All Hat No Cattle

2011 AHNC Awards: Single of the Year

Karma police, because let’s face it: this song comes from a petty place, and for a minute there she loses herself, letting the mask slip, belittling her tormentor. Otherwise, like most of her songs not related to Boy Trouble, it’s a tremendous act of big-hearted spirit and generosity, and sounds as such. People like to talk about Taylor Swift’s accomplishments in business and monetary terms, because that’s where they’re most pronounced, but what goes missing in this conversation is how all the accolades and achievements are a direct correlation to her artistry, which is undervalued for sociocultural reasons too complicated to get into now. Suffice it to say, were she not a young blonde pretty girl who sings about love I think we’d be focusing instead on her immense prowess with words and structure, the way her gift of melody is tied to her rhythmic cadences and impressive ear, and how her sense of narrative is such that she sees the personal as universal. Because for all their greatness, have the likes of Miranda Lambert or Jamey Johnson been able to do this? To turn an experience so individually specific into something that speaks to, and for, a larger concern? In songs like this, or “Fifteen” or “The Best Day” or “Never Grow Up,” Swift becomes didactic in the best way: providing a path for those who follow her to remember to live their lives with dignity and respect for themselves and others. And for a lot of kids, that’s the exact message they need.

Honorable Mentions:

2. Billy Currington, “Love Done Gone”
When it begins, it’s gob-smacking. What is all this Michael Bublery? What saves its initial finger-snapping fedora’d ba-ba-ba horn section is its urgency and glee, its brazenness and pop. And then the song takes a turn, Currington describing the end of the affair as something that just happens. None of these histrionics we’re so used to getting, about the end of love as tragedy. Sometimes it’s just a shrug, inexplicable and seemingly random. A part of life, like death. And as the song winds down the horns get more joyous and drunken and alive, like Currington is having a helluva time at the wake, like sometimes a relationship’s death is a new lease on life, like the whole of New Orleans is telling you to get up and go.

3. Sunny Sweeney, “Staying’s Worse Than Leaving”
Her first hit was a thorny and controversial description of infidelity; why this didn’t catch on was it was an even more complicated take on exactly how hard it is to be true to the one you’re with, when you’re doing it because you’re supposed to and not because it’s what either of you want. A breathtaking, mournful lament about the inevitable fade of love and devotion, and being stuck with the remnants of those memories.  

4. Pistol Annies, “Hell On Heels”
If Destiny’s Child were Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt, covering the Shangri-Las.

5. Zac Brown Band, “Colder Weather”
A song that fumbles with its words enough to make it sound intentionally eliding while making the sound do all the work: the stately piano shivers in conjunction with the violin, while Brown’s throaty purr tries its damndest to warm himself up.

6. Eric Church, “Drink In My Hand”
Take this job and shove it, everybody’s working for the weekend, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away. 

7. Martina McBride, “Teenage Daughters”
When Taylor Swift has children of her own, you can bet she’ll write the same gracious and loving odes to them as she does to her mother. In the meantime, we have this impeccably snarling ode to motherhood, with the love certainly there but also the fascinating resentment, the weary wariness, the hard-earned alcoholism. McBride’s wry vocal performance is a delight.

8. Taylor Swift, “Sparks Fly”
Shining like lighters in the dark in the middle of a rock show. 

9. Kenny Chesney and Grace Potter, “You and Tequila”
The latest in a long tradition of country singers being seduced by Los Angeles and waking up next to the Devil, hoping for one more night.

10. Easton Corbin, “I Can’t Love You Back”
Country music has always been good with titles, and this one seems ready to be a riposte until it flips expectations, becoming instead a classic, mournful bit of wordplay that the ludicrously-named Corbin belts like his life depended on it.

2011 AHNC Awards: Album of the Year

Following in the grand tradition of Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt’s Trio collaborations, except is it really a supergroup if only Miranda Lambert reaches those levels of fame (and even that may be stretching it)? No matter, because Angaleena Presley and Ashley Monroe made names for themselves with their startling turns here, managing to match the force of nature that is Lambert. They begin with the title track “Hell On Heels,” a brilliant statement of intent that serves as both appetizer and red herring for the tightly constructed work that follows; if the concept is joyous indulgence in wanton hell-raising, then they deliver and fail, but the failures are the best ones. It seems incongruous that just a few songs later we get “Beige,” the best song Dolly Parton never wrote, so concerned as it is with proper morals that the poor girl has to get married to “some boy” just because she’s pregnant, like a rejoinder to Bruce Springsteen’s “The River.” But it’s a brilliant sketch, as are so many others whose destitute circumstances are tied to our country’s woes, economic and otherwise: the great metaphor of “Lemon Drop,” the haunting and indelible “Housewife’s Prayer,” the indictment of “Family Feud.” But it’s not a total bummer, as the peppy “Bad Example” and “Takin’ Pills” show, as well as the sweet, lazy pandering “Boys From The South,” nevertheless an awesome anthem for those of us who love them boys. But where the album reaches perfection is the alternately brutal and hilarious “Trailer For Rent,” a song so precise in its language that it might as well be a Hemingway short story (or, even better, Amy Hempel). When Lambert finally, deliriously delivers the punchline—saying the word “shit” like she’s savoring every last drop of flavor—you forget that she didn’t show this much focus and sharpness and wit on her own record, happy enough that she managed it here, with her gals in tow.
Honorable Mentions: Gillian Welch’s The Harrow and The Harvest; Eric Church’s Chief 

2011 AHNC Awards: Female Artist of the Year

Her solo output at the beginning of the year coasted on the critical and commercial success of Revolution, giving her a profile bigger than it ever has been; at the end of the year, she dropped her first truly inconsistent and disappointing effort in Four The Record. It’s an album full of expansive and thrilling and remarkable highs that point to how important Miranda Lambert’s versatility and artistry is to modern country; unfortunately, this is counterbalanced by some dreadful lows that seem to come with the territory of her newfound fame and mainstream status. We could blame this on the fact that Lambert had less to do with the actual writing of the record than in her previous work, though the best songs were written by other people while the worst ones were almost entirely her own doing. So why, then, is she here? Simply put, she helped create and release Pistol Annies’ Hell On Heels, an immaculate concept that showcased not only why we fell in love with her in the first place, but also her unsung and mostly unknown collaborators Angaleena Presley and Ashley Monroe, who each get their star turns. At the end of the day, though, it’s Lambert who shines brightest, her caustic and buoyant voice leading the charge and taking her friends along for the ride. Pistol Annies was Lambert’s one true great artistic statement of the year, an altruistic display of teamwork that managed to make her star shine even greater than before.
Honorable Mentions: Taylor Swift (it’s weird how an “off-year” still means the most albums sold in any genre, a massive and lovable and important hit, and the year’s most spectacular tour); Gillian Welch (who maybe doesn’t fit in the genre, but there was no better album that connected to country music’s roots than The Harrow and The Harvest, and besides Lambert has now covered her twice); Sunny Sweeney (an inconsistent album, but its best tunes—all from her earlier EP—remind us of early Lambert); Martina McBride (for “Teenage Daughters,” which shows she’s still kicking)

2011 AHNC Awards: Male Artist of the Year

Sometimes Eric Church seems to have no discernible personality, or rather that his feels borrowed from elsewhere. He often comes across as Jamey Johnson’s pugnacious little brother; like Johnson, his ideological myopia can rankle—see the reductive “Homeboy,” where country/rural values are noble while “hip-hop”/”urban” is code for dangerous and destructive (it is also code for something else, clearly). But also like Johnson, it doesn’t weigh down or affect his songwriting; in fact, Church instead becomes more interesting for daring to engage in some thorny content and discuss a subject more complicated than the empty, pastoral nostalgia of back roads and small towns. Though not blessed with the most versatile or impressive vocal instrument, Church nevertheless emerged as the most welcome and interesting male voice on country radio this year, rabble-rousing and aggressive and provocative. His Chief sounds like a game-changer in ways not dissimilar to Miranda Lambert’s Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, packed as it is with rambunctious guitar licks and a feisty personality that comes through most often in clenched vocalizations that sound sneering and frustrated. The songs don’t match Lambert on her own sophomore effort, but not much does. It will be interesting to seem him try.
Honorable Mentions: Jason Aldean (for the way he comes alive on the chorus of each of his big hits this year); Billy Currington (for the easy-going “Let Me Down Easy,” which didn’t prepare us for the majestic “Love Done Gone”); Blake Shelton (whose zooming, twinkly “Honey Bee” showcased a newer, more gregarious side of his personality better than his mature-but-boring odes did)

2011 AHNC Awards: Duo/Group of the Year

There was really no competition for Zac Brown Band this year, what with Lady Antebellum’s complete failure to follow-up the heart-stopping “Need You Now” with a song that wasn’t boring, Sugarland’s astonishing fade to irrelevance, and The Band Perry’s incipience. Especially considering they began the year with the achingly graceful and stately “Colder Weather,” and then coasted throughout with their typically bouncy jams that meant absolutely nothing besides a good time. But check that midsection in “Keep Me In Mind,” where out of the blue they decide to become a classic soul act. The breadth of their musical vocabulary is exactly why they are so vital, and here’s hoping they push themselves to greater heights next time. They sure seem capable of it.
Honorable Mention: The Band Perry (“If I Die Young” seems undeniable even if it’s far too precious to be great, and “You Lie” is insipid, though “All Your Life” showcases all their strengths—swoony instrumentation and an easy gift for melody—while also nearly obscuring their weaknesses, namely the singing and the words)

2011 AHNC Awards: Best New Artist

Like Miranda Lambert before her, Sunny Sweeney has proven that country radio doesn’t really know what to do with idiosyncratic women who sing ambiguous, complicated songs. This is not her fault, though she is to blame for a spotty debut record that only sometimes rose to the level of her vocal and lyrical abilities. One hopes (and assumes) she’ll learn to more fully harness all of her talents, because it’d be nice to have a third great country blonde to go along with Swift and Lambert. On the plus side: the six or so songs that presented the bruised, fascinating, intelligent figure, from last year’s stunning “From A Table Away” to this year’s heart-stopping “Staying’s Worse Than Leaving” and shit-kicking barburner “Drink Myself Single.”

A 40-hour week worth of trouble to drown

Billboard chart, week ending Dec 17 2011 (new entry)

10. Eric Church, “Drink In My Hand”
The song sounds familiar, and yet it isn’t. It whirls and rollicks like a long-lost classic rock track; maybe Skynyrd? And the melody recalls a vintage Toby Keith drinking song, or perhaps Huey Lewis (that’s a compliment, for what it’s worth). The sentiment is deceptively simple and nearly rote, but the song’s construction is immaculate and its words winding and twisty. Tilted one way and the tune becomes depressing, and Church seems on the verge of nearly toppling over before righting himself and continuing with lively revel. If there’s any complaint, it’s that Church’s thin whine doesn’t elevate enough, doesn’t produce or convey much joy—even in this ostensibly happy song, he sounds seething and gritted. But even that is thrilling, as is the song: so full-blooded as to be earned, but zippy enough to almost soar. Bonus point for referencing “Rocket Man.” [9]

The unfamiliar taste of someone on my lips

Billboard chart, week ending December 10 2011 (new entry)

9. David Nail, “Let It Rain”
The production, from the faceless guitars to the generic female background vocals, doesn’t do this song many favors, washing out its potential for being the clear, incisive depiction of guilt that it so wants to be. We know, from “Red Light,” that Nail can really sell a chorus, and he tries as best he can with the limp and cliched words he’s given here (a better use of rain as metaphor for relationship troubles can be found in Jamey Johnson’s impeccably flipped “Thankful For The Rain,” to which this song obviously pales in comparison). The first verse provides the storyline’s detail in a manner that comes across as utilitarian instead of storytelling, though at least the second manages to hint at the complicated tangling of guilt and lust. All in all, a missed opportunity. [5]

The way I would lay wastin’ day after day with you

Billboard chart, week ending November 26 2011 (new entries)

8. Zac Brown Band, “Keep Me In Mind”
A problem—if you can call it that—with Zac Brown Band’s unwavering competence and musicality is it becomes unsurprising. Brown states at the beginning, “This is gonna be funky!” and it is, in a RHCP-lite kind of way. The rest zips along in the normal ZBB fashion—jaunty and peppy and breezy and thoroughly enjoyable if not at all complex—until the almost impossibly beautiful bridge, its Isaac Hayes-esque string section slowing down the proceedings to evoke some classic soul. In this instance, as with the soulful-in-a-different-way “Colder Weather,” you get a glimpse of the depth and breadth of ZBB’s talent and potential, and what’s tremendous is that it feels like a whimsical lark rather than a band pushing itself. When they actually being to push themselves, we’ll really have something, but until then at least we’ll have these lovely, generally meaningless but intermittently gobsmacking trifles. [7]

10. Rascall Flatts featuring Natasha Bedingfield, “Easy”
What hath the Aldean/Clarkson duet wrought? Not only did we then get a boring Paisley/Underwood, we also just received a disastrous Lambert/Shelton on the uneven Four The Record and now this overly processed cheese. Beneath all the bombast, there’s a great song: the sing-songy verse and the lying-to-myself chorus; unfortunately the rest of the song is melodically monolithic and plodding, and lyrically basic and rote. Gary LeVox, again, showcases a nice versatility that verges on bland, while Bedingfield feels a little characterless, though does get in a nice descending “whoa-oh-oh” towards the end. Generally, “Easy” is just that, and comes off a little bit safe. It could have used some of the ridiculous show-boating of “Don’t You Wanna Stay”; instead it’s a nice enough song that overstays its welcome by the second chorus. [3]

Your morning smile, your kiss goodnight

Billboard chart, week ending November 12 2011 (new entry)

10. Thompson Square, “I Got You”
I may have underrated “Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not” a little earlier in the year, as its reliable chug and particular charm provided a welcome blast on country radio this spring, though it still feels like it could be greater than it actually is. Specifically, its chorus feels like it should take off, and instead it just sort of happens. The same is true for this song, and it doesn’t even have the benefit of a great titular phrase. There is something squarely amateurish about the song, from its flat, go-nowhere melody to its bare-bones lyrics (at least their previous hit was well-sketched and had a narrative). Keifer has some interesting character to his voice; Shawna sounds like Hillary Scott’s Lady A understudy. The organs are nice touch. [4]