How to put it? I would listen to this man sing about IBS. I would listen to him sing a long-form denunciation of my inherent value as a human being – possibly my mother’s and little sister’s, too. Chris Young’s baritone is like the aural incarnation of warm fuzzies, and most everything it touches/fuzzes goes down easy – even those lame, creaky-hinged Music Row assembly songs scattered across Young’s first two albums.
So, granted: This single was probably going to sound all sexy-cool no matter what. Happily, though, we can all enjoy with a little less cognitive dissonance this time, because “Tomorrow” makes a serious play at substance. Young is finally a radio star now, and he’s using his powers to inject some actual psychological complication back into the format.