To John Rich's credit, he doesn't really say anything politically polemic this time. (At least not in the song. I've found several interviews where he rails against "practicing witchcraft" at Super Bowl halftime shows and... Eminem, on whom he is only a good two decades late.) And I could go on about his desperate right-wing grift or victim complex, but neither is (surprisingly) relevant to the content of this song. He may claim "most pastors" don't talk about the last book of the Bible, but I've worked in a church since 2003 and I can guarantee you Revelation has come up often. Some delve into the rich symbolism, or offer messages of hope and inspiration. Not so with John Rich, whose exegesis is focused entirely on judgment and wrath for the un-converted. There isn't a single shred of positivity in his interpretation for those not already on John's side. (Granted, I've had some doom-and-gloom spirals the past few months too. The difference is I'm not putting mine out there as a product.) Compared to the mix of assured warnings and gentle pleas for forgiveness in Josh Turner's eternally stunning "Long Black Train," this just sounds like some guy rambling on a street corner. To his credit, the sound design is on-point. There are some neat dips into Dorian mode, I like the hand claps, Sonya Isaacs still sounds great, and his voice is surprisingly commanding. If not for the blathering interviews and excessively negative tone, this might have actually missed the list this year. But as it stands, he's got the least-bad of the bad this year which I guess is... progress?
19. "Mamaw's House" by Thomas Rhett and Morgan Wallen
I've never bought Thomas Rhett's attempts to be a backwoods boy. We all know he wouldn't have a career if it weren't for his dad being such a popular songwriter (and singer; "That Ain't My Truck" still kicks ass). The way he says "mamaw," "tarnation," and "I reckon" feels almost Tommy Wiseau levels of stilted and stiff, further proving how contrived this song's conceit is. I also don't like the dip into preachiness in the chorus -- "if every nightstand had a Bible... every front door had a screen, well, maybe this crazy world would straighten up and slow on down." Not everyone who has a Bible follows what's in it or has even read it. Not every crime occurs in the city. And not everyone has a good relationship with their family. I'm sure Thomas and Morgan both had fine enough mothers, but their respect doesn't come across in this song at all. It feels like a Norman Rockwell painting set to music. To be fair, it's a bit refreshing to hear Morgan Wallen singing against production that isn't so murky or Auto-Tuned for once, but he adds literally nothing to this song other than name recognition. And either way, it's still cartoonishly contrived and preachy.
18. "Gonna Love You" by Parmalee
Why does this sound like if Chris Tomlin tried to do a country cover of Harry Styles's "Sign of the Times"? For the fourth song in the row, Parmalee strings a bunch of romantic clichés together with zero craft or originality. ("The second I looked into your eyes," "on the worst of days, it's gonna be okay," "my last breath".. how many stale lines can one song have?) Matt Thomas always had a voice so plain that he makes Mike Eli sound like Freddie Mercury, but here, he's instead straining way the hell out of his range. Those drawn out "gonna love you"s on the chorus are painful to listen to. (Side note: I see they've also taken the Alabama approach of "we have a drummer, but he does fuck-all on the albums.") I'm honestly sick of Parmalee being so painfully bland all the time, and once again, I wish they'd at least release something as entertainingly bad as "Hotdamalama" -- or something genuinely decent like "Carolina." Also, I'm going to point out that this song is the first #1 Country Airplay hit since 1998 not to enter the Hot 100, and it didn't have a Wikipedia article until it hit #1. That shows you how much of a nothing-burger this song is.
17. "4x4xU" by Lainey Wilson
Just when Lainey finally had me with the genuinely fun barn-burner "Hang Tight Honey," we're back to me wondering why she gets to have airplay hits and Ashley McBryde doesn't. As usual, I get zero sense of personality from her vocal delivery; she sounds like all the independent females I used to hear on WATZ back in 2010, such as Skylar Elise. The lyrical content is a generic "anywhere with you" motif that leans dangerously close into "I want to be the pretty little thing in your truck with zero agency" in the vein of Maggie Rose's "Girl in Your Truck Song." So not only is bro-country refusing to die, it seems like the females who actually submit to it are refusing to let go, either. I will give her credit for possibly the first Kalamazoo name-drop since "Della and the Dealer," but that's taken right back by the skeevy premise and the agonizingly slow production. Oh yeah, and that "because poor literacy is kEwL" title bugs the crap out of me, too.
16. "Cowboy Songs" by George Birge
Why was George Birge allowed to have a career after Waterloo Revival bombed? This one has terrible production with snap beats and echoing guitars, and George really isn't a strong performer on his own. His voice is thin and nasal as all get out. The premise doesn't even make sense -- you think it's going to be a twist on "Straight Tequila Night" or "She Only Smokes When She Drinks," but instead the mysterious woman "only dances to cowboy songs," whatever that means. We don't learn a single thing else about her. This song also shows a fatal misunderstanding of what a "cowboy song" even is, as the only name-drops are "Three Chords and the Truth" (Sara Evans or Chase Rice?) and Waylon Jennings, neither of which is even remotely "cowboy." I just can't see any modern-day woman getting her groove on to "Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie" or "Home on the Range." I haven't seen a song's premise have this little do with its own hook since David Nail's "Let It Rain.".. but this one is worse by the hook not having anything to do with itself, either. By the way, this was the second song this year to get all the way to #1 on the airplay charts without hitting the Hot 100... or having a Wikipedia article.
15. "Drinkin' Buddies" by Lee Brice, Nate Smith, and Hailey Whitters
If I had a nickel for every formerly-good Curb Records artist whose voice has vastly deteriorated in the past decade, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice, right? This one starts off with a weird banjo and snap-beat production backing a very herky-jerky melody. The lyrics can't even keep a sense of setting, as they abruptly jump from a hunting blind to the lake in the middle of the first... only to jump into an abrasively shouted chorus. Look, I get it; sometimes things aren't going right and you need someone to drink with. But I think you need slightly higher stakes than a bad day of hunting. Enter the second verse, where Hailey Whitters complains about her "boy toy up't and goned," which is one of the most cringe attempts at folksy grammar I've heard in my life. And I can't even tell which lines Nate Smith is singing, because the vocal mixing is somewhere between "too loud" and "way too loud." To be fair, I do like the lines "downtown clowns" and "cheers you up," and the central sentiment is fine. It's just the execution here that really misses the mark.
14. "Wind Up Missin' You" by Tucker Wetmore
Hey, Tucker? We already have a Morgan Wallen; we don't need another one. Seriously, he's got the raspy fake drawl down to a T. To be fair, the production isn't quite as crunchy or Auto-Tuned, but he's still pretty shameless. This is another scuzzy bro-dude in a bar hitting on a woman with such clever lines as "If this night don't turn into two, you look like I'm gonna wind up missin' you." She's only a one-night stand, but he's acting like she's about to be the one that got away, all while claiming his bad-boy past is behind him. When he says "it ain't what it looks like," I just don't buy it. I know this kind of guy, and I know the kind of woman who'd fall for his bullshit. It's just a grody, pushy, uncomfortable song all around. But the Morgan Wallen-ness of this song feels less like any sort of creative endeavor, and more like a bald-faced attempt to trick casual listeners. And to me, that's almost worse than any of the things he says in this song. Hey, Tucker, if you really want to get through to her, just try being yourself.
13. "This Is My Dirt" by Justin Moore
I'm not afraid to admit it: I love "Dirt Cheap" by Cody Johnson. So it's galling to see how blatantly this song copies its template, only without the heartfelt message (I've been told Cody did indeed write his song first). Country Universe posted on Bluesky that Justin seems to have a fear of things getting taken away from him, and that's the impression I get. "Dirt Cheap" is a rich narrative from a man who sounds wistful and gently pleading, as he tries to hang on to the memories of the land he's worked for so many years and all the stories that go with it. Justin, however, isn't nearly as detailed -- just generic phrases about "hard work." But what kills the song for me beyond its blatant copying is how butthurt he sounds. He comes off as a pouting brat who wants to keep things the same just because he doesn't know anything else at all, and his harsh whiny vocal tone doesn't help either. When he gets to the hook, it feels like he's having a temper tantrum right in my ear. "This Is" not a good song.
12. "Different 'Round Here" by Riley Green and Luke Combs
Just like "Mamaw's House," this is preachy and makes zero sense as a duet. I'm at a loss as to why Riley felt a need to resurrect this song four years later and tack on Luke Combs -- who, while maybe not the best mainstream artist, at least has a layer of respectability and authenticity to him. The "X is what you Y" motif wears off fast, ranging from a painfully out-of-date Lost name-drop, shoehorning in soldiers and the flag (I find that when people say they "don't care," it means they really do), to not making any goddamn sense ("hard work stops at the fence row" -- I thought your whole shtick was everything is hard work 24/7/365?). It's preachy, it's narrow-minded, it's contrived; it's the same defensive, butthurt rural pride anthems you've heard a billion times. The only reasons it's so low are 1.) both Riley and Luke are genuinely good singers, and 2.) I wanted to cut Riley a little slack for having not one, but two decent follow-ups in "Damn Good Day to Leave" and "You Look Like You Love Me." I think the lesson here is that unless it's by Sawyer Brown, don't put "'round here" anywhere in your lyrics.
11. "Love You Again" by Chase Matthew
Fun fact: this guy didn't even have a Wikipedia article until the song was in the top 10.. despite already somehow having gone platinum with a previous single I'd never heard of. Also new to this list, we have someone trying to be Bailey Zimmerman, down to having the same producer. Chase Matthew can't even navigate the song without an ungodly amount of Auto-Tune, which is never a good sign. It's such a tired narrative, mixing neon lights, trucks, and little black dresses into the same bro-y one-night stand you've already heard a million times. When he gets to the chorus, he lapses into a raspy strained delivery backed by blaring, compressed guitars, making for a genuinely harsh listening experience. I don't think he quite crosses over into sounding like a total scumbag in the vein of "Ready Set Roll." But sometimes a song becomes bad entirely by the absence of anything good, and this one truly has nothing at all going for it.
10. "Boys Back Home" by Dylan Marlowe feat. Dylan Scott
If Cole Swindell's "Chillin' It" was the poor-man's "Cruise," then this is the poor-man's "Chillin' It." It has the same "open on a mildly catchy chorus" trick and a similar chord pattern, cadence, and banjo-guitar interplay. I genuinely don't know how Dylan Scott has had a career for so long, other than by being the most generic and radio-friendly bro out there. And somehow he got on a track by another generic nobody with the same first name. Marlowe awkwardly talk-sings through lyrics about Carhartt jackets and diesel, and then gets outshone on his own record by Scott, who -- again, despite being bland -- is noticeably a better singer, even when he's rattling off clichés about dirt and hard work. I just looked up this song and already can't remember a single word outside the chorus. If there's nothing to do in this nothing to do town, then maybe you should move out and get some fresh perspectives.
9. "New to Country" by Bailey Zimmerman
I honestly thought Bailey Zimmerman was onto something with the genuinely interesting "Fall in Love," but he fell off fast. His voice is as this most nasal yet on the verses, switching up to an ear-splitting shout on the choruses. The production is the same power chords and banjo you can find on almost any Brantley Gilbert record, and the lyrics? The dude who smokes, has tattoos, and listens to Guns 'n Roses is still a country boy, even after all the big hit singles. It's a tired argument, this defensive "oh, I'm still country" argument. (I also think it's pretty bad optics to have the word "Dixie" in a song in 2024.) I also think it's weird to title the song "New to Country" when the intended argument is the exact opposite ("I'm anything but new to country") -- an anti-title like that was genuinely clever deception on "Fall in Love," but here it just feels like "short titles are better." In short, it's just another laundry list of bragging about country-boy tropes we've heard a billion times, shouted over too-loud guitar, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
8. "Cowgirls" by Morgan Wallen feat. ERNEST
How 'bout them cowgirls? From the title and artists involved, I knew what I was getting: snap beats and Auto-Tune for days, combined with a bunch of meat-headed post-bro-country babbling about hot women who exist solely to break your heart. It's almost like they wanted to make a countrier rewrite of "Bitches Ain't Shit" but instead ended up closer to "Bitch Came Back." Also, just like the last time ERNEST hopped on a Morgan Wallen song, it makes literally zero sense as a duet -- there's no interplay between the two, to the point I can barely tell where either of them starts or ends a line, nor is there a thematic reason for it to be a duet. The utter lack of country instrumentation, combined with their vocal tone, just makes this song sound skeevy in a way a lighter read might not have done. I think it's clear by now that I no longer judge Morgan Wallen by his personality, but rather by his music... and he's really doing me no favors (although I will grant "I Had Some Help" wasn't that bad). Let the cowgirls run... away from these two bozos and into someone with better material.
7. "Miles on It" by Marshmello and Kane Brown
My recent pivot on Kane Brown isn't a bit just to piss off Trailer and/or other Farce the Music readers; I really did grow to like his music more. However, this was a massive step backwards. First and foremost is that I just don't like Marshmello. Like his name indicates, his brand of EDM always came off as flavorless fluff to me. And in this case, I'm not sure what he even did on this song, as there isn't a distinctive beat or melodic riff or even a solo that I felt worthy of a feature credit. My own bias against this subgenre aside, the lyrics also feel like they're absurdly beneath Kane. "My baby's push to start" sounds like the kind of single entendre Florida Georgia Line was too embarrassed to put in "Sun Daze," and the woman as usual has literally zero agency. She's just there for Kane to ogle over and drive out in the country with her, as if we hadn't already heard that same premise six zillion times. Between the genuine romantic chemistry of "Thank God," and the sincere familial bonding of "Grand" and "Backseat Driver," it felt like Kane was embracing a newfound maturity. But this is just skeevy frat-bro machismo, exacerbated by sterile lifeless sound design.
6. "Darkest Hour" by Eric Church
I hope I don't come off like an asshole for ripping a charity single a new one. I have no problem with the fact that Eric Church set up a fund to help those affected by Hurricane Helene; I just think the song he chose to accompany it is the worst thing he's ever cut in his life. It's got this weird lounge-pop production that sounds like if Almost Vinyl tried to use AI to make a Burt Bacharach or Frank Sinatra pastiche... only instead of "I Only Saw This Play to Get Some Ass," we get an endless jumble of mixed metaphors. In the first line alone, the person in need is both homeless in the snow and a rudder-less ship in low tide. Then they're in the burning sand with their hair on fire and thrown a rope to get out of their head. (I think this finally supplanted Miranda Lambert's "Bluebird" as the most incoherent jumble of mixed metaphors I've heard in a country song.) Even worse from a sound design standpoint is Eric's vocal delivery -- a weird mix of Christian pop fake-raspiness, Jana Kramer level fake twang, and absolutely ear-bleeding falsetto. This is the most egregiously I've heard someone sing way too far out of their range since Lewis Capaldi's "Someone You Loved." I'm sure his heart was in the right place, but his sense of songcraft really went out to lunch.
5. "True South" by Rodney Atkins
I still believe If You're Going Through Hell was a solid album. That album finally found Rodney Atkins's image as a laid-back father who's seen some hard times and is now enjoying a fairly positive Southern lifestyle. But after that, he really lost his way with increasingly desperate and personality-deprived bids for radio airplay, such as "Take a Back Road" or "It's America." Additionally, his singing and sound design got way worse. This one starts out massively on the wrong foot with the line "we don't smoke meth, smoke brisket," which is jarringly tone-deaf to the methamphetamine epidemic across rural communities. What follows isn't nearly as insulting, but it's still very pandering. Yes, we get cut-off jeans, kudzu, dogs, church, and hard work -- you could make a "country cliché bingo" card and no matter how you distribute the slots, you'd still easily get a double-bingo by the second chorus. What's worse, Rodney sounds awful on this. His voice has always been polarizing, but prior to "It's America," I never had a problem with it. There's no force behind his tone anymore, and he sounds exhausted when he gets to the hook. Much like on "It's America," he's also mixed way too low relative to the backing vocals and instruments. (Surprisingly, he's got someone other than Ted Hewitt behind the boards for once.) By the way, did I mention that frequent Farce the Music punching bag Redferrin wrote this?
4. "Stick to Our Guns" by Craig Campbell
I admit, I have a pretty serious gun phobia. Some of it comes from the wave of public shootings after Columbine, as well as the stereotype of gun-toting rednecks who make Yosemite Sam look reserved -- I have seen trigger-happy idiots shoot literally anything that moves! In Craig Campbell's world, the cities are good for nothing but crime, but the country means the door can stay open as long as somebody with a .44 is on the other side of it. Justin Moore in "This Is My Dirt" may sound whiny, but at least he doesn't sound like he's fishing for an excuse to pump someone full of lead. (See also Josh Thompson's "Way Out Here" or Tracy Byrd and Mark Chesnutt's "A Good Way to Get on My Bad Side.") Craig doesn't help his case by throwing in an out-of-nowhere mention of the flag (because shooting everything in sight is "American"?) nor his use of the word "troubadour" (so he's an 11th century French poet? Seriously, stop using that word). The fear of the city continues to such a psychotic degree that he's even afraid some "bigwig" is gonna dig him up after he's dead. At least unlike "Try That in a Small Town," it's not as angry and dour sounding, and he doesn't cross the line into overt racism. But this is still a pretty troubling message.
3. "Just Like Johnny" by Redferrin
Hey, Redferrin? We already have a Morgan Wallen and a Morgan Wallen wannabe; we don't need another one. And what we also don't need is a fatal misunderstanding of Johnny Cash's personal life. The person who was working cotton fields at age five, served in the Air Force, battled amphetamine and alcohol addictions on a number of occasions, performed concerts in prisons, was an activist for Native American rights -- a very conflicted human being, but also a musical talent so great I have never met a single person who dislikes him -- is reduced to "I'm just like Johnny Cash because I also screw up and do drugs." There's no understanding of the Man in Black's career, of the personal struggles that caused the demons to keep coming back. (Did you know June would sometimes flush his drugs down the toilet?) Instead, he staples on an "I messed up, it's all my fault" narrative and claims he'll still love her like Johnny and June until he dies. Nothing ties into Cash's legacy or shows even a superficial knowledge of him beyond "singer who did drugs." Compare "Johnny & June" by Heidi Newfield and its well-placed invocation of "Ring of Fire" to draw the focus toward Johnny and June's legacy as a power couple even after their deaths. And of course, it's all done in a Morgan Wallen-styled nasal drawl (with slightly less muddy production), but you probably knew that by now. Far more than how it's sung, this song actively angered me by its mere concept being downright blasphemous to one of the greatest musicians of all time.
2. "Made in China" by Aaron Lewis
I don't get Aaron Lewis. Sure, Staind is a punchline, but I still stand by some of their songs. But his deep dive into right-wing grift is head scratching to the extreme. (Just as baffling is Bobby Pinson's dive into the same, although I guess the flagrantly racist Toby Keith song "Made in America" was just the first domino there.) I already went over a lot of that when he did "Am I the Only One," but here, it's outright racism to the forefront. "I ain't made in China from all the cheapest parts" is the same racist bullshit I've heard for years, even though in modern times, China is responsible for a lot of very important technology such as semiconductors. He may claim he's more American because he buys locally and even shoehorns in a flag-waving sub-chorus... but this whole "not made in China" ignores that some goods are difficult to make or produce locally (coffee comes to mind) and more importantly, that we absolutely can support the economies of other countries as well as our own. ("I ain't selling 'em any of mine / I ain't buying theirs, either" -- racism and selfish in one fell swoop!) "America first and only" never made sense to me, as it seems blatantly contradictory to any sense of freedom and growth. How can we "grow" as a country if we're not lending a helping hand? Even just the fact that this song is nothing but vocals and Dobro suggests he's trying to pick up where Oliver Anthony (how quickly we forget) left off. If you want a tasteful song, about foreign-made goods, put on Buck Owens's "Made in Japan," which has aged amazingly well.
1. "Make America Great Again" by Brian Kelley
I'd like to make one thing clear: this would have been my least-favorite no matter who won the election. In fact, I had this instantly tagged as my least-favorite of the year well before Election Day. It's easy to point to politics as the reason behind Florida Georgia Line breaking up, given that Tyler Hubbard and Brian Kelley are known to be politically opposed. But I don't think there's enough hard evidence to cite that as a reason behind their breakup, and the fact that both musicians' solo output is markedly different from FGL indicates a sincere desire to focus on solo careers. Furthermore, I still believe Tyler's pleas for unity in "Undivided" came from a place of sincerity; if party lines were dividing FGL, it seems like Tyler was at least trying to reach across them. But even without all of that, there's no denying that this song is full of the hateful rhetoric that I thought we were better than by now. "Streets are full of drugs and illegals / It's time to finish that wall," "try to take our free speech and our rifles," and "back to United States...we ain't messing around with other countries' wars" show the same kind of xenophobic, hate-filled bullshit that the more toxic parts of the right have been spewing for decades. I'm not looking forward to the next couple years, and songs like this give a good indicator as to why.
Already made last year's list: "Chevrolet," "Truck Bed"
Dishonorable mentions: "Different 'Round Here," "Back Then Right Now," "Pretty Little Poison"
You always hated country music and only listened to stuff like Hoobastank and Theory of a Deadman until Jelly came along. You are blissfully unaware of his former life as a rapper. You know your disc golf handicap. You didn’t finish your degree at Arkansas State Mid-South because of a slight gambling addiction, but your dad happily let you come on at the windshield repair shop.
Johnny Blue Skies - Passage du Desir
You’re either a Sturgill fan from way back, or a jam band fan who suddenly developed good taste. You also may be a scooter riding yacht rock connoisseur. Whichever way, you’re cool with me.
Petty Country
You always thought Tom Petty’s voice was kind of harsh, so you’re happy Nashville finally watered down his songs for you. You listen to this in the background while yelling at site supervisors as you cut people off on the highway in your F-450 XLT that you don’t actually do any work in. All the parenting duties fall on your (third) wife.
Thomas Rhett - About a Woman
You are married to Thomas Rhett.
Oliver Anthony - Hymnal of a Troubled Man’s Mind
You consider yourself deep because you memorized a Robert Frost poem one time in 7th grade. You knew he meant other obese people who like fudge rounds, not you. You aren’t from Appalachia, but you did stay in a Holiday Inn Express in Pigeon Forge one time.
Beyoncé - Cowboy Carter
You don’t really care if the album is country or that Beyoncé said it isn’t. It must be acknowledged as such and all must bow. You have only listened to the album like 3 times total. The color of your hair is not natural to the human species.
Luke Bryan - Mind of a Country Boy
You own a shop that sells mid-priced jewelry, tee shirts with southern sayings, and trendy pottery. You were asked to be the house mother for the Tri-Delts at Ole Miss but your husband spends so much time driving around in his F-450 XLT yelling at people, all the parenting duties fall on you.
