Jun 14, 2019
Mar 27, 2019
(RIP KRH. Leaving this because she 'liked' it on Twitter)
Sep 18, 2018
Jul 6, 2018
Mar 28, 2018
Jun 16, 2017
"Traitor. Texas forever, bitch!" read a tweet from @txgirl696969 this past Friday, and that's one of the nicer responses Barton has received. He's also seen his previously ascending single drop off the charts when his album including "White River Hills" was released.
Barton is flummoxed by the situation. "Literally, all 97 songs I've ever written before were either about Texas or took place in Texas or were named after a city in Texas," he explained. "But it's like I cheated on my wife or something, writing about Missouri." Barton says he was touring through Missouri and Arkansas and simply thought the White River Hills area was beautiful and wanted to express it in song. He never expected his budding career to hit a brick wall because of it.
He's had bookings cancelled across Texas in the wake of the controversy. Someone even tore the "Don't Mess With Texas" sticker off his tour van. "Casey Donahew called and cursed me out," said Barton, shaking his head. "and Kevin Fowler pulled his tour bus up in front of my house and forced me to hand over all his CD's that I owned."
Apparently, Barton told us, there are only a certain number of acceptable locations in songs for artists of his ilk. Texas is always king. Oklahoma is fine sometimes. Louisiana will work for songs with zydeco instrumentation. Mexico, of course, is great. Nobody writes songs about Arkansas. Deviation from these unwritten rules leads to black-balling and questioning of loyalty.
At press time, Wells Barton was planning to re-release his album Stars and Bars and Cadillac Cars with "White River Hills" replaced by a new song, "Texas is My Only Girl," but it remains to be seen if too much damage has already been done.
Apr 20, 2017
Feb 21, 2017
Mar 9, 2015
Sep 24, 2014
Nov 10, 2012
Sep 20, 2012
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 12, 2012
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 9, 2011
Hello everybody. I have returned for another turn pontificating about a piece of secular music. I am particularly distraught right now, because my home state of Mississippi last night determined that they hate little babies and wish for them to die. With this breach of moral priorities in mind, I'll strive to deliver some clear thoughts about this song "Saturday Night" by Mr. Wade Bowen.
On the surface, this seems the kind of message I could get behind. Bowen asks why people enjoy the sin and frivolity of Saturday nights. I ask this every Sunday morning, my eyes pausing to rest on a couple of teens slumping in their pews and Louie Reynolds, who recently left his wife and has been seen cavorting at a place called Pardners. In any case, this is a good question. If only the reason behind his disdain for Saturday nights was a pure and good one.
However, Mr. Bowen only dislikes Saturday night because his woman (presumably a woman, but you never know with these liberal Texas types) left him on a Saturday night. This has made him cranky about "drunk girls" he wishes the bartender would kick out and a band that's playing music too loud and a couple who is likely necking in a pleather booth. While these things also get my boxer shorts in a knot, I am opposed to them because I am righteous and Jesus-seeking, not because some female set me free.
If Bowen only finds self-worth in the wanton arms of a barroom floozy, then he is surely bound to someday find his final comforts in the warm and ruddy arms of Satan himself. Also, he admits to drinking amidst his pain and his annoyances. Strong drink is never a solution, it can only be a problem unto itself. Oh, one more thing… he tosses off "nothing but Sunday morning waiting for me at home" as if that is his only option. Find yourself in a church pew telling God you trust in his Word, Mr. Bowen, not hugging the American Standard and telling God lies about how you won't pursue the evils of alcohol again!
While this song is fairly pleasing upon the ears, it is a carrier of dark notions and a bearer of sin. I can only pray and shake my head for Bowen, the fans of his music and you, my reader who will probably disregard my warnings and enjoy this turd that the Dark Lord himself excreted. Repent! Repent I say!