, to spin your record. I am all for happy tunes that offer a bit of escapism and make you feel good, but I also think you need a good dose of sadness and reality to balance it out. And put quite simply, heartbreak ain't what's popular.

Written by Jay Knowles and Adam Wright (Jackson's nephew), "So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore" is a beautifully written ballad on par with some of Jackson's best ballads released to radio, including "Remember When," "Monday Morning Church," and "Sissy's Song." It is certainly his best single since his Good Time album. In the song, the heartbroken narrator tells his ex-lover that he'll be "the SOB" and the "bad guy" if that's what she needs to get over him a little easier. Not much background is given about the relationship, which is a good thing because it makes the song somewhat more ambiguous, a word that can hardly be used to describe most country singles. We don't outright know whose fault the demise of the relationship was, though the willingness of the narrator to take blame may lead one to believe it was the fault of the one he's saying those things to. At the same time, why does he feel the need to take all the blame in order to help her move on? There is something less obvious going on here.

What is abundantly clear is that, no matter the details lacking in the story, the emotional weight of the song is piercing and true, mostly due to a stunning vocal from Jackson; if you didn't know better, listening to him sing this song, you'd be worried about the guy. He is accompanied beautifully by understated production that includes piano and acoustic guitar played gently as if they just might break, and a steel guitar ride that, when paired with Jackson's vocal, will nearly bring a man to tears. The harmonies on the chorus bring it all home:

I will keep all those memories
Of the good times
Yea, they were some good times
So when you think of you and me
They won't even cross your mind

As if I haven't praised Jackson's vocal performance enough, there is a moment in the song where it sounds as if he is on the edge of breaking down. He sings:

If you need me to make your cry
I don't want to but I'll try
So you don't have to love me anymore

The moment is magically rendered in the video (around the 3:20 mark), as Jackson makes split-second eye contact with the camera as he sings, then looks down and away briefly, only to glance back up at the camera as his close-up image fades into an image of his darkened silhouette walking away from the scene of a fair. The moment perfectly captures the resigned and helpless sadness that can pervade the slow dissolution of a long relationship.

"So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore" currently sits and #35 on the country singles chart, and Jackson hasn't cracked the top 15 since his Good Time album. Granted, his last few single releases have been less than stellar, but if radio will still play George Strait to number one (even with some sub-par single choices himself; the best single he's released in recent years has been "Living For The Night" from Twang), there is no reason the same can't be said for Jackson.

With "So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore," Jackson has surely taken a risk, but at the same time he has released one of the best singles of his enduring and consistent career. And for that, Mr. Jackson deserves accolades galore.

***UPDATE: As of today, June 23rd, the song has reached number 25 on the Billboard country singles chart. Color me a tad surprised. Here's to hoping it keeps climbing.

"Whiskey and You," as interpreted and sung by the gorgeous and underrated Julie Roberts, hits the same authentic and heartbreaking notes as the aforementioned Jackson song. Written by Chris Stapleton (former lead singer of the ferociously talented modern bluegrass band The Steeldrivers) and Lee Thomas Miller, Roberts' song has many of the same qualities that make Jackson's so affective: a powerful vocal performance, a steel guitar that weeps, and the theme of two people struggling to get over the demise of a relationship. Tim McGraw also sang a version of the song for his Let It Go album, and while it's good on its own merits, Roberts' interpretation conveys more emotional truth. The song starts out with eerie and lonely lyrics:

There’s a bottle on the dresser by your ring
And it’s empty so right now I don’t feel a thing
I’ll be hurtin’ when I wake up on the floor
and I’ll be over it by noon
And that’s the difference between whiskey and you

In the second verse, the narrator says "your forgiveness, that's something I can't buy," so we know she at least feels regret for what has transpired. What we are to believe she needs forgiveness for is not spelled out, and it seems too easy to assume she needs it merely because she committed that one wrong that began the downward spiral.

Roberts' strongest -- and most obvious -- asset is her voice. It sounds from a time long past in country music, but without question belongs in today's world. Raspy, twangy, and whiskey-soaked, it is a voice that is wholly unique in today's country music landscape, yet one can detect hints of some of the greats in it: Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette, Patsy Cline. Just listen to the way she sings the word "bitter" in the chorus:

One's the devil and one keeps driving me insane
At times I wonder if they ain't both the same
But one's a liar that helps her hide me from my pain
One's a long long bitter truth
And that's the difference between whiskey and you

In the context of the song, it feels wrong to call the way she sings the word "sexy," but I can think of no other descriptor. (Heartbreak can be sexy, right?) That is simply the nature of her voice, and in a song of such emotional devastation, it does not get in the way, which is something to be admired.

Best known for "Break Down Here," a monster of a single which peaked on the country singles chart at #18 in 2004, Roberts' chart success has been virtually nonexistent since then. While she hasn't had as much success as her on the charts, and certainly hasn't had a mammoth crossover single like her, radio's reluctance to play Roberts reminds in myriad ways of their recent reluctance to play LeeAnn Womack and her more traditional single output. Unfortunately, I doubt "Whiskey and You" will rectify such an omission. I can't remember the last sad song about whiskey I heard on the radio.

I am not so cynical as a lot of country music fans when it comes to country radio -- there is some good stuff that gets played and there is some utter crap -- and I've long ago learned how to appreciate an otherwise stupid song superficially. I'm the first one to admit that peoples' tastes in music are wholly subjective. Everyone loves something, everyone thinks something sucks, and everyone thinks they are right. But it is a true shame that songs like "So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore" and "Whiskey and You" have such a small chance at reaching a wider audience with the help of radio. There should be room for all forms of country music on country radio, from country-pop to stone cold traditional, from let's-all-get-drunk-and-have-fun party anthems to she-left-me-and-I-feel-like-I-want-to-kill-myself pit of despair songs. Country music is many things nowadays, and whether you like it or not, that's just how it is. But hopefully one day, room will once again be made in the wide spectrum of the country radio landscape for songs like the two I've written about above. Hopefully, country radio once again will make room for sad songs sung by somebody other than the Zac Brown Band (whom I love), or the sad songs churned out by the overproduction factories in Nashville that over-compress and overload on standard instrumentation so that just enough of that real and depressing sting is taken away. That sting is too big a part of country music's heart to simply be forgotten.

If either "So You Don't Have To Love Me Anymore" or "Whiskey and You" have any sort of chart success, it will certainly be a step in the right direction.

My Favorite Song of 2011...

...is "The Valley Wind" by Tyler Ramsey (a Youtube clip of the song is at the end of this post). Ramsey plays guitar for Band of Horses to pay the bills and writes songs for his own solo records during his time away from the band. I've only heard his latest album, which goes by the same name as my favorite song on that album, The Valley Wind. It's a beautiful, textured, grower of a record, but "The Valley Wind" is especially noteworthy for a number of reasons. To begin with, it's one of the most emotionally resonant songs I've ever heard. The melody doesn't seem like much at first, only a few quiet strums on the electric guitar. But the more times you listen to it the more your realize how effective those understated strums are; the melody ingrains itself into your bones, giving it the power to lull you to sleep or water your eyes, both of which it has done to me. On several nights I put this song on repeat before I went to bed and I'd be passed out by the second or third spin. The percussion is quiet and crisp except for the forceful (yet still restrained, it seems) clap of a phenomenal-sounding snare drum on the downbeat. Ramsey's best musical asset, however, is his voice. Certainly it's ethereal, near heavenly, but it's more than that; it's almost other-worldly, as if an alien from some far off planet were singing, and I mean that in the best possible way. He's got a superb voice, and though otherworldly as it may be, the lyrical themes Ramsey touches on are deeply and in the best ways human.

The song's themes run the gamut, but the main idea I think is a universal one: life is short, so don't wait too long to start living it. The refrain of Am I gonna wait 'til it's gone? seems to be the narrator telling himself "Life is genuinely short, I could die at any moment, I need to stop screwing around." Several themes are touched upon, the first being drunken nights and friendship; He's been trying to keep up with his friends again, now someone's gotta stay and take care of him; Am I the one? It looks like I'm the one. Life escapes us if we spend too much of it in dangerously inebriated states; sure, we say it's all in the name of fun, but a lot of times it's all in the name of escaping our boring lives. The second verse carries with it themes of suffering, moving on, and fresh starts, and the metaphor and "payoff" lyric are hugely liberating: Someone left the stove on in the house too long, now we can warm our hands from the front lawn; At least we know it's time for moving on. That last part is such a comforting thought. Maybe your house hasn't burned down, but there are things in life sometimes that we just have to move on from and get past, whether it be something tragic or something that is holding us back in general. And when drastic events occur it can help along that process, and sometimes the drastic event is nothing more than epiphany. Something about the second line in the verse haunts me too. I picture late winter, a farm family who has just lost everything gathered in front of their burning house staying warm off each other's heat and the thieving flames. It's just great imagery.

The third verse touches again on the theme of friendship: And I can see the lights of an ambulance, and the sirens coming over on the valley wind, oh please tell me it's not another friend. In the ten years since I've graduated high school, it's amazing to me to the number of people I knew then and before who have died. You never get used to hearing it, and the number's only going to rise the older you get -- that is reality. The last verse took a few listens to click, but once it did the truth of it brought chills over me. It hits on one of the main themes of the song, death, and builds upon the previous verse: Someone's gotta number with a name on it, somebody's gotta go when that numbers picked, and it's enough to break you heart. There's not much to say about that other than the obvious: we all are going to die. The heartbreak comes streaming in full force when it's somebody whose life was cut short, or when it's someone who lived their life under an umbrella of fear, or when it's someone who lived their life at the mercy of an addiction. It reminds me of a quote by Wendell Berry from his novel Jayber Crow, spoken by the narrator Mr. Crow himself: "To love the world as much even as I could love it would be suffering also, for I would fail. And yet all the good I know is in this, that a man might so love this world that it would break his heart."

Fitting with the name of the song, there is a rural quality to it that makes me think it'd be a great song (and album) to listen to while driving through the mountains. Rather, if you close your eyes and listen, you can almost picture yourself floating above them. Certainly, one can picture a song like this being written in a one-windowed cabin overlooking a valley in the Appalachians, writer rising early to watch the mist ascend and the sun's light begin to peak through the fading dark of night, the smell of coffee-soaked wood and mountain air from a crack in the window thick over the room, nameless and numberless birds chirping and echoing to themselves and to the world, yet a profound stillness at the heart of all creation permeating everything, making possible deep city-less solitude; and in this midst, pen touches paper.




Favorites Songs of 2011 - Complete List:
25) "The Scientist" - Willie Nelson
24) "If It Hadn't Been For You" - Foster & Lloyd
23) "All The Shine" - Childish Gambino
22) "Pumped Up Kicks" - Foster The People
21) "The Fight" - Eli Young Band
20) "A Man Don't Have To Die" - Brad Paisley
19) "Cartoon Gold" - Drive-By Truckers
18) "Hard Out Here" - Hayes Carll
17) "Barton Hollow" - The Civil Wars
16) "Bastard Child" - Hellbound Glory
15) "Ray's Automatic Weapon" - Drive-By Truckers
14) "Fire and Dynamite" - Drew Holcomb and The Neighbors
13) "Million Dollar Bill" - Dawes
12) "I'm Gettin' Stoned" - Eric Church
11) "How About You" - Ryan Beaver
10) "Violin" - Amos Lee
9) "Jubilation Day" - Steve Martin & Steep Canyon Rangers
8) "Creepin'" - Eric Church
7) "If I Wanted Someone" - Dawes
6) "Promises, Promises" - Incubus
5) "Neon" - Chris Young
4) "Flower" - Amos Lee
3) "Victory" - Trampled By Turtles
2) "Codeine" - Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit
1) "The Valley Wind" - Tyler Ramsey

Top 11 of '11 (part two)

5) "Neon" - Chris Young - (written by Shane McAnally, Josh Osborne, and Trevor Rosen) - A superb "drown your sorrows in the bottom of a bottle" drinkin' song and probably my favorite mainstream country song of 2011. Chris Young, along with Easton Corbin, has one of the best voices on country radio today, and as long as programmers continue to play neo-traditional artists like him there will always be reason to hope that one day the Nashville powers-that-be will realize the market for authentic country music is still out there, and maybe the Nickelback-knock-off-rock on country radio will begin its (hopefully) steady decline. "Neon" is a song Chris Young was meant to sing. The verses have the narrator listing the wide array colors one finds in the natural word: The sky in Cheyenne, Wyoming is just about as blue as it gets, and if you ain't seen a Santa Fe sunset you ain't seen red. Sure, creation is beautiful and awe-inspiring, but in it the narrator's favorite color is not contained: Neon, the light they always leave on, a weekend on the rocks and an old school jukebox with a little Johnny Lee on, the buzz I love to be on. The last lyric of the chorus tell the listener that strong drink, as it so often does in country songs, has become the narrator's salvation: Put a double on your troubles, the light at this end of the tunnel is neon. It's a clever lyric that says all you really need to know about the themes of the song. If Young's label doesn't release this as a single in 2012, it will be a country music travesty.

4) "Flower" - Amos Lee - (written by Amos Lee) -"Flower" is my favorite song on Lee's 2011 album Mission Bell, and possibly my favorite songs he's ever recorded. It's soulful, catchy, emotional, and hopeful, revolving around the lyric My heart is a flower, that blooms every hour, I believe in the power of love. On paper it comes across as just another romantic sentiment, but Lee's vocal brings passion and meaning to it; he sings it with conviction, and when he sings you listen and believe. Obviously, the song is about belief in the power of love to emerge victorious over all things, helping us stay true to ourselves and our paths in life despite challenging circumstances as well as everything that comes along with self-doubt, namely fear: I'm gonna reach on up over that fear, whenever I'm alone won't you please be near, I know that darkness before the dawn, tomorrow's comin' and yesterday's gone. It's a simple but powerful image touching on human desires that are universal; everyone has heard it before, but again, Lee truly makes you believe it. Considering my affinity for romantic imagery and bodies of water, it comes as no surprise that my favorite lyric in the song is: I'm gonna get my baby and head upstream, fall asleep in her arms and drift away in a dream. The instrumentation includes acoustic guitar, piano, organ, a little steel guitar (I'm pretty sure I hear it, but maybe I just want to), and wonderful sounding percussion that somehow gives the song more soul. Ultimately, the it's a celebration about what is good, and in so being, is a celebration of the song itself. The linked video above is to an absolutely stellar live version from Bonaroo.

3) "Victory" - Trampled By Turtles - (lyrics by Dave Simonett, music by TBT) -The album this song comes from, Palomino, was released in 2010, but the song (or at least the video) was released in January of 2011 so I'm cheating a little bit and including it on this list. It's a fantastic and truly contemporary bluegrass tune that was perfectly captured on the recording; the sound isn't pristine by any means, yet isn't rough sounding enough to come off as a overblown. Rather, it comes off as genuinely organic. Trampled By Turtles has one of the fastest banjo players I've ever seen (see video or live versions of "Wait So Long"), but "Victory" is a much more reflective and somber tune (though his unique banjo-playing style is still a highlight). Mix excellent musicianship with poetic lyrics about love and loss, life and death, and this is the result. From the longing sentiment of the opening lines (All of us lonely, it ain't a sin, to want something better than the shape you're in) to the imagery of the last verse (Grown from a moment and a million miles, here lies the stardust and it slowly dies; Borrowed from nothing come back half alive, and the stars they whisper blessings, babe, as you walk by), "Victory" shows that Trampled By Turtles is capable of delving into heavy and hefty themes that deal with the heartbreaking realities of life. In fact, I can't think of one song from Palomino that is genuinely "uplifting" (though some of the lyrics in "Victory" are); that is, of course, unless pure, unadulterated good music from talented songwriters and musicians uplifts and inspires you. If so, this is your thing. The music video, linked above, and probably my favorite music video from 2011, is somewhat haunting and very well done. There's something hopeful about it.

2) "Codeine" - Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit - (written by Jason Isbell) - Here is the Wikipedia entry for "codeine." To sum it up, it is an opiate, a painkiller. A song written about this drug should not be so damn catchy and have one of the most singable choruses of 2011, but Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit's acoustic beauty "Codeine" is and does: One of my friends has taken her in and given her codeine. That is all the chorus says. But listen to the song once, maybe twice, and see if it doesn't get stuck in your head. Narratively, the song is about a girlfriend who doesn't come home one night; the relationship has become dysfunctional and neither party seems to be able to do anything to work it out: You oughta come home tonight but you won't, I wish we knew how to fight but we don't. So she stays gone and runs to friends whom she knows has stuff to ease the pain, not just from the relationship but from her life in general. It's a joyful sounding song with a dark subject matter and a wicked sense of humor. Jason Isbell is, in my opinion, one of the most talented Southern (he's from Alabama) and American songwriters working today. To think that the Drive-By Truckers did not explode with overwhelming popularity when he was part of that band is truly dumbfounding -- now that was a rock and roll songwriters' supergroup. Some standout lines from "Codeine" include: Darlin' I'm not one to judge, but if I was then I'd say you don't look so good (how darkly funny); If there's one thing I can't take, it's the sound that a woman makes, about five seconds after her heart begins to break (so the narrator's a pretty good guy); and finally If there's two things that I hate, it's having to cook and trying to date, busting ass all day to play "hurry up and wait" (praise be to Mr. Isbell - the simple, funny truth can be profound). Musically, the song is more acoustically-oriented and closer to country than anything the band has ever done, and it works perfectly. What brings the song home is the fiddle that's played throughout, understated and beautiful, and the female harmony vocals on the chorus (which really add to the sing-a-long quality of the song I mentioned earlier). Here We Rest, the album from which "Codeine" was released, is certainly worth picking up. It's an honest, eclectic, and at times fun mix of songs, and made many "Best Albums of 2011" lists. I can't wait to see what they put out next. (Here's a write-up I did about their song and new [at the time] video for "Alabama Pines," the lead-off track on Here We Rest.) (An aside: while the live-in-studio version of the song linked above kicks ass, it contains neither fiddle nor female harmony vocals; those are on the recorded album version.)

My favorite song from 2011 coming tomorrow.

Top 11 Songs of '11 (part one)

11) "How About You" - Ryan Beaver - (written by Ryan Beaver) - This is a heartbreakingly honest song about loneliness. The musical arrangement is, thankfully, sparse -- acoustic guitar and a beautifully played and perfectly supportive dobro -- forcing the listener to focus on the melody, lyric, vocals, and the mood they create. And the mood created is one of despair and melancholy. It's about two people who want to be each others' cure for loneliness even if only for a night. The setting is a bar, and a man conjuring up courage within himself to go over and talk to a girl who catches his eye. But he's never been the kinda man that could ever talk to a pretty thing like you. Tonight, however, he's at his breaking point: But tonight I don't give a damn, I'm at the point where I've got nothin' left to lose. A line like this is refreshing: in a world where it seems that to prove your manhood you have to show off how many girls you can talk to at the bar or bring home within a week, here is a guy who can confess that there is still something about a beautiful girl that wells up nervousness within him, causes him to lose his train of thought, to be unable to speak coherent words at all. So the fact that tonight none of that matters is significant. He's been lonely too long. He doesn't want to impress her with small talk or one-liners, he wants to appeal to her desire for comfort and connection as well; and with this honesty comes confidence, even though it may only be fleeting. Everybody's big on small talk, too scared to play their hands, caught up in lovers' games nobody understands. Why can't we just say what we really mean to? I'm lonely, how about you? If everyone was that honest there might be a lot less frustration between the sexes and a lot more understanding. Nah, that'll never happen. We're doomed to a cycle of meaningless platitudes and misunderstandings. But amongst all the sadness of "How About You" (maybe because Beaver understands it's a long shot too), the song does offer a little bit of hope.

10) "Violin" - Amos Lee - (written by Amos Lee) - I love Amos Lee. I think he is a great songwriter. But I think, with four efforts under his belt, he has yet to master the art of making a quintessential album. I always find myself discovering about three to five truly great songs within each album, while the rest I usually end up discarding. It's not that they are necessarily "bad" -- the great ones quite simply are just on another level. "Violin" is one of those great songs, released on his latest album (and the album with the best artwork, in my humble opinon) Mission Bell. And as with many great songs, its meaning is not abundantly clear; rather, it reveals itself a little more with each listen. The lyrical crux of the song is a plea of sorts: Oh God why you been hanging 'round in that old violin? While I been waiting for you to pull me through. On the surface it seems merely to be about the human experience of spiritual longing and questioning, but then you ask yourself, "Okay, so what kind of violin has God been hanging around in?" It's a line that can leave you contemplating for hours on long drives and sleepless nights. The haunting mood of the song is superbly enhanced by the ethereal background vocals of one Sam Beam of Iron and Wine fame. They are subtle, but once you realize they are there you cannot listen to the song without them standing out. He doesn't come in until a little after the 1:30 mark in the song; and he doesn't simply match Lee's words with his own harmonies, he sings the first words of each line in the second verse, beautifully holding out his last word through Lee's completion of the line. I don't know why I'm trying to explain it. Just listen.

 9) "Jubilation Day" - Steve Martin & Steep Canyon Rangers - (written by Steve Martin & Steep Canyon Rangers) - My two favorite instruments are the banjo and the pedal steel guitar, with the banjo edging out the pedal steel on most days. There is just something about the banjo that is transcendent, even within the simplest strum or plucking pattern. It can convey joy and heartbreak with equal aplomb. "Jubilation Day" has one of my favorite bluegrass banjo licks ever; it's what my ear immediately goes to whenever I hear the song, which is a humorous take on a break-up, a send-off-good-riddance-kiss-my-ass break-up song of sorts. The melody is happy, conveying "jubilation" that the relationship is over and that it really wasn't worth much in the first place. There are some funny lines, spoken by Martin over the crisp and stellar musicianship of the Steep Canyon Rangers, not to mention Martin's own wonderful five-string picking. Great lines include: In my dreams you wear a red cape and a pitchfork; I'll be over you by lunchtime; and Let's remember the good times...like when you were out of town. But Martin's humorous lyricism takes a backseat to his musical chops here. He comes up with a banjo line that you simply can't get out of your head, and not only does it convey the happiness felt from the end of a relationship that was doomed from the beginning, it somehow conveys the humor of it all as well. (What good are we if don't have senses of humor?) I'm grateful that Steve Martin is using his comedic platform to spread the gospel of the banjo, and to more generally spread the word of bluegrass music as a whole. And he's doing it with one foot rooted firmly in tradition, and the other stepping forward to continue to bring bluegrass music to the hearts and minds of the modern music listener, hopefully turning them into lovers in the process. It simply doesn't get much better than the banjo, and musically, you'd be hard-pressed to find musicians more talented than those who pick out a living in a bluegrass band. "Jubilation Day" is a great example. (Great live performance of the song on Conan here.)

 8) "Creepin'" - Eric Church - (written by Eric Church and Marv Green) - The lead-off track from Church's 2011 album Chief starts with a lyric that makes me chuckle every time: Like a honeybee beatin' on my screen door, I got a little buzz and my head is sore. Apparently, the night before was a bit of a long one, and the sun creepin' up doesn't make it much better. "Creepin'," to place it under a genre umbrella for simplicity's sake, is certainly a rocker, but there is a sweet banjo lick that comes in during the first few seconds of the song that not only sounds great but surprisingly compliments the honeybee line quite nicely; somehow, it seems the banjo is lazily buzzing. The song is a about the inability of the narrator to get over a girl; 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 heads to the bottle to forget. But it 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'. Certainly the lyrics convey pain, but the song's general upbeat and rocking nature and the subtle splashes of lyrical humor, though not sending out glorious vibes of positivity and hopeful rays of sunshine, at the very least suggest that eventually everything will be alright, unless he simply chooses to live with strong drink and her memory as his constant companions -- which would be okay as long as there's a good song in the background. The production here is crystal, and as I've already mentioned about Chief in its entirety, the drums sound phenomenal. Here's to hoping Church continues to rise in popularity; though I didn't understand, much less appreciate, him at first, he's about as real and good as country radio gets right now in my opinion.

7) "If I Wanted Someone" - Dawes - (written by Taylor Goldsmith) - After "Million Dollar Bill" it was "If I Wanted Someone" that struck me on Nothing Is Wrong, especially the wonderful chorus: If I wanted someone to clean me up I'd find myself a maid, if I wanted someone to spend my money I wouldn't need to get paid, If I wanted someone to understand me I'd have so much more to say, I want you to make the days move easy. I think that last part says so much about the heart of what we want our girlfriends or wives or significant others to truly be. Life is better when its shared with someone you love, or as Chris McCandless of Into The Wild fame wrote in the margin of one of his books, "Happiness only real when shared." Life technically doesn't become easier, but it sure starts to move like it is when you know someone is by your side, especially if that someone, to be frank, doesn't nag and spend all your hard-earned cash. I've read where people compare the sound of this song to Jackson Browne, The Band, and Neil Young, but the classic this song is most reminiscent of to me is "Mary Jane's Last Dance" by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. The guitar riff at the beginning, at the very least, seems an obvious reference to "Mary Jane." To be honest, I haven't quite figured out the meaning of all the verses in "If I Wanted Someone" because the chorus is so perfect and unapologetic and catchy, but there are some terrific and thought-provoking lines that stand out: ...the only time I'm lonely is when others are around, I just never end up knowing what to say and I took everything I thought from what it means to be a man, we need words to be put to what we do not understand. It's one of those songs where I kind of know what it means on the surface, but there's another level of depth still yet to explore. At the same time, art or a song that exists for its own sake -- rather than as fodder for over-analysis and constant excavation in hopes of finding newer and deeper and more technical meanings -- is quite often what moves us the most. Or as songwriter Goldsmith so eloquently puts it: Like the feeling of a photograph before it's meanings all got told. There is something profound about mystery. (Nice acoustic version performed in an alley.)

6) "Promises, Promises" - Incubus - (written by Brandon Boyd) - An old high school favorite of mine, Incubus returned in 2011 with the album If Not Now, When? after a five-year hiatus. I've taken an interest in everything they've put out, though I'm not as rabid as I used to be, and decided to buy their latest despite negative reviews and after hearing the song "Adolescents." Apparently, because this album didn't "rock" as much as albums past, contained melodies more easily grasped, and in general "slowed things down" a little bit, critics (and probably many fans) thought they had sold out to appeal to your average mini-van driving soccer mom. Okay. All I know is that I really enjoyed If Not Now, When? and my favorite song from it is, you guessed it, "Promises, Promises." Brandon Boyd calls it one of his first "storytelling" songs. It's about a girl who's gotten so used to putting up walls that it's become hard for her to recognize when she meets a guy with the potential for something real. Boyd explains it best (taken from previous link): "And so, I used these metaphors in the song of, like, magic, like she's an illusionist, so she creates these illusions around her. And she's gotten so good at it that she meets somebody who potentially could be someone that could help her break through those illusions and those walls, she can't really recognize that he could be the real thing, or they could be the real thing, so she's asking him for one thing: 'Don't make me any promises.' " My favorite lyric in the song is: Baby could I be the rabbit in your hat? I'd swing if you'd hand me, hand me the bat. It seems to me like this guy has her figured out, knows how and why she's been playing the games and putting up the walls, but it's up to her to give in to the possibility of a real connection and let go of what her creating of these illusions comes down to: fear and the desire for control. By the chorus it seems she does, with, as Boyd says, one condition: I'm on the road of least resistance, I'd rather give up than give in to this, so promise me only one thing would you, don't ever make me promises. What makes the song for me is the beautiful piano line played throughout (certainly different for Incubus) that only adds to the ache and longing contained in the overall melody. Add to that the fact that Brandon Boyd is one of the best, if not the best, rock singers/vocalists of modern times, and the song really is a conglomeration of many elements coming together to compliment each other and make a whole. The linked video to the song above is a flawless live studio version. And believe me when I say that the band, especially Boyd, whom I've never heard go off key, is just as good live.

Top 11 of '11 (part two) arriving soon.

My Favorite Songs of 2011 -- #25-12

25) "The Scientist" - Willie Nelson - (written by Coldplay) - (Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be so hard, oh take me back to the start) - Dare I say that I like Willie's version even better than Coldplay's? Well, I do. Maybe because it really does seem like a fresh take on the song, what with the understated strums of acoustic guitar and the beautiful brushes of steel guitar. It doesn't hurt that Willie had a catchy and gorgeous melody to start with thanks to Chris Martin and company, but Nelson's voice takes the song to another level altogether. This cover really showcases his genius at vocal phrasing. Also, his version was recorded for a collaboration with Chipotle to make consumers more aware of the importance, necessity, and overall healthiness of food that comes from local and organic farms compared to mass factory-farm produced crap that's become so convenient and addictive to me and everyone else. Add to that the continual rising number of suicides among farmers due in part to corporate takeover and exploitation, and I'd say this is a great song for a great cause.

24) "If It Hadn't Been For You" - Foster & Lloyd - (written by Radney Foster and Bill Lloyd) - (Baby I know that I am a lucky soul and a better man, I wouldn't know love the way I do, if it hadn't been for you) - One of the more serious songs on their highly anticipated comeback record (It's Already Tomorrow) after a twenty year hiatus, "If It Hadn't Been For You" is a genuine and earnest song about a woman who inspires a man to not give up on his dreams, to stop worrying, and to let their love sustain them. I think we've all met "that person" before, but for many of us the feeling just never lasted either because it wasn't meant to or both parties (or just one; unrequited love and all that) simply didn't want to put in the effort to keep at least a little flame lit in the lantern. This is how a straightforward love song should be written and delivered; well enough to make the listener believe it could actually happen.

23) "All The Shine" - Childish Gambino - (written by Donald Glover) - (I'd get you MTV if I could man, but Pitchfork only like rappers who crazy or hood man) I am a fan of rap (let me clarify: thoughtful rap) because an intelligent rapper can turn a witty phrase and strike and emotional cord within the same song. I'm a fan of clever wordplay, poetry, and connecting emotionally to songs. On the whole, rap as a genre doesn't speak the most to me, but artists like Common, Mars Ill, and Childish Gambino can be so poetic and emotionally fulfilling that even a hater of rap at least has to respect them. I first heard of Donald Glover when the television show Community first started airing. Never would I have expected him to adopt a rap persona that seems to be the complete opposite of his Troy character on the show. And maybe that's why I like and appreciate it so much. The standard rhymes about money and girls are here (it's honestly hard to tell whether or not he lives this life or if it's just easier for him to come up with funny lines about those hip hop cliches, and to Glover's credit he openly admits rapping about that stuff is stupid), but there is also something deeper and more human going on here, something at times that's brutally honest. The linked live version above is fantastic -- that guitar lick is sweet.

22) "Pumped Up Kicks" - Foster The People - (written by Mark Foster) - (All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, you better run better run faster than my bullet) - I'll be honest, I don't know all the lyrics to this song and have no idea what the song could be about. The ubiquitous song of 2011 is quite simply one of the catchiest of the year and I can't help busting a move every time I hear it...and I don't dance. It's one of those rare overplayed songs that I never got tired of. It does, however, bring new meaning to the song when you do a Google search and discover the songwriter, Mark Foster, wrote the song about isolated youth and getting into the mind of a killer. Talk about your disparity between a happy melody (one of the happiest of all time?) and bleak lyrical content. I guess it kind of makes sense, though, seeing as how the song talks about outrunning guns and bullets and what not. But honestly it will never be about that for me. For me, it's just fun.

21) "The Fight" - Eli Young Band - (written by Natalie Hemby and Tim Putnam) - (You gotta fail before you see it through, you gotta spend your last dime before you ever make a million, you gotta know what brought you here, you gotta lose to persevere, but it's the way the sun will rise through the darkest night, yea it's always been worth the fight) I got into Eli Young Band courtesy of listening to Randy Rogers Band on Pandora, before their mainstream hit "Crazy Girl" ever hit the country charts. I'm glad these guys from Texas are getting some wider recognition, and I can only hope the same for RRB's album due to be released the first half of next year. "The Fight," from Eli Young Band's 2011 release Life At Best (love that title), is my favorite song on that album. It's got a feel-good melody with an ever-so-slight hint of darkness present, and realistic yet hopeful lyrics about the road your life can take, one that often seems anything but narrow. But maybe the narrow road is a metaphor; it is hope itself, so easily let go of (sometimes without us even realizing it) and so hard to maintain. Few seem to have it, fewer seem to keep it. This song wants to change that. And it succeeds, at least for four and a half minutes. I'm rooting for this one to be the third single.

20) "A Man Don't Have To Die" - Brad Paisley - (written by Rivers Rutherford, George Teren, and Josh Thompson) - (It's a place out by the airport where the girls dance just for you, and all you feel is drunk and broke and lonely when they're through) - I have to admit that my eyes watered the very first time I heard this song. Well written and well produced, it strikes an emotional cord that is hard for your bones to resist. It is without a doubt the best and most poignant song on Paisley's latest release This Is Country Music, and if it doesn't see the light of day at country radio after the enjoyable but ultimately meaningless "Camouflage," it will be an absolute shame. Country radio needs more songs like this. It hits on the economic woes Americans have been experiencing the past few years, the reality of broken families and broken homes and how that affects the lives of all parties concerned for the foreseeable future, and it wraps itself in religious/church imagery by illustrating the desire, especially in hard times, of human beings to hear sermons at about the goodness of God and the forgiveness of Jesus rather than the guilt-whip of hellfire and brimstone, the positive over the negative, the hope over the doom, because there is enough Hell on Earth to go around...thus the crux of the song: "A man don't have to die to go to hell." I have already quoted above what is to me the song's most poignant lyric. It's a heavy dose of reality about how sometimes we often glorify things in life to the detriment of realizing that some of those very things are only serving to deepen our pain. That kind of honesty is what country music is all about.

19) "Cartoon Gold" - Drive-By Truckers - (written by Mike Cooley) - Cooley is my favorite songwriter in the Truckers, and this song is a humorously poetic beast. I don't think I'd do it any justice by saying something about it so I'll just share the lyrics with you; they're all gold, so to speak:

I'm not good with numbers
I just count on knowing when I'm high enough
A mule with only two legs counting steps toward dangling carrots don't add up
I think about you when I can and even sometimes when I can't I do
Once the driver knows you got good sense he takes away the carrots too
Getting all excited finding nothing that was never there before
Is like bringing flowers to your Mama and tracking dog shit all over the floor
Jesus made the flowers but it took a dog to make the story good
I think about you when I can and sometime when I don't I probably should
Tending bar in LA after dark must be like mining cartoon gold
Rocks that won't cooperate and tools that drive you crazy must get old
I think about you when I can and sometimes when I do I still get caught
sitting in a bar in LA after dark with my sunglasses on

Dang. Dude knows how to turn phrases, come up with creative metaphors, and be dryly hilarious all at once, all the while making it all mean something, and that something is usually profound. I read online where someone called Cooley something like the "crazy, cool uncle" of the Truckers. Yup. I love this guy. Also, the studio version has some sweet rollicking banjo in it -- check it out.

18) "Hard Out Here" - Hayes Carll - (written by Hayes Carll) - (It gets hard out here, I know it don't look it, I used to have heart but the highway took it, the game was right but the deal was crooked, oh god we're all outta beer, it gets hard out here) - I discovered this singer/songwriter from Texas this year with his latest release Kmag Yoyo (and Other American Stories) (Kmag Yoyo is a military acronym for "Kiss my ass guys, you're on your own). I actually just purchased the album recently, so I haven't given it a proper listen all the way through, but this song and lead-off track "Stomp and Holler" are stellar. There are some pretty clever lines here; Carll has a great sense of humor about life on the road. In the live version he makes it clear that he indeed does have the best job in the world, but there are certain nights that leave him wondering, perhaps, what kind of life he has chosen, and on those nights running out of beer is probably a perfectly good reason to panic. Well, running out of beer would be a good reason to panic on any night, but I digress. Another favorite line of mine: "Everybody's talkin' 'bout the shape I'm in, they say boy you ain't a poet just a drunk with a pen". I can honestly say it is an utter lie that I have never felt that way before. Oh, and if you have a sense of humor, you have GOT to check out this song and video.

17) "Barton Hollow" - The Civil Wars - (written by John Paul White and Joy Williams) - (Ain't goin' back to Barton Hollow, the devil gonna follow me where'er I go, won't do no good washin' in the water, can't no preacher man save my soul) - Oh, that the rest of the album Barton Hollow sounded like this. Not that the album is bad, I was just a little disappointed because there is nothing as upbeat as this song, and more importantly none of the other songs are as evocative and reliant as "Barton Hollow" is on the imagery of the beautifully dirty South. It's without a doubt the standout track on the record, and while I do enjoy a few of the other songs on it, none of them approach the gloriously rustic and dark majesty of this one. Comprised of John Paul White (a dead ringer for Johnny Depp) and Joy Williams (former contemporary Christian singer), The Civil Wars formed when the two met at a Nashville songwriting session and hit it off, creatively speaking. And obviously the chemistry is there. The harmonies in this song are near perfect, soaring to heights that can make a tingle run down your spine and chills rise up from your skin; it went down South to take a bath and emerged pure and organic and clean as crystal, dripping its sultry waters still. I just wish the rest of the album was.

16) "Bastard Child" - Hellbound Glory - (written by Leroy Virgil) - (Coulda done worse, shoulda done better, Mama woulda tried if the bottle ever let her, I ain't prince or a pile, ain't doin' bad for a bastard child) - I discovered this band literally within the past month, and I think they're great. Their latest album Damaged Goods is crisply produced stone-cold country without being too polished; it actually contains just enough of that rough-around-the-edges sound. The songwriting is stellar, and lead singer Leroy Virgil has a hell of a unique voice, genuine and raspy yet absolutely capable of belting it out. "Bastard Child" is the lead-off track and one of the many standouts on this short 30-minute, 10-song album. What I really love about this song is the narrator is admitting that his childhood was far from perfect, but he's certainly not one to sit around and whine and complain about it. Life's not been easy for him, but nobody said it would be (he's heard "The Scientist" before); he just lives it as it comes, appreciating the foundation the past (good and bad) has left for him, learning all the while. He takes the "credit and the blame" for all the right and wrong he's done, with no shame. And, hey, though his family life seems to have been less than ideal growing up, he still sings: I'm just thankful for my birth and for my family, or else I wouldn't be me. So it ain't all bad. If those in the world that this song describes are grateful just to be alive, those of us who grew up pretty well-off could probably learn a little something from them. We all bring damaged goods to the table.

15) "Ray's Automatic Weapon" - Drive-By Truckers (written by Patterson Hood) - (Don't want to hurt nobody, but I keep on aiming closer, don't think that I can keep it feeling like I feel) - Mike Cooley may be my favorite songwriter in Drive-By Truckers, but I think Patterson Hood is one of the finest songwriters working today, so that says a lot about what I think of this band. Hood's always been the ringleader of sorts and always brings the most songs to each album, and something about "Ray's Automatic Weapon" stands out on the Truckers latest release Go-Go Boots. The song is essentially about a man, a Vietnam veteran, who offers to watch his friend Ray's gun for him. But the darkness in him from the war is still there, and the general darkness that is part of all of our natures starts trying to overtake him, and he begins to not trust himself with the gun anymore. These things that I been shooting at are getting all too real, the narrator tells Ray. Taken from the Drive-By Truckers website, Hood says of the song, "It was inspired by a visit from a friend that day who told me a chilling tale about a couple of Vietnam vets and a very powerful gun." In this informative Youtube video Hood goes on to say that the friend, a Vietnam vet himself, "nonchalantly" and "un-dramatically" told him the story about this guy's friend who had just bought a huge gun and had showed it to him; Hood's friend became concerned about his friend having such large weaponry around the house. Hood's friend convinced the guy to let him keep it at his house, on terms that it would still be his gun, he would let him come over and get it whenever he wanted. But Hood's friend "found himself out one afternoon, kind of on ridge overlooking a highway, seeing how close he could get to cars that would go by without hitting anybody. And it kind of dawned on him that maybe he didn't need to have the gun either. So he went home and he called his friend and told him to come get the gun back." Who in the world would think of putting such a story to song but Patterson Hood. I love it.

14) "Fire and Dynamite" - Drew Holcomb and The Neighbors - (written by Drew Holcomb) - (Some people talk to angels, some people people talk to themselves, well I don't know who you're talking to, but everything you say makes me want you) - I discovered this song watching Wide Open Country on CMT one night, which is weird considering I could go as wide open as I wanted to and I still wouldn't consider this a country song. But I'm thankful I found it. It's a great rock 'n' roll love song about finding that someone you can't live without (a husband and wife duo are two members of the band, see above), and it has some killer fuzzy electric guitar work in it. It also contains one of my favorite lines in a song this year: You are a novel in a sea of magazines. It's such a simple statement that says so much. The video is also really well done; it makes the song feel like a celebration.

13) "Million Dollar Bill" - Dawes - (written by Taylor Goldsmith) - (When it hits me that she's gone, I think I'll run for president, get my face put on the million dollar bill; so when these rich men that she wants show her ways they can take care of her, I'll have found a way to be there with her still) - Dawes is yet another band I discovered this past year. Their sound is modern and vintage at the same time, reminding me most of The Band, which is a heavy comparison. This was the song that convinced me to buy their latest album Nothing Is Wrong, and when I did I don't think I even listened to the rest of the CD before listening to this one about twenty times. Essentially, the song is about a girl who has moved on from her guy, but he still loves her (and maybe always will). He is simply not the man, or the "type" of man (she's a little shallow), she wants anymore, and though she has run off, she still possesses something in her essence that makes it impossible for him to hate her. It very well could be the thought of what they had they he is still in love with. The lyrics are what stand out on the track, each verse painting an achingly hyperbolic image of what the guy will do to somehow still see her face, somehow keep him close to her: put his face on a million dollar bill, live on the moon, become a movie star. These all make sense when you listen to the song, trust me. The melody is sweet yet evokes real pain and lead singer Tayler Goldsmith's vocal may just break your heart without the help of a cold-hearted woman. And with all that said, this isn't the only song I have from Dawes on this list.

12) "I'm Gettin' Stoned" - Eric Church - (written by Eric Church, Jeff Hyde, Casey Beathard, & Jeremy Crady) - (Here's to happy ever after and here's to balls and chains, here's to all those haters of old lovers new last names, here's to holin' up and getting right where I belong, she got a rock and I'm gettin' stoned) - I didn't get Eric Church at first. It seemed he was just another wannabe outlaw blowhard proclaiming to bring back "real country music" in the vein of Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings. I listened to a song here and a song there and I just didn't get it; it all seemed like it was just more country rock. Then "Smoke A Little Smoke" came out and he used freaking Autotune, or at least some variation of it. But my "come to Jesus" turnaround came when I heard the first single from his latest release Chief earlier this year, "Homeboy" (don't worry, it'll be on on my favorite country singles list). I loved it the very first time I heard it; I thought the lyrics were clever and, strangely, for a bombastic country-rock song, it made me feel proud and even a little nostalgic. So I bought Chief, and much to my surprise I found the record to be top-notch from beginning to end; not a dud on the disc. The songwriting is humorous, clever, poignant, authentic, and poetic, and at the very heart of it, though the rock element is amped up quite a bit, it's stone-cold country music. I read some interviews with Mr. Church and began to understand what he meant; he's not trying to be Jennings or Cash, he's trying to write music closer to the spirit of the music they made and not cater to what some radio programmer thinks he wants to hear. But anyway, about the song: it's a humorous cut about a guy who hears that the girl he always thought he'd end up with got hitched. She got a rock and he's getting, well... It contains what might be my favorite line on Chief: Here's to all those haters of old lovers new last names. Clever stuff, deserving of a raised glass and a hearty AMEN, and it just sort of rolls off the tongue. There's some great acoustic and electric guitar work and the drums sound phenomenal, as they do on the entire album. Perhaps the best thing about the song is that Church sounds like he is having a blast recording it, like he, now happily married, may have some girl from the past who's bringing it out of him. There's only one thing left to say: To hell with her and him and that white horse they rode out on...

Be sure to check back in the next day or two for my top 11 of '11. I'm so clever.