Every #1 Country Song of the 2000s: 2005

2005

January 22: "Awful, Beautiful Life" by Darryl Worley

This is an otherwise great slice-of-life song kneecapped by a pandering and unnecessary bridge. It's just an everyday story about a wayward man dragged to church by his wife, and then to a family gathering after that. I like the humor of the lines "My wife wanted to kill me but she tried to save me first / You're goin' if I have to drag your butt to church." Honestly, the entire song goes along pretty well, riding this Keith Urban-esque guitar groove and building up to a more than decent chorus of "I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful life." And I'd have absolutely no complaints until we get to the line "We said a prayer for cousin Michael in Iraq." The specific mention of Iraq irrevocably ties this song to a specific period in time, which itself is not a reason to denigrate the lyric. But in the context of Darryl Worley's already-present jingoism (see "Have You Forgotten?"), it just feels like unnecessary pandering. To be fair, it's not even remotely the worst attempt at doing so, but I think it does throw a wrench into the song; to be even fairer, I don't know if I'd have the same complaint if someone else sang it. Who knows? Maybe I'm just overthinking again. B

February 5: "Mud on the Tires" by Brad Paisley

Literally the only issue I have with this song is wondering why it was released in the winter. Had this and the stunning "Whiskey Lullaby" been swapped, would I be writing about the latter and lamenting that this was the song that got stuck at #3? Whatever the case, this is Brad doing his lightheartedness right. While taking a girl for a ride in your truck would become a played-out trope in the bro-country era, Brad's take is friendly and conversational. ("Have you been outside? It sure is a nice night / How 'bout a little test drive down by the lake?") I also love how laid-back and acoustic the production is, helped by a very fluid melody that makes some ear-pleasing leaps on the chorus. If Brad offered me a ride in his truck, I wouldn't turn it down, either. A

February 12: "Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts

"I made a lot of mistakes before finding The One" is a narrative that's not new to country. Just look at "Hurt Me Bad (In a Real Good Way)" by Patty Loveless as another example. This song had a long road to success, having been recorded by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Marcus Hummon, and Melodie Crittenden (who would later re-do it with Christian act Selah) before Rascal Flatts got to it. Surprisingly, there isn't a substantial difference among all the prior verisons -- they're all chill yet polished piano ballads, although I have to admit the NGDB version is a little too Michael Bolton for my tastes. Gary LeVox is pleasantly relaxed in his delivery, keeping this perfectly fine narrative from being melodramatic or trite. I still think the title is a bit unwieldy, and the piano intro a bit derivative of "Walking in Memphis," but as a whole, I also think this is the best version of the song out there. B+

March 19: "Nothin' to Lose" by Josh Gracin

Prepare ship for ludicrous speed. This is what the old folks might call a "patter song," with its main purpose being "go as fast as humanly possible." And if you pay attention to the lyrics, you realize just how utterly goofy and ridiculous it is -- and how all the better it is for doing so. "Rollin'  in dirt in a white T-shirt" is the kind of corny energy I think wouldn't have had a chance hitting at radio except in the months following the gonzo "Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)." Sometimes I have no better defense of a song than "it's fun," but there's always room for fun in my book. Plus, it's just impressive on a technical level that he nailed this song on the first take, adding a little bit of rawness that makes it stick around far beyond the first listen. A

March 26: "That's What I Love About Sunday" by Craig Morgan

I'm no longer salty about this one blocking Sugarland's "Baby Girl" from #1 or taking forever to fall off the charts. Back when this song came out, Sunday to me meant going to church, hanging around for coffee, and then listening to Bob Kingsley while I stuffed the newspapers I would then deliver. It sounds so mundane, but with it came a sense of comfort. Most of the people at church were nice (although a lot of them had to grow to like me), and the paper route usually meant I had an hour or two to myself. What I also love about this song (see what I did there?) is how chill it is, and how it evokes Sunday without being sanctimonious. It's just about finding comfort in the everyday, and what's wrong with that? B+

April 23: "Anything but Mine" by Kenny Chesney

The summer love nostalgia song is a standard in country music, but usually it's a look backward. Where this song stands out is by framing everything in medias res. We're in the moment, knowing the breakup of summertime love is impending, but still doing our best to enjoy the time we've still got together for walks along the boardwalk, carnival rides, and beachside concerts. And I think it's that framing that makes this song stand out even in Kenny's already beach bum-skewing catalog; it's just that different and vivid. I can picture every moment they're enjoying before he goes back to Cleveland, and I can feel the emotion of a line like "In the midst of the music, I tell her I love her / And we both laugh 'cause we know it isn't true." His delivery is laid back enough to enhance the slow burn, and the production is that right mix of joyous yet somber in how it leans into the electric guitar. I've had many people who aren't Kenny Chesney fans tell me this is one of the songs of his they do like -- and as someone who is a fan of his, I feel I'm well within my right to endorse it even harder. Easily one of his best. A+

May 7: "It's Getting Better All the Time" by Brooks & Dunn

This is one of their best, but sadly, also one of their most overlooked. Against a haunting string and piano production, Ronnie Dunn lays out a guy who's struggling to get over her. "I don't stop breathing every time the phone rings / My heart don't race when someone's at my door" sets the tone immediately, and it's enhanced by revelations that he's stopped drinking and started relying on his faith to get him through. That last verse is the real gut-punch, though: he finally runs into her again, and holds back from speaking his mind. While it is "getting better all the time," it's clearly not perfect yet -- she's still on his mind. And it's that unresolved tension that, when combined with Ronnie's up-front vocal and the beautiful production, makes for one of the absolutely best in some late-career highlights for them. A+

May 14: "My Give a Damn's Busted" by Jo Dee Messina

Joe Diffie had a  knack for the goofy that is hard to replicate (although songs like "Ships That Don't Come In" showed he could knock a ballad out of the park, too). And Jo Dee taking an obviously jokey song and giving it a dead-serious, determined delivery is a massive tonal misfire. The lyrics are just too comical to benefit from a serious read, what with lines like "twisted my heart 'til something snapped inside" and (admittedly now a little dated) name-drops of Prozac and enablers (oddly, she did snip out the Oprah name drop, which I probably would have let slide had she left it in). It all just fits so much better with the offhanded way Joe Diffie sang it, complete with his sharp little "eh-eh" after the second chorus. While I've already confessed to not being much of a fan of hers, I will say this isn't awful, and it's pretty well produced. But man, did it ever miss the point of the original. And it's not even the worst cover song on this album; she did an even more reprehensible job with Beth Hart's equally quirky "Delicious Surprise." C-

May 28: "Making Memories of Us" by Keith Urban

I actually heard this one for the first time as sung by Rodney Crowell on the Notorious Cherry Bombs album. It has Rodney's fingerprints all over it, what with its mix of depth ("Speak the language in a voice that you have never heard"), uncommon imagery ("in a cabin by a meadow where the wild bees swarm"), comfort ("you've been stretched to the limits, but it's all right now"), and humor ("I wanna steal your attention like a bad outlaw"). The underlying theme of trust is palpable in every line, and I think it's that emphasis on that theme that makes this a bit meatier than most romance songs. Keith gives a warm, tender read with a warm, tender production style that's in a similar vein to "You'll Think of Me" without feeling derivative. Plus, he got a freaking Rodney Crowell song to #1. How cool is that? A

July 2: "Fast Cars and Freedom" by Rascal Flatts

This was one of the last times Rascal Flatts truly felt breezy and easygoing, and it's almost like the end of an era on that front. That guitar riff is catchy, and I can't ever knock a "beautiful just the way you are" narrative. I also like how the narrative leans into the car imagery, referencing Chevrolet Nova and gravel roads -- images that weren't nearly as cliché then as they would be in the bro-country era. There's also an intentional break in flow in the chorus with the line "baby, don't move, right there it is," and again when all the instruments drop out of the hook. Subversive compositional tricks like that do a lot to elevate a song this lighthearted and catchy. It's not trying to be the deepest thing ever; it's just looking for a light-hearted sing-along with a couple of minor twists. And what's wrong with that? B+

July 23: "As Good as I Once Was" by Toby Keith

Not unlike Kevin John Coyne, whose work inspired this list, this song had to grow on me. I think I was just choking on the title. I've often dragged songs that lean too hard into the braggadocio (it's why "I Got My Game On" is my least-favorite Trace Adkins song), but this one is an extremely clever subversion. This guy is in tough situations where he's used to just pulling out his man card, but he's getting older. But when presented with attractive women and a bar fight, he initially turns it all down -- only to turn back around with an admission that yeah, I guess I can do it just this once. It's an unusual amount of brains added to the brawn, and it's all delivered with a knowing wink. This kind of self-deprecation is so unusual in the genre, and while it took quite a while for me to warm up to it, that slow burn just makes it all the stronger for me. A

September 3: "Mississippi Girl" by Faith Hill

An attempt to regain all the cred she'd destroyed by that poppy Cry album, this countrified take on "Jenny from the Block" still somehow manages to be at least a little less cringe than the context would have you believe. I like that it name-drops her actual hometown, and the chorus is catchy (although I don't think I've ever seen Faith Hill in a baseball cap). The production is pretty much on point, too, what with the unusual chord structures and mandolin. Admittedly, 2005-me knew almost nothing about the context and thought the song was okay on its own merits. Context may drag it down some, but not to the point I'd call it awful. Transparent and forced? Maybe a little. But still, I can't hate it no matter how hard I try, so there's probably some intangible making it not ring as false for me as it might for someone else. Or maybe it's just nostalgia for a time when I didn't know how deep the rabbit hole actually went. B-

September 17: "Play Something Country" by Brooks & Dunn

It's disappointing to see them regress this quickly in one song. Some of their worst '90s hits ("Little Miss Honky Tonk," "Mama Don't Get Dressed Up for Nothing") find them putting sexist words in the mouths of women, and this is another such example. The honky-tonk lady goes into a bar and demands the DJ switch from P Diddy (I doubt Ronnie even knows who that is) in favor of country music. While this one isn't nearly as misogynstic as a song with the phrase "buckle bunny" in it, it still loses points for the hook being so closely derivative of "Werewolves of London" that I'm surprised Warren Zevon's estate didn't sue. And for all the honky-tonk greats they name-drop (and for some reason, Keith Urban), the only female artist they could conjure up was Patsy Cline? Even Gretchen Wilson, who inspired this song, dug a little deeper by name-dropping Tanya Tucker. The production is also unnecessarily loud for no reason, and just like so many B&D songs, I'm not sure Kix was even in the studio at any point. What a waste of Ronnie, and of co-writer Terry McBride for that matter. C-

September 24: "A Real Fine Place to Start" by Sara Evans

You mean to tell me we got Rodney Crowell and a Radney Foster-George Ducas co-write to #1 in 2005? Awesome. This is easily one of her best by being one of his best. That guitar hook draws you in instantly, leading into "I'm gonna do it, darling / I could waste time trying to figure it out / But I'm jumpin' anyhow," which says so much with so few words. She's never been in love before, but she's finally found The One and it just feels too right to hold back any longer. And while it sounds so ordinary on paper, that production and infectious chorus -- replete with a Tom Petty reference -- absolutely soar. I can hear both writers on this, as the melody evokes "Nobody Wins" and "Lipstick Promises" in all the right ways. This song just brims with an anthemic sense of happiness. Right here, right now's the perfect spot, the perfect time to call this not only her best #1, but also one of her best period. A+

October 8: "Something to Be Proud Of" by Montgomery Gentry

Best of the year. This song uses the first verse to characterize the narrator's father as a story-teller, and how the younger narrator would initially be bored but ultimately become captivated. Later on, when the now-grown narrator is struggling to make ends meet and feeling like he's let down his father, in comes some of the best advice in country music: "If you're doing what you're able / And putting food there on the table / And providing for the family that you love / That's something to be proud of / And if all you ever really do is the best you can / Well, you did it, man." I can't tell you how many times I've cut myself down for being 37 and working two jobs just to spend it all on groceries and cat food -- before I realize hey, I'm better off than I was even two years ago, and way better off than I was in my 20s. The spacious, guitar-heavy production, and the inspired decision to have Eddie do the verses and Troy the chorus, make for a very memorable sound design. But ultimately, it's that second chorus and bridge that take this from a merely great story song to sharp, relatable life advice that hits me really hard in the heart every single time. A+

October 22: "Better Life" by Keith Urban

This song got hardly any airplay in my market, and I can't remember ever hearing it even once after it fell off the charts. I still have no idea how it managed to stay on top for six weeks, because it sure didn't feel like it did. But that's not a comment on its quality. I've always been bugged by the slightly mismatched scansion of the opening lines ("Friday night and the moon is high / I'm wide-awake just watchin' you sleep / And I promise you, you're gonna have / More than just the things that you need"). but the overall promise of "things will get better; just stick with me" is admirable. The melody and production are a bit tighter structured than "Somebody Like You," feeling almost like a march at times and helping to make it sound less like a clone of that song. And you can't go wrong with that ganjo. I could've wrongly dismissed this as filler, but I'm glad I gave it another listen, because it's way better than I remember. B+

December 3: "Come a Little Closer" by Dierks Bentley

Dierks Bentley tries to get his Conway Twitty on and succeeds. This one's a bit louder and rougher-edged than Conway got, but to me, that helps this make-out number feel all the more inspired. With that strong strum and his gravelly delivery, he feels like a slightly raw guy who wants to show a more passionate, sensitive side. Lyrically, it's what you'd expect among country make-out jams, helped with a clever double entendre about stripping it down to the basics. It's nothing mind-blowing or subversive, but it's different enough from the formula to stand on its own. This was the exact point where I considered his success not to be a fluke. B+

December 17: "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off" by Joe Nichols

The image of a girl who gets drunk enough to lose clothing could be a bit squicky in the wrong hands, but Joe Nichols is too chill to sound like a creep. I also love how he's able to lean into the joke by suggesting she wear extra layers or imagining her come home in a tablecloth. (I remember my mom being amused by how nonchalantly he says she's "just havin' fun.") There's never a sense that she loses her sense of agency or is incapacitated enough for someone to take advantage of her -- it's just a light-hearted joke that you probably shouldn't take at face value. Despite how wordy it feels for a joke song, it never feels like it's too long, either. (Especially in the context of the previous single "What's a Guy Gotta Do," whose entire lyrics could fit in a fortune cookie.) We could use more fun songs like this now and then. B+

December 31: "Must Be Doin' Somethin' Right" by Billy Currington

Rivaling Dierks's take on Conway, we get Billy's take. I honestly didn't expect it after a fantastic drunk father song, a light-hearted radio ditty, and a terrible duet with Shania, but I'll more than welcome it. Billy's voice is deeper and a bit more laid-back than Dierks, and his melodic choices here flow a bit better. I also like how, instead of being confident in his success with his woman, this guy knows how unpredictable she is and is afraid of a wrong move. You can feel the relief when he realizes he's "on the right road" and making the right moves. I think it's that unpredictability that makes this song unique among country make-out songs; rarely is the guy so unsure. And you know me -- twisting a formula around is almost always a good move. A-

Every #1 Country Song of the 2000s: 2003

2003

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January 11: "19 Somethin'" by Mark Wills

I was only two years old when the '80s ended, but the pop culture touchstones from the years before still lingered. I remember struggling to solve a Rubik's Cube, the local buffet had a Pac-Man cabinet, and a kid in the third grade once brought in a Stretch Armstrong for show and tell. So on the surface, I don't entirely hate this song's concept. What does rub me the wrong way is how there's really no narrative; it's just this Ready Player One-esque string of nostalgia-bait without much else going for it, so that those around the same age as the singer can say "Oh yeah, I remember that." When you compare it to the Pac-Man reference in Brad Paisley's "Welcome to the Future," it's clear the latter actually has something deeper to say about the game than just "it existed." (It's actually kind of crazy to think that a modern-day rewrite of "19 Somethin'" would probably be name-dropping Survivor, Grand Theft Auto, and Nickelback. Was it really all that long ago?) As it stands, it's just a listicle with an okay vocal performance and a really annoying guitar intro. C-

February 22: "The Baby" by Blake Shelton

This one could have been released a decade prior with no changes whatsoever and fit right in. It's a three-act song that you just know is going to end in a death, but it's helped along by a natural charisma and vivid storytelling. I like that it spends more time in the first verse setting the scene, so we know who the narrator and his family are. And who can't agree with a mother's love as expressed in the line "I don't care if you're 80, you'll always be my baby"? It's never bombastic or corny, and it feels credible even if you see the ending coming -- especially in how it breaks song structure to drive home the mom's death. This song almost single-handedly sees Harley Allen making up for all the sins of "The Little Girl" while also making me long for a time when Blake Shelton was actually good. Or in less snarky tones, it's just damn good country. A

March 15: "Man to Man" by Gary Allan

I've seen this song argued as the narrator putting his girlfriend's ex in his place by calling out his toxic masculinity. But to me, it's just angry, bitter virtue signaling. Concept-wise, I can't fault a guy who's willing to say "Hey, you treated this woman badly," but the execution misses pretty hard for me. Lines like "if not for me, she'd still be yours today / We're both men here, so why play games?" reek of superiority, especially in the snarling, nasal way Gary delivers them. (To be fair, I do genuinely like "She's a real woman, not a doormat for you.") When both parties in the conversation feel like they're posturing -- the other guy through his machismo, the narrator through his sense of superiority -- then the question is less "who cheated who" and more "why should I root for either one of you in this dick-waving contest?" If you want to hear this premise done right, check out Vince Gill's "Cinderella" instead. C-

March 22: "Travelin' Soldier" by The Chicks

I barely remember this song when it was on the charts, but one night in 2005 I heard it on the radio and it just destroyed me in the best way. The narrative seems simple enough: boy meets girl, boy goes off to war, boy doesn't come back. But every detail is crystal-clear, from their age, their locations, their personalities; it even works in the word "piccolo." The delivery is relaxed but never devoid of emotion, and the instrumentation is subtle but never dry. I especially love how it fades out on a fiddle and drum cadence. I love how sudden the soldier's death is, making it hit all the harder -- as I said previously, "just moments before these two had found a cure for loneliness, it's ripped away from both of them." The themes no doubt resonated in the throes of the Iraq War; sadly, opinions of that same war were more dominated by polemic vitriol that caused this song to free-fall from the charts and still haunts the Chicks two decades later. Thankfully, this song is so emotionally strong that I think it more than stands on its own as not just my favorite Chicks song, but one of my favorite songs of all time. A+

March 29: "Brokenheartsville" by Joe Nichols

"He wore that cowboy hat to cover up his horns" is a home run from the first line. This is a sharp, vivid, lyrically intriguing look at a man who's watching his ex leave with someone else and just laying into him. "Here's to the past, they can kiss my glass / I hope she's happy with him" is just delightfully savage, kept from outright cruelty by Joe Nichols' cool, laid-back delivery in contrast with the literal demonization of the guy who took her away. The melody goes down smoothly as well, what with its unusual chord changes and the neo-trad production. I actually bought Joe Nichols' little-known 1996 debut album at a dollar store long before he broke through, and while "The Impossible" was a grower for me, I was delighted to see this song become an instant hit. If you've got time to kill, whether in Brokenheartsville or otherwise, put this one on. You won't be let down. A+

April 5: "Have You Forgotten?" by Darryl Worley

"Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" may have been awful, but at least it didn't espouse conspiracy theories, whataboutism, and outright making stuff up. That it's so angrily pro-war is actually the least of this song's concerns. I admit I don't know everything, but as far as I can tell, there was no link between Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden, and to imply otherwise is conspiratorial. But of course, saying so riles up the hate-mongering hawks so he's going to pander for all it's worth. Naturally, the right-wing tactic of blaming made-up nonsense on "they" is present, what with the claim that "they took all the footage off my TV." I'm sorry, what? I saw 9/11 and the Iraq War on the news all the goddamn time. People won Pulitzers for covering 9/11. And what's with this whole "have you forgotten" nonsense? No, I haven't forgotten about 9/11. That was one of the most sobering moments of my life, and I was 14 when it happened. Where the fuck are you going with this, Darryl? And of course, this whole mess came only a month after the Chicks got booted off country radio for extremely stupid reasons that still get them flak over two decades later. And it sucks that this same year we got the infinitely better "It Can All Be Gone" by Jamie Lee Thurston, who comes right out and says "Got no time for jealousy, got no time for greed [...] 'cause I believe that God is in the soul of every man" -- a song which withered and died within a week. Even Darryl himself got it right much later with "I Just Came Back from a War," where he dropped the whole "America, fuck yeah" shtick to calmly and sympathetically recount the horrors of PTSD. This monstrosity is hands down the worst song of the entire decade, as far as I'm concerned. F

May 24: "Three Wooden Crosses" by Randy Travis

To me, the most moving religious songs are those that do not paint a perfect picture. Here, we have four people who are involved in a bus wreck -- a farmer, teacher, hooker, and preacher. Who do you guess survives the crash? No, not the preacher. It's the hooker, who is given a Bible by the preacher before his death. A Bible that she ends up reading to her son, who is now a pastor himself. A more cynical read might consider this contrived, and might also question the scansion of "It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you / It's what you leave behind you when you go," but I'm not here for that. I'm here to praise this song for choosing to redeem an unlikely figure instead of pumping up the one who's already redeemed. I'm here to praise Randy's laid-back, smooth delivery. I'm here to praise a genuinely clever twist ending. But most of all, I'm here to praise the fact that a song this inspired managed to avoid every trope that usually drags down inspirational music for me and simultaneously be a late-career hit. A

May 31: "I Believe" by Diamond Rio

And we go from a genuinely good Christian song to one about... believing in ghosts? Sure, I'll allow it. The piano-heavy production is haunting and ethereal, as you'd expect, but the twangy harmony reminds you that it's still Diamond Rio. It doesn't matter how long the time span is -- you lose a loved one, you still feel their presence. I've felt that way about my dad and grandma, both of whom died a decade ago. I'm sure my mom feels that way about her dad, who died in the 70s. Is there a Heaven? Are spirits real? What happens after you die? It's hard to say, but it's comforting to attach yourself to any interpretation of someone who's no longer alive still having some kind of tangible (or intangible) presence in your life. While I still think "You're Gone" is slightly better by going for the gut-punching devastation of loss, the perception of this as a sequel song makes it just as compelling. A

June 14: "Beer for My Horses" by Toby Keith feat. Willie Nelson

When "Try That in a Small Town" came out, I rememeber seeing discussions about this song and its call for vigilantism. And sure enough, the first verse does sing about lynching criminals. But while "Try That in a Small Town" clearly had its eyes set on the modern day, this one is so obviously a period piece what with its imagery of saloons and shootouts. Is it problematic to frame something like that in a positive light, even if there's zero implication of projecting it through a modern lens? I mean, it could be, but I don't know. There's something about Toby's delivery here that isn't as blustery as it could have been, and he does have genuinely strong chemistry with Willie Nelson here. Even with some of Toby's more problematic views, this one just never got under my skin. But if it did to you, then I can absolutely understand why. B

July 26: "My Front Porch Looking In" by Lonestar

The words "sippy cup" should not be in a song ever. It's a shame, because the hook is actually pretty clever. The view out his front door is picturesque, but it won't beat the scene of a happy loving family. While the production isn't bloated beyond belief as it was on "I'm Already There," Richie McDonald still employs a cloying, saccharine vocal delivery that makes lines about sunsets looking like paintings seem far more Hallmark Channel than they need to be. The sentiment is perfectly fine; it's just the execution that's off here. They were fully into soccer mom-pandering territory by this point, and while far from the worst on that front, it's still not as cringe as "Six Foot Teddy Bear." If you want this sentiment done right, check out Donovan Chapman's "House Like That" instead. And while you're at it, also put on Lonestar's stellar cover of "Walking in Memphis," by far the highlight of otherwise a pretty rough patch for them. C-

August 2: "Red Dirt Road" by Brooks & Dunn

A single road can have so many memories attached to it. The electric guitar/mandolin interplay manages to be wonderfully evocative before Ronnie's trademark voice even gets started. And what a set of lyrics we get: walking to church, meeting your first love picking blackberries, having your first beer, wrecking your car, and just enjoying life ("happiness on Earth ain't just for high achievers" is a fantastic touch here). I can picture every single thing here being something that really did happen, not just to someone Ronnie's age but for the young, the old, and almost anyone who is at either end of that red dirt road. I also love how the song wraps up by him going back to the road, finding it to be like a friend -- that's exactly how I feel when I go back to nostalgic places I haven't visited in decades. Much like "Only in America," this one paints an imperfect yet uplifting picture of the human condition, easily making it not just one of B&D's best, but also one of the best of this entire decade. A+

August 9: "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere" by Alan Jackson feat. Jimmy Buffett

Isn't this just "Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo" with different words? Oh well, at least this is a lot looser than AJ usually got. And that's probably about the only thing I can say in its favor, because this one quickly reached "Margaritaville" levels of "over-exposed vaguely Caribbean-sounding party song involving Jimmy Buffett that's become a commercial empire despite actually being kind of a downer." Sure, it's cute and lighthearted enough the first time, until you realize the guy's actually kinda miserable. And that's not how time works -- if it's "half past twelve," then even if you factor in the time zones that are offset by a half-hour, there aren't any where it'd be 5 PM. (Unless I botched the math, which is likely.) Who knows; maybe it's just the incessant over-play talking. But all I know is I need a drink whenever this song comes on, and it's not for the reasons the song intends. C

September 27: "What Was I Thinkin'" by Dierks Bentley

This song brings unrelenting grit right out of the gate, what with that Dobro interplay, almost Dorian mode melody, and a breakneck story about running off with a hot girl. "Becky was a beauty from south Alabama / Her daddy had a heart like a nine-pound hammer / Think he even did a little time in the slammer / What was I thinkin'?" tells you so much right away. The "father doesn't like the guy his girl's dating" trope is so well worn, but the song's focus on the running away and the narrator's unclear state of mind -- because that girl is just so attractive, after all -- put a fresh new perspective on it. Lyrical quirks like "half past too late" and a pursuit by the police add even more color. This song is infectiously catchy, fun, and messy in all the right ways, and overall, it's a four-minute burst of pure energy. This is still one of the best debut singles in the genre, in my book. A+

October 11: "Real Good Man" by Tim McGraw

This one has a hell of a groove and a silly premise -- "I may be a real bad boy / But baby, I'm a real good man" -- that somehow manages to work. I like that he calls out how her peers might reject him because of his rough exterior, and I like that a tough macho man is willing to come right out and say he's got a heart of gold. As much as our culture has hyped up manly men doing manly things, sometimes the facade needs to slip a little, and Tim gets that. I think he's a bit too mannered to really make the outer toughness sizzle, and the one flag-waving line could've been snipped out, but ultimately, there's really nothing wrong with this one. B

October 25: "Tough Little Boys" by Gary Allan

With what I just said about subverting masculinity, you'd think I'd dig this one too, right? Unfortunately, not so much. Just like "Man to Man," I can't knock this on concept alone. The central image of a macho type letting it slip when he becomes a father is admirable, and Gary is no stranger to male vulnerability. It's just the execution here that drags things down. Harley Allen has a sentimentality that can work, as "The Baby" showed; however, he did miss as often as he hit, and this one's a miss. The over-the-top reaction to his child -- he's scared of her first steps -- is laughable, and it's kind of creepy that he'd follow her school bus on the first day of school. Even his delivery has an unnatural fake softness to it that reminds me of Chuck Wicks, not helped by the excessively stringy bombastic production style. I will say this: at least it's not as ear-splittingly bloated as Lonestar's material around this point, nor as crassly manipulative and unbelievable as "The Little Girl." It's still a sappy take on an idea that should have worked, which just makes its mishandling sting all the harder for me. C-

November 8: "Who Wouldn't Wanna Be Me" by Keith Urban

This one starts off with a great opening line: "I got no money in my pockets / I got a hole in my jeans / I had a job and I lost it / But it won't get to me." And it also introduces a lot of themes that would dominate Keith's up-tempos for a while: sunshine, cars, and music. I like all the images here, such as his lover being the one who's playing guitar for once (presumably so he can focus on the ganjo that's driving the groove here?). It's hard to shake the perception of this being maybe a little too similar sonically to "Somebody Like You," but I'd say ultimately he changed enough for it not to feel redundant, either. And seriously, what's wrong with doubling down on the happiness? A-

November 15: "I Love This Bar" by Toby Keith

I've seen this described as the exact moment Toby Keith went from a singer to a product, thanks in no small part to his ill-fated restaurant chain taking on the name of this song. But entirely on its own merits, I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with it. Sure, it's a list song, and it's kind of lacking in tonal variety (which is somewhat remedied by the longer album version). But the things it does list are all kinds of people from all walks of life. I think he did the concept slightly better in the more sing-along-friendly "Drunk Americans," but at this point in his career, even the slightest nod toward inclusivity is something I'll accept from him. B

December 20: "There Goes My Life" by Kenny Chesney

Kenny Chesney had a fantastic run once he found that mix of melancholic introspection and laid-back beach-bumming. While this one doesn't hit quite as hard as the downright devastating take on Bill Anderson's "A Lot of Things Different," it's more than commendable as finding positivity in what can originally be seen as a negative. The narrator feels his life is shot because his girlfriend is pregnant, only to find out how much he enjoys having a child, and how emotional he gets when she leaves. It's a simple but instantly relatable story, and I love how it cleverly re-works the title phrase each time (a common country trope in the '90s that wasn't used nearly as much in this era). Little details like the daughter driving off with Abercrombie & Fitch clothing in her car add a more modern touch, and the production is warm and sympathetic. A