Good Things

Nightfall – Little Big Town

Here we are then, twenty-twenty, the year of hindsight, and my first (new) album purchase of the year is this new record from vocal harmony group Little Big Town. And it’s great, beautiful, and if you’re not uplifted by the opening track, “Next to You”, you’re dead inside. The band wrote 34 songs for this album, whittled down to a lucky 13 for the release. There are lush songs reflecting on things worth getting up for, drinking songs, questioning songs, heartbreak songs, and all of it lifted by the soaring power of the human voice, the harmonies and arrangements, as ever, superb. It’s not all Karen Fairchild, either. At times, I’ve felt that she’s carried the rest with her amazing voice on their standout tracks. Not this time.

On Chapel Sands – Laura Cumming

Finally got to read this, a book that was on my list from the moment I read an extract in the Graun last year. I listened to the abridged version on Radio 4, but still wanted to read it. It’s an intriguing story about a child who gets snatched from a lincolnshire beach in 1929. The child was the author’s mother, and the story is both a deeply personal story about identity and a documentary about rural life and hard times in the Britain of long ago. The author is an art critic and tells the story through images, including both family photos and paintings. She highlights the mysteries of both, from the blurred faces of long-dead relatives to the carefully composed works of old masters. The writing is beautiful, the story tightly controlled, with startling revelations that keep coming. Having read this and Mark Lewisohn’s first volume of his Beatles biography, and knowing some of my own family history, you start to form a picture of British family life that’s completely at odds with the conservative myth of “family values”. 

My one criticism of On Chapel Sands is that it tries very hard to be a beautiful (hardback) book, but is let down by the reproduction of the images that are so important to the telling of the story (like the one above). What it needed was an insert of glossy pages. What it ends up with is what Kurt Vonnegut so memorably described: “They were grainy things, soot and chalk. They could have been anybody.”

The Whisperer in Darkness – BBC podcast.

You ay have heard this recommended. Radio drama can be hit and miss; there are so many things that can go wrong. They can rely on grownass adult women to deliver the voices of children: bad. They can have extended sequences of grunts: boring. They can dumb things down too much: Journey into Space, I’m looking at you. They can be too depressing or too middle class. But The Whisperer in Darkness is properly good, so much so that I even forgive it the already tired trope of being a podcast about a pretend podcast. It even manges to be decently creepy and scary. 

(In contrast, the latest BBC attempt at this kind of thing, Murmurs, becomes quickly unlistenable. It relies too much on irritating sound effects which are, well, irritating. And it uses a sound effects library of sounds that telephones haven’t made in a long time. Also, it relies on the conceit that all of this drama is happening over telephone conversations – and who, these days, ever really talks on their phone?)

CMA Awards – State of the Country Music Union

Dolly Parton, Amanda Shires, Maren Morris, Tanya Tucker, and Natalie Hemby

I came late to the CMA awards because there was no live broadcast in the UK – as usual – and only an edited highlights package on BBC4. Which, given the state of recent shows, is no bad thing.

This year, perhaps promted by the underlying rumblings over the lack of representation of women on country radio, perhaps by the Ken Burns documentary (which has also just dropped on BBC4), the CMA decided to do a show that was a celebration of women in country. Ken Burns has (unavoidably, because the truth has a feminist bias) demonstrated how integral women have been to the genre, going all the way back to the Carter Family, and so the CMA put women front and centre.

Some of it was good, some of it was bad, some of it was ugly.

The Good

It was so great to see so many of my favourite artists performing on the stage. The opening featured the likes of Jennifer Nettles, the right half of Little Big Town, The Highwomen, Martina McBride, Sara Evans, and Gretchen Wilson, as well as hosts Carrie Underwood, Dolly Parton, and Reba McEntire. Later on in the show, Maren Morris performed the title track of her album Girl, and both Carrie Underwood and Miranda Lambert got a solo slot. There was also another medley by up and coming women artists (performing the Little Big Town hit “Girl Crush”), and Kacey Musgraves appeared with her pal Willie Nelson. Even Sheryl Crow turned up, performing a spirited “Me and Bobby McGee” with Dierks Bentley. All in all, the representation of women artists was high, much higher than in previous years, and of Bro Country there was very little evidence.

The Bad

Here’s the thing (and I’m not the first nor the only person to point this out). Martina McBride’s most recent (non-Christmas) album was Reckless, released in 2016, and reaching #2 in the Country album chart. Its title track is an absolute corker. But the snippet of a song she got to perform in her opening medley was “Independence Day”, from 1994. That hit dates from the days when women could still get airplay on Country radio, and is probably still in rotation on some stations that don’t play much new stuff – especially by women. Similarly, Sara Evans performed a snippet of her hit “Born to Fly” from 2000, while her most recent album, Words, came out in 2017 and peaked at #4 on the Country album chart. In other words, while the men in the show mostly get to perform current or recent hits, the vast majority of the women were wheeled out to do 20+ year old material.

The Ugly

Luke Combs, for example, who was prominent last year as well as this, got to perform “Beer Never Broke My Heart”, which is fairly typical of the kind of fare that gets automatically added to Country radio playlists without needing to be “requested” or “liked” a million times on Facebook, which is one of the excuses given for not playing female artists. The best I can say about Combs is that at least he didn’t have a dixie cup glued to his hand this year (as last) and also only wore his fucking bro country signifying baseball cap on stage. Is he any good? Honestly, it’s all right, but he’s one of those vocalists – like Blake Shelton – who sings like he’s also trying to do a shit, and once you allow that thought to enter your head, you can’t listen any more.

But perhaps the starkest indicator of how women are still having to “backwards, in heels” their way to the top was the contrast between Carrie Underwood’s elaborate staging and immaculate costuming as she performed her showstopper — immediately followed by the overweight and scruffy looking Combs who performed in black jeans, black shirt and a baseball cap. Can you imagine the conversation if Carrie underwood turned up one year sporting an untucked shirt and a beer belly?

Finally, the show, which at least started with a stage crowded with women, descended into god-bothering religious mawkishness – as first cheatin’ Blake Shelton performed some pious crap about “God’s Country” and then Dolly Parton performed something like fifteen hours of gospel songs. There’s always been a certain amount of religionism in the genre, comes with the package, but this felt like some weird counterweight to all the unruly women we’d seen earlier. You’ve had your fun, girls, the CMAs seemed to be saying, now get back on your knees.

A few reviews

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Lady Mary in the Wild West

Bit of a general round up, because one can’t consume anything these days without reviewing it.

Star Wars: Rogue 1 (iTunes)

Seemed like a pointless cash grab to me.

Tim McGraw and Faith Hill: The Rest of Our Life (iTunes)

An album of duets from Country music’s First Couple. There have been a number of collaborations on each other’s records over the years, but this is the first time a whole album has been released. This is okay: a couple of naff tracks (e.g. “Roll the Dice”) and a couple of corkers (e.g. “Telluride”). Most of all, it’s a pleasure to hear Faith Hill’s voice on new material. She hasn’t released an album of her own since 2005.

Sar Trek: Discovery (Netflix)

The new Star Trek turned out not to be about graphic designers in space, but was instead a fascinating and morally ambiguous exploration of cutting edge tech development at a time of war. The first two episodes were a bit dull (too much Klingon), but once the series proper kicked in, each successive episode seemed to be better than the last, and more and more like Star Trek. Produced by team that is clearly steeped in Trek lore, the whackadoodle episode titles are evidence enough that this new Trek is in good hands.

Godless (Netflix)

A seven-episode limited series, this Western didn’t really add much to the oldest film genre, but was quite well done. A town in which most of the men had been killed in a mining disaster finds itself the focus of interest from speculators and bad guys when an injured outlaw shows up at the ranch of a woman who has survived a terrible ordeal. There are several interweaving plot-lines, and the storytelling is slow-paced, but reaches a satisfying (if a little OTT) climax. Mind, there are too many endings, a bit like Lord of the Snores. The Daily Mail got a little overexcited by Michelle Dockery’s all-too-brief love scene, but then who didn’t watch Downton Abbey living in constant hope that Lady Mary would get her boobs out?

Lee Ann Womack: The Lonely, The Lonesome & The Gone

51w4uGcJHkL._SS500This new album from one of the most talented female vocalists in country music is her first for three years (which is better than the previous album’s 6-year gap). Womack co-wrote half of the 14 tracks, and there are a couple of interesting covers. Musicians include several members of the Nashville A-Team (Paul Franklin, Glen Worf etc.), but the vibe of the record is meant to be East Texas and soul, whatever that means. There are a couple of gospel-tinged numbers, and the whole record sounds great. The fact that this peaked at #37 on the Country charts with sales of just 3,200 in its first week tells you all you need to know about the perilous state of the music industry today, which increasingly relies on big-hitters like Taylor Swift (1.05 million sales in 4 days) while everybody else scrambles for scraps. The only way to make a living as a musician is to tour constantly. And it’s not even just about sales. Of the three “Official Audio” videos released on YouTube to promote the album, only one has more than 20,000 views. The fact is that the music press is in a dismal state, there are virtually no music shows on TV, and (of course) Country radio doesn’t play women. So there is no real promotional push for artists like Lee Ann Womack, and Chris Stapleton-like miracles are black swans.

CMA: cannot mean anything

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Just look at them

It’s time for my annual ponder about the state of country music, based on the snapshot offered by the CMA Awards. This time around, I’ve been unable to catch the whole telecast, but I’m relying on the paltry 60 minute edit offered by BBC4. The problem with this cut-down format is that the broadcasters tend to select the top acts, major awards, household names (yeah, right, I know) rather than the up-and-coming and merely-nominated names. It used to be my main means of discovering new things, but I’m unlikely to find anything new this way. The Beeb did show us the winner of the “New Artist” award, but I had already downloaded Jon Pardi’s 2016 album California Sunrise from YouTube iTunes.

To tell the truth, I really miss the days of the CMA Awards being presented by Vince Gill, which ages me considerably, because I just found a news story about how he wouldn’t be hosting the 2004 awards after his 12-year stint. 🤭

Anyway, there was something off for me about most of the performances on the telecast, and I was left feeling that the show’s format was suffering from an excess of control and that what it was really missing was the sense that something could happen. I mean, it is literally only two years since Timberlake and Stapleton burned the room down, with a performance that you just could not bottle or rehearse into oblivion. This is the thing about music: you can destroy it when you try to bottle it, which is why Bob Dylan has spent his entire career trying to keep it live and spontaneous.

Anyway, something’s gone on. The performers, many of whom are wildly successful and seasoned live performers, seem to find this format intimidating and nerve-wracking. Maybe the show’s producers are to blame, or maybe it’s the record labels, piling on the pressure by pointing out how their Xmas album sales depend on this single performance.

The fact that this is one of the few music shows people actually watch means there’s been a tendency for the labels to sploodge a non-country artist into the mix in an attempt to cross promote. This year it was P!nk, performing solo; last year it was Beyoncé, performing with the Dixie Chicks in an attempt to capture some of that Stapleton/Timberlake magic. But here’s the thing. What worked with Justin Timberlake and his tight, talented band, is not necessarily going to work for artists who are more used to performing tightly timed and well rehearsed shows in a more programmed way.

Which is not to say I’m accusing P!nk (or Beyoncé) of miming (they call it lip synching now, but we always used to call it miming when we watched Top of the Pops and judged people for it). Which is exactly what fucking Garth Brooks was doing when he came on to perform his latest single (and later collect the Entertainer of the Year award). I mean, Garth, you’re in front of an audience of your peers and you do that off to the side of the mic move, and your voice miraculously doesn’t lose any bottom end when you go off-axis from an SM58?

Couple of things about Garth. Slick record production, back in the 90s, and the pick of the best songs, and some pretty spectacular live shows, with you know, fire and rain, and wire work. But he was never much of a singer, and – especially live – he couldn’t really project his voice. And he has never deigned to put his stuff – any of it – on iTunes, so he’s running his current tour on pure nostalgia and niche album sales through his own service, which who can be bothered with that? Worst of all, he’s dragged his more talented wife, Trisha Yearwood into this doomed enterprise, so she’s vanished from the public’s consciousness.

So there was him, but then the actual live performers all sounded tight and nervous and a little bit off-pitch. It was as if they were all singing with a gun pointing at them from the wings. Perhaps memories of the Las Vegas shooting? What happens when a bunch of country fans gather in one place?

So Miranda Lambert, Maren Morris, Kelsea Ballerini (with Reba) all sounded off key. And then Little Big Town, whose big selling point is their incredible harmony singing, did a lacklustre version of (shit song) ‘Wichita Lineman’ with Karen Fairchild wearing possibly the most ill-judged pair of boots in television history. I mean, just look at them.

Keith Urban’s performance was his new, Instant-Karma type single ‘Female’ was pretty decent, and Tim McGraw and Faith Hill put in a tight, on-key and touching performance of the title song of their new album The Rest of My Life. She’s another one who disappeared off the face of the earth, having last released an album in 2005. But at least this record is available on YouTube iTunes.

The Bros were less in evidence than recent years. Possibly because the BBC didn’t include them, but also because the shockwaves created by Chris Stapleton’s success have made record labels realise that songs about beer, trucks and blue jeans have a limited shelf life.

Apart from Stapleton’s turn with “Broken Halos”, probably the highlight of the broadcast was young Mr Alan Jackson being inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, and performing two oldies from his back catalogue. In the right key, and without miming. The love and respect for him in the room was clear, with almost every current male singer in the audience singing along with all the words. Apart from Garth Brooks, Jackson’s contemporary, who didn’t seem to know them.

Which sums it up really: stagnation. Chris Stapleton’s stripped back, back-to-basics music hasn’t filtered through too much, although he still scooped key awards. Tim McGraw can still bring it. Alan Jackson, at 59, still does the New Traditionalist thing better than anyone. Garth Brooks won Entertainer of the Year, just as he did in 1991, 1992, 1997, 1998, and 2016. And everyone else is too nervous to produce their best.

CMA Awards: state of the union

simpsons-milestones

You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.

Finally got a chance to watch the highlights of this year’s CMA Awards, which took place about a month ago, a few days before The Cataclysm. Although the 90-minute edit I watched was mainly of performances, it’s still a good opportunity to read the chicken entrails of the music industry, as is traditional on this blog.

I’ve been watching the CMAs for 25 years now, so for about half it’s 50-year run. This year was the meaningless milestone featuring a 5 and a 0, so there was a deal more wallowing in nostalgia than usual — which is saying something, where country music is concerned.

Invented by radio, featuring something that was – even in the 1920s – characterised as ‘old time’ music, country has always-already been a nostalgic genre, its history peppered with emblematic crises. As early as the 1950s, the so-called Nashville Sound was an attempt to protect the genre by providing slick, commercialised competition for the burgeoning pop and rock genres. In the 1970s, the Outlaws provided a more ‘authentic’ alternative to the slick Countrypolitan sound. In the 1980s, the ‘Neotraditionalists’ claimed their own version of the elusive ‘authenticity’ for a new generation. And so it goes, into the alt.country era, and the Americana movement.

What the CMA Awards show represents, every year, is a compass pointing in the direction the industry is heading. Around 2013 and 2014, I almost gave up on the genre, because there were too many mullets and baseball caps, driven by the Bro Country movement, and too many songs about blue jeans, beer, and pickup trucks on dirt roads. In the background, women were struggling to get airplay on the radio, which meant they were struggling to get marketing push, and the UK iTunes store was a stagnant swamp of cardboard cutouts catering to a lowest common denominator of drunken galoots in football stadia.

Last year’s show, with the astonishing performances of Chris Stapleton and Justin Timberlake, and the shock board-sweeping win for Stapleton and his album Traveller was the break we needed. Stapleton had received virtually zero airplay or record company support, and yet the buzz around the album was such that, by November, the night was his. Stapleton himself, with his mountain man beard, his bulky frame, and crushed-looking hat, is the antidote to the baseball capped pretty boys.

So to 2016, the year America elected a fascist. What gives in country music? The 50th anniversary show featured a high number of medleys, and as well as the nostalgia, tributes to the likes of Merle Haggard, who has departed this world, and Dolly Parton, who has not.

What interested me this year was a feeling of pulling up the drawbridge and bringing into the fold exemplified by the presence of artists who are rarely (if ever) seen at this most Establishment of award ceremonies. Garth Brooks, for example, was front and centre (and won Entertainer of the Year) in a way that I’ve never seen – even in his heyday. When he was breaking all the records for album sales back in the 90s, he was too big for the CMAs. Later on, he was too retired. Now he’s back, along with Trisha Yearwood, who has also rarely been seen at the show. One of the medleys featured Dwight Yoakam, who has never been a Nashville guy; and Clint Black, who was a staple of the show in the early 90s, but hasn’t been seen in the Brad Paisley/Carrie Underwood era. Even Randy Travis, who was big in the 80s and 90s, but whose career (and health) nosedived, was back on the stage, still evidently recovering from his stroke, but able to sing the single word, ‘Amen.’ And then out came none other than Taylor Swift…

But the enfolding of the outcasts and outlaws was nowhere more evident than in the performance of the Dixie Chicks (with Beyoncé). The Dixie Chicks were banned from most country radio and ostracised by many of their peers after they dared to express dissent about George W Bush. It has been over 10 years, but they seem to be back in favour and back on tour. (I’m still bitter, however, that they haven’t put out any new music since 2006.)

The Chicks and Beyoncé was supposed to be this year’s Stapleton/Tiberlake, but it didn’t quite work for me – largely because they still haven’t got anything new to sing, but also because it seemed over-rehearsed and backy tracky. The beauty of last year’s S/T pairing was the improvisational musicianship and the glorious spontaneity. Still, it was probably the most controversial part of the show, due to the inevitable outpouring of hate on social media.

Apart from that enfolding atmosphere, the semiotics of this year’s show were fascinating. I didn’t see a single baseball cap (loud cheers), but there were lots of cowboy hats. Luke Bryan still got a look-in, but appeared capless and extremely lightweight compared to just about every performance on the night. Eric Church was also capless, though still insisted on wearing his mirrored sunglasses – so I will not be buying his album. Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood took on a medley of costumes from across the eras (Paisley included at least one hilarious mullet wig), and there were fewer people exiled to performing on little stages at the back of the crowd.

My favourite moment, for sheer class, was when Garth Brooks was announced as the winner of Entertainer of the Year. He went to hug each of the other nominees in turn before taking the stage in what seemed to be a genuine show of love and respect. As far as performances went, the best this year was Keith Urban, who performed ‘Blue Ain’t Your Colour’, a nice follow-up to last year’s ‘John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16’.

So the trend is back to the hats, and Don’t Mention The Apocalypse.

12 Downloads for this summer

cover400x400Ahead of the epic car journeys of the summer, I like to stock up on new music. For recommendations, I turn to the Rolling Stone Country account and their regular lists of artists to check out.

That’s not the only way I find new music, but it’s a fairly reliable barometer in the absence of the UK iTunes store doing anything to update itself. Anyway, here are my recent adds.

  1. Donovan Woods – Hard Settle, Ain’t Troubled. Got this because of his song “Portland, Maine”, covered by Tim McGraw. He’s a great songwriter with a voice that doesn’t match his face. Sounds are Americana-standard, acoustic in the main.
  2. Amanda Shires – Carrying Lightning. Discovering new music on iTunes is hard, partly because of the problem of categories. They have a Country section (not regularly updated) and a Singer/Songwriter section, but there is no Americana (or alt-country) and no Folk or Folk-Rock. There is plenty of music that would fit in either of these categories. Anyway, Amanda Shires Isbell (married to the similarly hard-to-discover Jason Isbell) kind of sways between Country-Americana and Singer-Songwriter. Pretty good.
  3. Keith Urban – Ripcord. Keith Urban has  made a reappearance on UK iTunes after a gap where several albums weren’t even given a UK release. This one is fairly standard: rock-pop/country with some decent guitar. His voice is limited: with the right song, it’s perfectly fine, but when he strains for those emotions he sometimes seems, well, strained. The standout track on this is “John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16” which is a hooky little number on which Urban plays lead bass.* I can’t stop playing it
  4. William Bell – This is Where I Live. This was a Twitter recommendation. A radio producer I follow got an early listen of this (it’s not properly out yet) and named it the album of the year. You can get three tracks now, and the rest should drop by the end of the week. It’s a soul record in the classic style, a throwback to 60s song values with 2016 production values. This is the one I’d be slipping into playlists and mixtapes if I still did that sort of thing, ahem.
  5. Brandy Clark – Big Day in a Small Town. The best songwriter of the “class of 2013”, Brandy Clark’s follow up to 12 Stories is bigger in every way. This new outing features some powerful songs, including the jaw-dropping “Daughter”, which basically wishes a daughter upon a cheating, lying male in the name of karma: so he can watch her get her heart broken by men like him. You think you’ve heard it all, and then this. Essential listening.
  6. Imogen Clark – Love and Lovely Lies. Another hard-to-discover artist. This one I came across when she guested on a podcast (My Favourite Album). At just 8 tracks and 35 minutes, this album is a proper throwback to the golden age of albums, when they were almost all about this long. Another artist with a strong voice and punch-packing songs, don’t be fooled by her appearance into thinking this is going to be some kind of folky background muzak.
  7. Larkin Poe – Reskinned. The Lovell sisters seem determined to leave their folk-country roots behind them. So much so, that they’ve remixed and revamped their album Kin, changing some of the tracks and giving the whole thing a harder, rock-stomping edge. If you follow them on Twitter or Facebook you’ll know that they’re both shredding like mad these days and Rebecca has started playing a Strat through a Big Muff distortion pedal. Talk about trying to reposition yourself in the market: unfortunately, these brilliant 20-something musicians will still find themselves staring at an audience of grizzled, balding 50-somethings, because those are the people who go to (non-festival/arena) gigs.
  8. Frankie Ballard – El Rio. Frankie Ballard’s latest is a real step up in quality from his previous release (2014’s Sunshine and Whiskey). The songwriting is better, and his gravelly but versatile voice is the one Keith Urban wishes he had. You can hear the influence of Bob Seger on the whole record (plus there’s a cover of “You’ll Accompn’y Me”). This is a really enjoyable album packed full of decent songs, like “El Camino”, “L.A. Woman” and “It All Started With a Beer”. Great for a road trip.
  9. Smithfield – Smithfield. This is on Rolling Stone’s July list. Another 8-tracker, these guys are like the new Sugarland or something, which, in the absence of Sugarland, will do.
  10. Anthony D’Amato – Cold Snap. Another one from the RS list, I’ve only played this through once but like it a lot. (Almost) like Frankie Ballard, this is country rock via the Jersey Shore. Where Ballard takes his influence from Detroit (Seger), you can hear Springsteen here, but also Ryan Adams, and Tom Petty references, if you like that sort of thing – and who doesn’t?
  11. Sarah Shook and the Disarmers – Sidelong. Another RS recommendation, this feels more like a punt for me. I’m thinking this is cowpunk, in the vein of Lone Justice. With songs titled “Dwight Yoakam” and “Fuck Up,” this can’t be wrong, can it?
  12. Lucie Silvas – Letters to Ghosts. Finally, this is a British-born, New Zealand-raised country artist who has (for whatever reason) waited years between album releases. Again, I’ve barely listened to this, but the title track is excellent, and it finishes with a spooky cover of Roy Orbison’s “You Got It”, which shows good taste, if nothing else.

*For non-religionists, like me, I looked it up. This verse is the one that basically summarises the new testament in a line: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

 

Jag

I’m on a bit of a Tim McGraw jag at the moment. I don’t know why. Those smooth sounds, maybe, that vocal sound, which is not so much autotuned as excitered into the fifth dimension.

His recent album Damn Country Music is much of a muchness with his other output of late, and no particular song jumps out at me right now, but it’s the sheer consistency that gets you in the end. Alan Jackson dependably puts out a decent album every year, as does Brad Paisley. That’s one of the joys of country music: its slow-changing nature, and the high quality of the top acts. If you like it, you go on liking it, more or less.

Thing with McGraw, he doesn’t write for himself, so is dependent on the roster of songwriters who supply him with material. Now, this is where a career can slide. Both Jackson and Paisley co-write a lot of their own songs. Tim McGraw stays on top by staying on top. As long as he’s on top, he gets the cream of the crop. All the songwriters make more money that way. Garth Brooks used to ‘do an Elvis’ by having his name attached to songs brought to him by others (I guess he may have contributed a line or two?). Other artists fall by the wayside, and stop getting first pick of the best songs from the song pluggers. And life is getting harder for songwriters, I think, because of the recent rise of singer-songwriter artists, which didn’t use to be so much of a thing.

Songwriting has long been associated with pairs of writers, but I’ve noticed a trend in recent years for the traditional two-way co-writes to become three- or even four-ways. In an industry that claims to be suffering from the rise of streaming and the loss of physical sales, it seems that the sure-thing income from artists like Tim McGraw is being spread ever-more thinly. One name you’ll see all over Damn Country Music and other recent McGraw albums is Rodney Clawson, who gets a co-writing credit on no less than five of the 14 songs on the Deluxe edition. It’s interesting to see the roster of artists that Clawson has written for – the likes of Jason Aldean, Luke Bryan, Lady A, Blake Shelton, FGL, and so on, all of whom are country chart-topping and award-winning acts. But very few of their fans would be aware of the behind-the-scenes contribution of Clawson.

Meanwhile, a writer like Chris Stapleton, who wrote hits for many of the same artists (including ‘Whiskey and You’ for Tim McGraw) has taken his ball home, in a sense, because he’s now a solo recording artist. The breakthrough success of his album means that he’ll likely be reserving his songs for his next outing.

I think the remarkable thing about Tim McGraw is that, since he established his mature sound about 14 years ago (with his …and the Dancehall Doctors album), his records really go on improving with age. I still love ‘She’s My Kind of Rain’ from that album, among others, and still have several favourites from each subsequent record in my playlist.

liked his 2014 album Sundown Heaven Town when it came out, but 18 months on, I truly love it. You don’t get this from standard album reviews: everyone is in a rush to get the review online, but it’s rare for anybody to come back a year and a half later and tell you that it’s not only good, but gets better with age.

‘City Lights’, ‘Shotgun Rider’, ‘Sick of Me’, ‘Portland, Maine,’ ‘Diamond Rings and Old Barstools’ – all superb. I even like ‘Keep On Truckin’, which I ought to hate but don’t.

Anyway, this all means that his latest, Damn Country Music, will probably hit me hard sometime in late 2017. Meanwhile, I’ve got a 4-hour 48-minute McGraw playlist.