We’re in that wonderful period of time where we convince ourselves that all of our 2010 coulda woulda shouldas will be transformed into 2011′s totally gonnas.
In that spirit, I submit the following blogger resolutions:
1. Daily posts, come rain, snow, or sleet sloth, indifference, or better things to do.
2. Start 100 Greatest Men. Rankings done, but oh boy, is it a lot of writing!
3. Write about the nineties, eighties, and seventies so much that readers think we’ve gone back in time.
4. Continue being diplomatic to the almost-stars of yesteryear, until they mess with Ben Foster.
5. Take being the weakest writer on my own staff as motivation to do better! I’m gunnin’ for all y’all in 2011.
2010 brought two big steps for Country Universe writers Dan Milliken and Tara Seetharam!
Dan’s musings on country music have recently been published at CMT.com. Check out his awesome rundown of this year’s reissues: The Greatest Greatest Hits of 2010. He also contributed to features on Toby Keith and Tim McGraw, selecting “Who’s That Man” as a prime Keith cut, and “Just to See You Smile” as prime McGraw.
Meanwhile, Tara has launched her own blog – TaraSeetharam.com – which features her musings on pop culture and has me secretly wishing to do guest posts on the non-country artists who populate my iPod.
Both writers are so amazing that expanded horizons are inevitable. We’re proud to have recognized their talent early on!
Earlier this year, a discussion with a colleague of mine revealed a mutual affinity for country music. It was a typical conversation that I have with fans that are around my age. We fell in love with the music about twenty years ago, don’t think it’s quite as good as it once was, but can find a lot of things to like from just about any era, including the current one.
So in the 2010 version of making a mix tape, I offered to load up her iPod with a whole bunch of country music. A week later, she took me to dinner as a thank you. We started talking about the music that I’d passed on to her, and she told me that she was listening to the iPod while mowing the lawn. Suddenly, a song came on that made her cry. Full-out cry, mind you, not just a tear or two.
So I ask if it was “Love, Me”, or maybe “Where’ve You Been”, or something similarly tragic. She was almost embarrassed as she told me that it was the old Anne Murray hit, “You Needed Me.”
Now, there are a few possible reactions to this. I suspect for many or even most, it will be either befuddlement or outright derision. But me? I totally understood why that song would have such a strong impact, and I can best describe it in one word: Sincerity.
It’s the bane of the cynic’s existence, and of many critics as well. You don’t see Anne Murray pop up on too many lists when discussing the greatest country artists of all time, or even the greatest pop-country singers of all time, even though she’s definitely both. Ditto for Kenny Rogers and my once future wife Olivia Newton-John, who also fit well into both categories.
But there are some artists who exude sincerity and still are treated with reverence, like Loretta Lynn and Alan Jackson. What makes them different? I think it’s the added perception of authenticity that differentiates them from the artists above.
Take Dolly Parton as a case study. Rare is the critic or country music historian who doesn’t speak highly of both her pre-1976 and post-1999 output, where her music was firmly grounded in her mountain roots. But her pop era – roughly 1977-1986 – is widely maligned. The sincerity is there all the way throughout her career, whether it’s delivering the brilliant working class social commentary present in both “In the Good Old Days” and “9 to 5″, or when she’s just being hopelessly maudlin, be it with “Daddy Come and Get Me” or “Me and Little Andy.”
I think that she gets less credit for that period because there’s a sense that she’s being something that she’s not, that the authenticity is lacking. When you think someone is being inauthentic in their sincerity, it’s hard for some to embrace them. I think that I’m in the minority in that I don’t care much if someone is authentic, so long as they’re sincere.
Where things fall apart for me are when I perceive authenticity without being able to sense the sincerity in the performances. This is my major issue with many of the more traditional artists today. I think Jamey Johnson, Gretchen Wilson, and Brad Paisley are completely authentic in their music. They are who they say they are, and such. But I have trouble getting into them because they don’t come off as genuinely sincere.
It’s hard to articulate this, but to use Paisley as an example, he often sounds to my ears like he’s emotionally divorced from what he’s singing. The brain is plugged in, but I don’t feel the heart. I loved, loved, loved “Letter to Me” because his voice cracked with emotion. I felt the sincerity that I don’t feel when I hear “Anything Like Me” or “Little Moments.”
Meanwhile, Carrie Underwood can rarely do wrong with me because she drips with sincerity, something that was prevalent even during her embryonic Idol days, but has really come into play with her writing so much of her material. “Change” is my favorite song she’s done so far, not just because I fully agree with the message, but that she sings it with such sincerity. Does she live out the message in her own life? I have no idea. But her performance is so powerful to my ears that it being her authentic life story is as irrelevant to me as the fact that Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon aren’t really a death row convict and a Catholic nun, respectively.
Sincerity over authenticity, if I have to choose. Both are great to have, but the former is more essential than the latter in the music that I love the most. It may be a meaningless distinction in the end, but it’s the only explanation I can come up with for me usually liking songs much better by great singers than by the original songwriters, and for Laura Bell Bundy getting so much more play on my iPod than Taylor Swift, the most genuinely authentic teen star ever. Or at least since Lesley Gore.
With that all said, how about we listen to some Anne Murray? She’s awesome.
End-of-year lists abound, and we still have another on the way. But what about the best albums of 2011?
We’re in that super cool period of anticipation, where we wonder what the albums we know about will sound like, and hope that the albums that we don’t know about will be from artists who we can’t get enough of.
Right now, the announced albums that I’m most pumped for are the 2-CD live album from Todd Snider and the new studio album from Alison Krauss, both scheduled for release in early 2011.
Among the unannounced, I’m pining for new studio albums from Dwight Yoakam and Shania Twain. Feels like a lifetime since either had a proper album of new material.
If we’re getting into pipe dreams, I’ll add a new Dixie Chicks set into the mix.
Chuck Wicks continues his career as Mark Wills 2.0 with “Old School”, a boring retread that is like “19 Somethin’” with less cleverness, energy, and personality.
That’s right. Less cleverness, energy, and personality than “19 Somethin’.”
Unless shout-outs to the Steve Miller Band that get your heart all aflutter, this is one nostalgia trip you’re better off forgetting.
My earliest Christmas memory is 1985. I was six years old, still believed in Santa Claus, and like my older sister, I was on the receiving end of plenty of gifts that I never would’ve thought to ask for.
This particular Christmas, I had asked for a cassette of Soul Kiss, of all things. I had seen a video on HBO of a song from the album, and somehow my parents were able to figure out how to get that specific tape, which I hadn’t asked for by title. So it was in my stocking. No big deal.
Then my Dad did something strange. He insisted my sister and I go back to our rooms and get dressed for the day. We were annoyed, as Christmas means pajamas until church, but after getting gifts, you don’t want to seem ungrateful.
I heard my sister scream first, all the way from her room on the top of the stairs. Somewhere along the way, Dad had sneaked into her room and set up a television. I ran up and screamed along with her, probably thinking that now we could watch TV in there together. I doubt that’s what she was thinking.
So I go and get dressed, and come back out into the living room. Everybody’s staring at me with anticipation. I’m flummoxed. “Did you see what was in your room?” I went back in. Somehow I’d missed a brand new stereo system that was right on the nightstand. Two tape decks and a record player. What could be better?
Looking back at that Christmas, I realize how those two gifts shaped the interests of my sister and me. She remains a steadfast television buff, and still watches it in her bedroom all of the time. For me, two trademarks of my personality were firmly established: my love for listening to music, and my complete obliviousness to my surroundings.
Our look back at the year’s best singles comes to a close, with unprecedented CU consensus at the top of the list. The top two singles of the year were ranked in that order by three of our four writers, and both appeared in the top ten of the fourth writer.
Here’s our ten best of 2010:
The Best Singles of 2010, Part 4: #10-#1
#10
Draw Me a Map Dierks Bentley
Bentley is getting a lot of deserved attention for sonically diverging from the mainstream to create a bluegrass-inspired album. It’s an excellent album, but to his credit, “Draw Me A Map” isn’t so far removed from some of the unreleased songs on his first two mainstream projects; It’s just that he gets to shine a finer focus on it for this album, and therefore, this seemingly subversive song for radio gets to be released. The inspired blend of Bentley’s ragged voice with Alison Krauss’ angelic one takes the song to an even sweeter level. – Leeann Ward
#9
Broken Chely Wright
Robert Louis Stevenson once remarked that “Hope lives on ignorance; open-eyed Faith is built upon a knowledge of our life, of the tyranny of circumstance and the frailty of human resolution.” He was talking, in context, about marriage. The truth is that no one enters a relationship completely free of burden, and only by submitting to the complications of that truth can we avoid being ruled by them. Wright, for her part, manages the task with simple, earnest grace, probably strengthening her relationship through mere acknowledgment of its weaknesses. – Dan Milliken
#8
Drop On By Laura Bell Bundy
Unlike the year’s other booze-induced lover’s call, “Drop On By” isn’t rooted in emotional dependency; it’s fueled by Bundy’s earthy physical longing – and what a longing that is. Proving her masterful interpretative skills, Bundy churns out a slow-burning performance that’s both deftly controlled and achingly sensual, with just a tinge of playful warmth woven through. The song’s kicker, though, is the smoky throwback arrangement – a delicious mix of blues, jazz and country – that not only fits Bundy like a glove, but pushes the boundaries of what constitutes a great country record. – Tara Seetharam
#7
Giddy On Up Laura Bell Bundy
The most interesting and surprising debut single that I can remember. So many creative and unexpected choices are made, but it is Bundy’s forceful personality that pulls it all together into something cohesive. In an era of country music that is little more than dull shades of gray, “Giddy On Up” is a Technicolor marvel. – Kevin Coyne
#6
As She’s Walking Away Zac Brown Band featuring Alan Jackson
A young man just about chickens out of approaching the radiant girl across the bar, panicking that “my heart won’t tell my mind to tell my mouth what it should say.” Luckily, Wise Older Man At Bar can see exactly what’s going on and nudges Junior into action. A bit silly, but the single radiates such warmth that you gobble it up. And if there was a more motivational moment in 2010 than Alan Jackson’s spoken “Go on, son,” well, I didn’t hear it. – DM
#5
Smoke a Little Smoke Eric Church
Church finally puts his music where his mouth is, delivering an unapologetic, roguish (for country radio, anyway) ode to escapism by intoxication. The erratic musical flow evokes the very physical sensations the song celebrates, and Church’s swagger makes bumming sound almost appealing. Turns out that if you stop talking about being a badass for long enough, you may just manage to kinda be one. – DM
#4
If I Die Young The Band Perry
“If I Die Young” arrives like a gift from an alternate universe, one where the public’s embrace of Alison Krauss, Nickel Creek, and O Brother was treated as a road map for the genre’s future, not just a passing interest that needn’t be cultivated. – KC
#3
Stuck Like Glue Sugarland
Every once and awhile, a piece of ear candy comes along that defies the term “ear candy.” That’s what “Stuck Like Glue” is, to be sure: an infectious acoustic-pop morsel, invigorated by Nettles’ insanely joyful performance and a genre-busting breakdown. But there’s something about the song that puts it on another plane. Maybe it’s the organic energy, or maybe it’s the lack of artistic inhibition. Or maybe it’s the simple fact that “Stuck Like Glue” doesn’t try to be anything that it’s not. It just is. And as a result, it’s that rare breed of song that taps into your spirit – that demands you to stop thinking, start feeling and have a damn good time. – TS
#2
Little White Church Little Big Town
It probably owes some theme to “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It),” but Little Big Town’s swampy sleeper hit is the coolest-sounding country single of the year all on its own. From handclaps to snarling electric licks, creepy whispers to gospel-esque call-and-response choruses, “Little White Church” is a potent reminder of all the creativity still bubbling under in Music City. – DM
#1
The House That Built Me Miranda Lambert
Miranda Lambert’s career defining song is also our song of the year. Not much can be said about this gorgeous ode to childhood memories that hasn’t already been said better by countless writers before me, including our very own Dan Milliken, which helps make the case for what’s inevitably the song of the year on many 2010 countdowns.
Its all-acoustic, understated arrangement underscores the story of a woman who tries to find solace in the memories buried in a structure that was more than a house. Its descriptive lyrics move us as they detail memories from turning blueprints into the family dream home to the heartbreak of losing the family dog.
As it is always is with the best songs, “The House that Built Me” does not hit us over the head with its emotional resonance. It’s strong, it’s palpable, but it’s all done with gentleness, which is the most effective way to tug at the heartstrings. – LW
Here are the ten singles that were almost the best of the year:
The Best Singles of 2010, Part 3: #20-#11
#20
Crazy Women LeAnn Rimes
Poised, calculated and ferocious all at once, Rimes’ performance captures the exact persona of the scorned “ex-wives and old girlfriends” she sings of. It’s a wiser, cooler revenge anthem than we’ve heard in awhile, and it takes the crown for the year’s most fabulous opening line: “Who’d have guessed that Aqua Net could start a fire with a single cigarette?” – Tara Seetharam
#19
What Do You Want Jerrod Niemann
A contemporary spin on the standard country theme of heartache, “What Do You Want” owes its brilliance to its perfect storm of elements: The raw honesty of Niemann’s plea (“I get so tired of living like this/I don’t have the time/Neither do my friends”). The hollow, pulsing arrangement that mirrors his cycle of pain. The killer vocal performance, soaked in emotional fatigue. Each element draws out the potency of the next, culminating in one of the most captivating releases of the year. – TS
#18
Steal You Away Randy Rogers Band
If you can say anything about Randy Rogers, it’s that he emotes somberness in every note that he sings. In this song, he is tortured by the knowledge that the object of his affection is not properly appreciated by the man that she’s currently with. More than anything, he’d like to steal her away from her loveless relationship, but moral boundaries stop him from carrying out his desire. – Leeann Ward
#17
Kiss Goodbye Little Big Town
If you love somebody, set them free. Easy to say, maybe even easy to do, but what’s left behind is empty and cold. This powerful song explores that truth with subtlety and sincerity. – Kevin Coyne
#16
Lover, Lover Jerrod Niemann
I heard Sonia Dada’s Dan Pritzker wrote this goodbye number when his real-life lover forgot to make him a pot of coffee or something. That should give you a good sense of the depth here. But a ditty like “Lover, Lover” is really only about one thing: achieving a compulsive singalong. And it gets that job done ably, even offering equal opportunity for all voice parts with its thick, stacked harmonies. – Dan Milliken
#15
Undo It Carrie Underwood
Judging from what I’ve heard people say about this song, I don’t think there’s any middle ground on this one. Either turn the radio off in disgust, or turn it up and sing along. – KC
#14
Still Tim McGraw
Memories. The very best ones are stripped of all the reality that existed in the moment. All the irks and irritations and utter banality of every day life fade away in hindsight, and all that’s left is the warm comfort of knowing that in a certain moment of time, you were there and so were they. There isn’t a reference to Christmas in “Still”, but the holidays make it feel that much more real. Achingly real. – KC
#13
Rain is a Good Thing Luke Bryan
One of the more charming frat-country hits in recent years, as Bryan celebrates how precipitation in a farm town nourishes both the crops and the spirit. Oh, and helps him get some! Yeah, bro!!! – DM
#12
Swingin’ LeAnn Rimes
It’s always a bold move to try to recapture the novelty of an already dubbed novelty song. Instead of recreating what John Anderson had already done with “Swingin’”, LeAnn Rimes wisely reinvents the tune by ramping things up up with a jaunty, high octane production that dares us to try to sit still. The result is one of the most energetic, free spirited songs of the year. – Leeann Ward
#11
Turning Home David Nail
High school nostalgia songs are typical these days, but Nail’s soars above most others with a sensitive performance that brings each little detail to life. Annoyingly loud production toward the end keeps the single from home-run territory, but unfortunately that’s pretty typical now, too. – DM
The countdown continues, with appearances by popular new artists joined by a pair of nineties veterans.
The Best Singles of 2010, Part 2: #30-#21
#30
Roll With It Easton Corbin
It’s easy to overlook Corbin’s second single as just another breezy summer tune, but it stands above the rest, thanks to its near-perfect execution. From the spirited delivery to the skillful handling of otherwise trite phrases –like the title phrase and “it won’t be no thang”— “Roll With It” makes a fresh, invigorating case for shedding everyday troubles and, well, rolling with it. – Tara Seetharam
#29
I Put My Ring Back On Mary Chapin Carpenter
“I Put My Ring Back On” is a throwback to the sounds of Mary Chapin Carpenter’s glory days on the charts. It’s catchy with a message of relational perseverance. As a result, it’s one of the two most memorable songs on her latest album. – Leeann Ward
#28
Who Are You When I’m Not Looking Blake Shelton
Blake Shelton has a strong voice, but it’s most expressive when he dials it back enough to allow the sensitivity to cut through. Exhibit A: “Who Are You When I’m Not Looking.” As one of the beautifully understated productions of the year, he loves everything that he knows about his woman, therefore, he can’t help but imagine and wonder about what he’s not seeing. – LW
#27
Put You in a Song Keith Urban
Creating hooky pieces of ear candy is one of Urban’s defining talents, and the lead single from his November release is further proof. Blessedly, it’s devoid of the distracting electronic instrumentation that has lately plagued his recordings, which makes for one of Urban’s cleanest releases in recent years. – LW
#26
American Honey Lady Antebellum
Look, I still don’t know what American honey is, and I’m guessing you don’t either. What I do know is this: Hillary Scott’s performance is layered, vulnerable and desperate – a perfect encapsulation of the wave of nostalgia that finds you in your early 20s. Coupled with the wistful melody, it’s enough to override the wacky metaphor and lift the song to one of the most poignant of the year. – TS
#25
A Father’s Love (The Only Way He Knew How) Bucky Covington
This is probably Covington’s best performance to date. The song manages to be sweet without crossing the line to sickeningly cloying. It depicts a father who shows his love through action rather than verbal affirmation, which is something that the son ultimately accepts as just as good. – LW
#24
Playing the Part Jamey Johnson
Something that Jamey Johnson isn’t afraid to do in this radio era of watered down, trite messages is expose himself as less than a perfect human being. Instead, he will sing about drug addiction (“High Cost of Living”) and depression, as we hear in this tale of disappointment that is a result of the crushing disappointment of unattained success. – LW
#23
Fearless Taylor Swift
As a single release, it was little more than an afterthought, the album of the same name having already flexed most of its world-conquering muscles. As a sort of mission-statement album track, though, “Fearless” still rocks, adeptly capturing the jitters and giddiness of young romance and sort of arguing for embracing such sensations while you can. That Swift tells herself at a certain point to “capture it, remember it” suggests she knows there’s more loneliness and disappointment on the flip-side of this one elated moment. – Dan Milliken
#22
She Won’t Be Lonely Long Clay Walker
Ringing with effortless charisma and playful sincerity, the lead single off Walker’s latest album was a welcomed reintroduction to his most beloved qualities. Interestingly, though the song serves as a tribute to his classic 90s sound, it fit snugly –and refreshingly– on country radio. – TS
#21
Only Prettier Miranda Lambert
Lambert exposes the sneaky bitchery lurking behind so much Southern sweetness. Country radio is all like, “Whaaat?” – DM
Greatness comes in twos this year, as ten different artists make dual appearances on this list. Perhaps this demonstrates a greater truth about 2010. Sure, there was some good music, but greatness was concentrated among a smaller group of artists than usual.
As is the annual tradition, we’ll reveal this year’s forty best singles, ten at a time. Check back tomorrow for Part 2.
The Best Singles of 2010, Part 1: #40-#31
#40
Why Wait Rascal Flatts
The Flatts boys return to their roots with this bright, infectious slice of country-pop. Bonus points for keeping both Gary LeVox’s voice and Dann Huff’s production in check. – Tara Seetharam
#39
That’s Important to Me Joey + Rory
So far, Joey+Rory’s calling card has been their ability to exude authenticity through their songs with a naturalness and warmth as convincingly as a certain mother-daughter duo of the eighties, The Judds. Only, unlike the Judds, this partnership’s perceived connection isn’t marred by real accounts of strife and familial discord. Instead, by all accounts, Joey and Rory’s love is as sweet as their musical harmonies suggest. And this song is a nice encapsulation of what makes them who they are as a duo, both in a personal and professional sense. – Leeann Ward
#38
Where Do I Go From You Clay Walker
Walker’s voice has matured so much over the past decade. Thankfully, he still has preserved his playful way with a melody, resulting in records like this that elevate radio fodder into something more than just filler. – Kevin John Coyne
#37
Back to December Taylor Swift
She ran from love “when fear crept into [her] mind,” but fear has long since given way to sorrowful regret. Swift knows there’s probably no reversing her mistake, but gets the grief off her chest anyway, with a chorus that sounds almost as nervous as you’d imagine the real-life plea to. – Dan Milliken
#36
Little Miss Sugarland
My disdain for the duo’s label remains strong, as their lack of quality control let a terrible album reach the marketplace. But kudos to the folks who are picking the singles, as The Incredible Machine must sound like a great piece of work to radio listeners who’ve only heard the album’s two singles. It’s not quite “What it Feels Like For a Girl”, but as modern-day post-feminist explorations of gender go, “Little Miss” is very good. – KC
#35
Pretty Good at Drinkin’ Beer Billy Currington
He ain’t cut out to sing great ballads. He’s not the type to make deep and introspective albums. But he’s pretty good – no, pretty great – at laid back songs like this. – KC
#34
Temporary Home Carrie Underwood
A story of shared humanity, brought to life by Underwood’s spot-on vocal interpretation. This is the first single in her catalog to slice through to the person behind the artist, and the payoff –striking, palpable personal conviction– is rich. – TS
#33
I’m In Keith Urban
In an unusual accomplishment, Keith Urban manages to allow a drum machine to enhance a song rather than destroy it. What’s more, this lively Radney Foster penned celebration of commitment is both infectious and refreshing. When it comes to a new relationship, we don’t know what to expect, so the best choice is to be all in and present. – LW
#32
Pray For You Jaron and The Long Road to Love
If we’re going to bring a college-boy mentality to country music – heck, Hootie’s already in the house anyway – let’s have it be as satisfyingly clever as it is juvenile. – KC
#31
From a Table Away Sunny Sweeney
Seeing the man she loves visibly enthralled by the wife he claims he’s leaving, the man’s mistress finally realizes how badly she’s being used. Sort of like “Stay” with more reserved narration. This is the kind of country single we don’t hear much anymore, with traditional-leaning vocals and production that work only enough to capture the song’s natural pathos, never overcooking things. – DM
We’re in that wonderful period of time where we convince ourselves that all of our 2010 coulda woulda shouldas will be transformed into 2011′s totally gonnas.
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