aturday Night Barn Dance is a new recurring column on contemporary country music, wherein Stylus aims to survey the landscape of the genre by briefly considering some of its more notable and/or superlative recent releases.



Rantin’ and Ravin’
I recently picked up one of the odder products of the ‘90s/early ‘00s country tribute-album boomlet: 2002’s Sharp Dressed Men: A Tribute to ZZ Top (RCA). This album was supposed to be a big ‘un—the roster here includes Brad Paisley, Kenny Chesney, Montgomery Gentry, and Alan Jackson, among others. (It pre-dates the careers of Gretchen Wilson and Big & Rich, both of whom you know would be on this album were it made today.) These Men peaked at #7 country/#81 pop (oops), but deserved a hell of a lot better. Still do.

The album kicks off with Lonestar sounding for all the world like a less-annoying Rascal Flatts, doing a good, surprisingly un-country “Gimme All Your Lovin’,” and then moves into Paisley adding his patented guitar flourishes and just-as-patented bland-out vocals to “Sharp Dressed Man”; the latter really could’ve used a more distinctive singer, though to his credit, Paisley makes the song his. We then take a hard left turn into Hank, Jr.’s medley of “Jesus Just Left Chicago” and “Waitin’ for the Bus.” Jr.’s always been a kindred spirit of the Texas trio and does a sterling job here, letting the blues in ZZ’s music just pour out of him.

That’s the way the rest of the record goes, jumbling up contempo-country covers (Brooks & Dunn’s sadly soul-sapped “Rough Boy,” Trace Adkins’ seemingly tailor-made “Legs”) with blues-drenched ones (would you believe the Warren Brothers’ “Cheap Sunglasses”?) and tossing in some twangified takes (Dwight Yoakam’s “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide”) and Texas swing (Willie Nelson’s superb “She Loves My Automobile”) for extra spice. When it comes to tackling ZZ Top, a hot-shit guitarist can get you over halfway there, but there’s that intangible—let’s call it the ZZ Factor—that’s gotta be there to really get you over the hump.

Andy Griggs, a radio non-starter in the early part of this decade, has both on his smoldering “I Need You Tonight,” while Chesney reminds us of the fire that burned so hot under him early in his career with a hot version of, no joke, “Tush.” Some of that ZZ Factor rubs off on artists who otherwise are pretty uninteresting—Phil Vassar’s sexy “I Thank You” comes as quite a surprise, as does Tracy Byrd’s “La Grange”—but that’s the magic of ZZ Top for you. They wrote some hellacious tunes, too, as this album reminds us.

Sharp Dressed Men is unfortunately out of print, but copies are easily found on the likes of eBay and half.com.
[Thomas Inskeep]

Album Reviews

John Anderson - Easy Money (Raybaw/WBR Nashville)
Shouldn’t be a huge surprise that John Rich (of Big & Rich) and Anderson are kindred spirits—Anderson’s always been a hell of a hell-raiser and still is, 30 years into his career. Turns out Rich’s all-around help—co-writing, producing, and signing Anderson to Raybaw, the label he runs with compadre Big Kenny—is just what Anderson needed to make his best album in 15 years.

It’s not without a few missteps—“Funky Country” isn’t enough of either—but most of Easy Money nails it. “Bonnie Blue,” an ode to the South co-written by Anderson and, believe it, Cowboy Troy, is a fine addition to Anderson’s pantheon of beautiful ballads (cf. “Seminole Wind”—it’s not quite that good, but it comes close), while both “If Her Lovin’ Don’t Kill Me” and the title track are excellent up-tempo, fiddle-soaked country akin to Hank, Jr.’s “That’s How They Do It in Dixie,” proof that the vets can still teach the kids a thing or two. (Kenny Chesney’d do well to take notes.) Closer “Willie’s Guitar” features guest vocals from Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard, and is reminiscent of their fine work on Last of the Breed. Anderson’s in incredible voice on each and every of these eleven tracks, and is still one of the genre’s best singers. This is one of the year’s best.
[Thomas Inskeep]


Josh Turner - Live at the Ryman (Cracker Barrel)
Hate to say it, but Cracker Barrel’s on a role lately as a record company—first the Songs of the Year comp, and now this exclusive live album from Josh Turner, who’s really starting to show himself to be of the decade’s strongest new artists. This record leaves off all of Turner’s big singles save for his debut, “Long Black Train,” so what you get are a batch of good album tracks and some even better cover versions.

His “He Stopped Loving Her Today” won’t make you forget George Jones’ original, but Turner acquits himself nicely, while “I’ll Never Get Out of This World Alive” misses Hank Williams, Sr.’s vocal hiccups but gains from Turner’s better, purer voice. Merle Haggard’s “Silver Wings” could’ve been a Turner song—which is a compliment to them both. If you’re a fan of Turner, you need this, and if you don’t know him, it’s a fine introduction to an artist as important as he’s (getting) popular.
[Thomas Inskeep]


Toby Keith - Big Dog Daddy (Show Dog Nashville)
Having made hardline machismo and unrepentant hip-shooting the hallmarks of his fame, it's a considerable shock to hear Toby Keith on the second song of his latest record, Big Dog Daddy, entreating those who would disagree with his strident views to "Love Me If You Can." Keith certainly didn't seem too worried about whether bleeding hearts were buying his records as recently as last year's pro-life guilt trip "Ain't No Right Way," but he's only continued to cede spotlight to perennial nice guys Paisley and Chesney since, and maybe the old shock 'n' awe firebrand is softening (or equivocating) with age after all.

It may sound like a faintly ridiculous suggestion considering Keith's still plying the juke joint uplift of "Hit That" and Mack Truck-subtle entendres of "High Maintenance Woman," but there are also several surprising signs that he's edging towards a Mellencamp-Springsteen-Earle style of mature populism, as evidenced by the woebegone likes of "Pump Jack" and "White Rose." Elsewhere, Keith does nothing to erode his reputation as a sensitive, resonant balladeer ("Walk It Off," "Wouldn't Wanna Be Ya"), and the record's sum effect is that of a confident statement from an assured artist decreasingly reliant on swagger.
[Josh Love]


Brad Paisley – 5th Gear (Arista)
No matter how many baby deer Brad Paisley shoots or how much mud his truck tires sling, Hollywood's B-list is his true milieu. Marrying “According to Jim” actress Kimberly Williams and subsequently becoming chummy with TV stars has only encouraged Paisley to hone his own sitcom-worthy shtick, which sprinkles in redneck signifiers like Skoal cans and moonshine but remains largely indistinguishable from small-screen fare, where the men are invariably lusty bozos and the women meddlesome shopaholics.

Surprisingly it works, thanks to Paisley's hooky charm, excellent guitar chops and perhaps the simple fact that he's competing with Rascal Flatts rather than Seinfeld. Cracking on computer nerds and holiday culture wars isn't exactly cutting edge fare, but Paisley does employ a deft comic touch from time to time, recruiting an actual marching band to play the last few bars of the dork-skewering "Online." On the other hand, his ballads continue to be dull, pious affairs, largely because Paisley's so damn facile most of the time that he can't reasonably convince as a lover or a penitent. At the very least, this record is mostly free of the condescending misogyny that plagued a good bit of Paisley's previous work, (though I won't soon forget a song from his back catalogue where I couldn't tell for the life of me whether the subject was his wife or a small child).
[Josh Love]


Jason Isbell – Sirens of the Ditch (New West)
Time will tell whether Jason Isbell picked the right time to jump ship (or be shown the plank) as a member of Dixie rock mythologists the Drive-By Truckers, who've increasingly been sacrificing their famed storytelling prowess in favor of so-so melodic hooks of late. At the very least, Isbell's departure from the group seems to have provided him either the impetus or freedom to finally bring to light his long-delayed solo debut, an excellent record that's nonetheless been in the can for a few years and hence tells us more about where this sturdy Southern man's coming from than where he's going.

Though it may prove to be a poor augur, Sirens of the Ditch is a terrific document, full of the kind of absurd and all-too-realistic narratives and vignettes that were once DBT's stock and trade. Whether he's spinning a familiar tale sprinkled with unforgettable specifics ("drinking iced tea from styrofoam cups" in the heart-rending solider's lament "Dress Blues" or "dancing to Purple Rain" in the sexually-nascent "Grown") or else fashioning his own unique grotesqueries (the deliciously twisty "Shotgun Wedding"), Isbell proves he's got the stuff for solo greatness provided his pen remains sharp.
[Josh Love]


Lori McKenna – Unglamorous (Warner Bros)
Lori McKenna has lived her entire life in the modest Massachusetts town of Stoughton, a prototypically progressive New England community that would appear to be ideological light years removed from the worldview commonly espoused by mainstream country music. Or is it? McKenna's mien is one of hard work, monogamous love, strong family ties and a cheerful gratitude for the inexpensive, unpretentious joys of life. From that perspective it seems entirely normal for even ultra-conservative Nashville star Sara Evans to cover one of McKenna's compositions ("Bible Song"), to say nothing of fence-straddlers Tim McGraw and Faith Hill (the latter of whom placed three McKenna titles on her last album).

Up to this point, the main thing separating McKenna from the stars of CMT (besides perhaps her voting record) was the former's modestly produced alt-folkie sound. Now, thanks largely to the patronage of McGraw and Hill, McKenna's on a level playing field and taking full advantage, making her hard lyrical truths both more palatable and more affecting with bright hooks and warm, full-bodied accompaniment. McKenna's enduring subject is the space between "I" and "we," between the sacrifices an individual makes for the benefit of romantic union and the necessity of wresting back that sense of self when it's in danger of being negated. McKenna's communal values may run deep, but make no mistake—this is her star turn.
[Josh Love]

Single File

The Eagles – “How Long” (ERC/Lost Highway)

In a nutshell, “Peaceful Easy Feeling” without any of its charm. Even though the Eagles played a large role in the development of country-rock in the ‘70s, this more blatantly country move feels as phony as Bon Jovi’s (or, ahem, John Waite’s)—“Well, our old fans are into country now, so….” “How Long” also feels mired in 1978, and gets more points off for so prominently featuring Glenn Frey on vocals. This is, amazingly, even worse than you might expect.
[Thomas Inskeep]


Brooks & Dunn – “Proud of the House We Built” (Arista Nashville)

This is a little clichéd in that B&D seem to have, well, built a major chunk of their career on uplift-hetero-marriage-and-the-nuclear-family songs, but when they’re as solid as this, it’s hard to fault them. Ronnie Dunn’s vocals are as assured as ever, and the lyrics include a few clever turns of phrase. Sounds great on the radio, too.
[Thomas Inskeep]


Carrie Underwood – “So Small” (Arista Nashville)

The biggest artist to hit country music since the Dixie Chicks (remember, before they became pariahs, they were huge) returns with the leadoff single from her all-important sophomore album (due in October). It’s a bit of a disappointment—while its production is appropriately widescreen, and Underwood hits a couple of money notes, “So Small” is also a somewhat pedestrian, faux-inspirational song, one that could just as easily be by Rascal Flatts. This isn’t bad by any means, but it’s (ironically enough) uninspiring, and potentially tempers some of the anticipation for Underwood’s upcoming full-length.
[Thomas Inskeep]