Mar 18, 2015

Single Review: Florida-Georgia Line - Sippin' On Fire

Listen here, if you don't believe me.

"Sippin' On Fire" starts off with a canned beat bed under a bit of generic electric guitar. Then Tyler Hubbard's vocals kick in (vocals: autotuned, processed, altered, filtered) and he tells me that I melt him like ice in whiskey. Okay, he's talking to the understood "girl," not me, but it's still creepy if you imagine he's computer-singing to you. He really wants to byte your bits, gig you with his hard drive, put his memory stick in your USB port…okay too much. Does ice melt in whiskey in a different way than how it would melt in say, lukewarm ginger ale? Probably not, but ginger ale isn't sexy, and sexy is what Tyler aims for. If I'm not reading off some clandestine lyrics website, I honestly don't know what the hell this "voice" is singing for the next few lines, verses and choruses. If you isolated the "singing," it would sound like a particularly nasal robocall dictation of some bad True Blood fan fiction. Something about a dude who sees a girl giving him the look because she's bored with her usual dude and night drink girl flame lighter, blah blah blahhh. None of it sounds very inspired. Even the basest caveman "me wanna screw girl" feelings come off as rote and flippant at the hands of these professional musicians. If they don't believe in the mass produced, tossed-off garbage they're selling, how can we? WE JUST WANT TO BELIEVE, TYLER AND BRIAN!  I'm not sure what Brian does here, I just needed to include him because he's half the duo, after all. This isn't a good song. It's not well written. It's not universally relatable, and it's not some ideal fantasy of romance or sex that those who can't relate would ever daydream about. It's a boring song about bored people doing things that might be risque if they didn't seem so bored about the situation and if it weren't being sung about in such a bored and boring fashion. "Sippin' On Fire" is a tenth generation copy of "Cruise," slowed down, bereft of catchiness, and leached of all fun. Filler shouldn't be singles. 


1 comment:

  1. This song was brought to you by Fireball "Whisky" cinnamon flavored liqueur. Served on tailgates near bonfires in clandestine post-game field parties that exist only in the imagination of suburban Atlanta born Nashville songwriters everywhere.



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