As frustratingly inconsistent as Brad can be -- as seen by my previous reviews -- he is nearly untouchable when he's at his best. And this song is definitely up there. The concept of being able to write a letter to your past self is fascinating on its own merits, especially for someone like me who struggled in their teenage years. But what goes in said letter is where this shines. Individual lines evoke sadness ("go hug Aunt Rita every chance you can"), subversion ("these are nowhere near the best years of your lives"), introspection ("Pain like that is fast and it's rare"), and humor ("When you get a date with Bridget, make sure the tank is full / On second thought, forget it, that one turns out kinda cool"), and it's all wrapped up by a gentle, relaxing, acoustic-driven read. Literally every damn thing works on this song, and its central message of "life may not be perfect, but it'll still get better" is universally relatable. I still tear up a little every time I hear this. A+
This is a legitimately funny spin on the "overprotective dad" trope. This guy doesn't remember much from high school except threats from an equally suspicious father figure, who'll be "up all night still cleaning this gun." And now the narrator is in those same shoes, knowing his daughter is going to be with some horny young boy who might take things too far. At no point does it feel like there's any danger of the narrator going postal; after all, he goes out of his way to say nobody will actually get hurt. And as someone who's deathly afraid of guns, the fact that I laughed at the punch line is proof that he got his point across without sounding angry. I think Rodney's rough-edged delivery with a hint of a chuckle to it helps the message go down; it's also way stronger melodically than is the norm for Casey Beathard (who, for the record, does have a knack for good father-centric songs). Why has this guy's discography aged so well? A-
March 15: "All-American Girl" by Carrie Underwood
The father in this song wants a boy he can watch play football, but instead gets a perfect girl -- one who, 18 years later, is dating the high school football star, whose head is no longer in the game because he's in love. It's not really breaking any new ground lyrically, but with a title like that, I'm not expecting it to do so. It does what it does by sounding like something that could have actually happened and never feeling trite. Besides, the detail of his scholarship being on the line is a bit inspired, and the melody's great. It's also got a strong melody with a bit more fiddle than usual, which offers some grounding even after she goes for that high E on the bridge. To use an appropriate football term, this was a great fumble recovery after "So Small." B
March 29: "Small Town Southern Man" by Alan Jackson
Just like the previous song, this one succeeds by being a straight-ahead, no frills story about an everyday American life. Only this time, it's about the narrator's father. It's almost like an expansion of "Home" from much earlier in his career, telling of a hard-working father (his own, obviously) who settled into the "natural way of life, if you're lucky." I also like the actual detail of how Alan was the fifth child after four daughters, raised in a house the father himself built. "He said his greatest contribution is the ones you leave behind" is also a winner of a line. You know the father's going to get old and die, but both the father's and narrator's observations of his high spirits even in his twilight years keep the story moving along. The fact that AJ's voice is a little softer and weaker by this point only emphasizes that world-weariness he sings about, and the production smartly stays out of the way. This song emanates humility and selflessness, two qualities that should appeal to all parents and children alike. A
April 12: "You're Gonna Miss This" by Trace Adkins
And speaking of positive portrayals of fathers... This one finds the daughter being embarrassed by her dad when being dropped off at school, being visited by him in her apartment in adulthood, and then having an observation on childhood from a plumber in the third. The setup sounds smooth and natural, each time reflecting on the ups and downs of parent-child relationships. As macho as Trace was in this timespan (again, "I Got My Game On"), it was refreshing to see him drop the posturing and go for a calm, introspective bent again. And that line from the plumber when he's being bothered by the children -- "I've got two babies of my own; one's 36, one's 23" -- is a hell of a payoff. No matter how old you are, you're always somebody's "baby." I'm glad his stint on The Celebrity Apprentice gave a signal boost to one of his best songs. A+
May 3: "I Saw God Today" by George Strait
Sometimes it's the small things in life that remind believers of the existence of God. Unlike Lee Ann Womack's awkward "There Is a God" a year later, this one avoids implying that only believers can get cancer cured, or that science goes against God's will or something. The narrative here actually has cohesion, as the guy is taking a break while accompanying his heavily pregnant wife -- only to come back and witness the birth as another example of the Big Man's existence. If it's a predicable payoff, it's one that King George sells with a slightly poppier yet still charismatic read. I may be an atheist, but I believe he saw something that day just because he's so convincing at telling me. A-
May 17: "Just Got Started Lovin' You" by James Otto
How did this guy only have one hit? With a soulful delivery and great groove -- gotta love that Wurlitzer electric piano -- this is one of the coolest sounding songs to have hit the top during this stretch. Everything about it is just so chill yet sensual, never feeling gross or lazy. It hits that "just right" groove that says "sex" without rubbing it in your face. "I'm thankful for the weekend, but two days in Heaven just ain't gonna do" says a lot about how he isn't in it for just a one-night stand. This is someone he loves. Maybe it's not quite as classy or as set on the far future as "I'd Love to Lay You Down," but the fact that I'm able to invoke that song at all is proof that he's doing something right. I'm at a total loss as to why he, of all acts, had to be a one-hit wonder -- because he had the goods to go a lot longer. A
May 31: "I'm Still a Guy" by Brad Paisley
I think this song is one of the reasons I came out as non-binary. I've always had a disdain for conventional gender roles, and I'm willing to poke fun and subvert the hell out of them. But just like other forms of comedy, you need to actually remember to write a joke. And this one starts out as a bunch of played-out "battle of the sexes" lines that were even more stale now than they were back at "I'm Gonna Miss Her." Just like with "Online," I don't actually think Brad is the kind of guy who would un-ironically use the word "sissy" or punch someone for hitting on his wife. And while this could just be a rewrite of Alan Jackson's "Work in Progress," it's the last verse that really rubs me the wrong way. You know, the verse where he calls out men who accept more conventionally feminine roles. Again, I don't think Brad is the kind of person who would have called an effeminate man or a transgender person a slur (even in 2008, when trans awareness wasn't a fraction of what it is now), but just the fact that he thought it was okay to write a line about "men linin' up to get neutered" at all is more than a little bit icky to me. C-
I've seen this derided as "Before He Cheats Part II" but I'm not seeing it. If anything, it's Alan Jackson's "I Don't Even Know Your Name" only with the sexes reversed and a more Shania Twain-styled performance. She gets so drunk that she ends up marrying a guy in Vegas without even bothering to find out that much about him. It's kind of gaudy and over-the-top, but damn it, it's fun enough for me not to care. Plus, I like how "I don't even know his last name" becomes "I don't even know my last name" on the final chorus, which is a bit more of a payoff than this kind of song usually gets. Just from "Before He Cheats" to here, you can tell she's gotten a bit better at gruffness, and it works in this song's favor. Songs like this have done wonders to make her feel a lot less like a Stepford wife in my book. B+
This song is one mixed metaphor away from greatness. I like the "I can't settle down" narrative here, and unlike most, I don't feel that Kenny overplayed it. And besides, "my only friends are pirates" is a good twist on his usual beach bum formula. This guy knows his restlessness and self-destructive nature are what's keeping him out of the loop, and he expresses it through a mix of colorful ("I move on like a sinner's prayer") and direct ("I don't want to be that mistake"). It never feels like it's pretentiously propping up the vague, superficial, or exceedingly obvious as if they were deep meaningful truths, unlike "Troubadour" or Rodney Crowell's "The Obscenity Prayer." The vibe is low-key, allowing the mixed emotions to shine. Unfortunately, one line trips up this whole song: the one that begins with "goodbyes are like a roulette wheel" and ends with "left holding a losing hand." That's the most blatant mixed metaphor I've seen in a song since Kathy Mattea's "Clown in Your Rodeo." How did a co-writer who's a music critic never catch that? Oh well, it's just one line; everything else here is great. A-
July 12: "Back When I Knew It All"
by Montgomery Gentry
I never got a sense of machismo from most of MG's songs. It's probably because they take time to reflect and poke fun at themselves, as is the case here. "I'm learning so much more than back when I knew it all" is humorous yet introspective, summarizing this look backward at their past cockiness and current maturity. I also love how Eddie and Troy trade off on the verses, making it sound like two buddies bonding over a conversation. Sure, the guitar riff sounds a little close to "Turn! Turn! Turn!" by the Byrds, but that's a good riff worth drawing inspiration from. I liked this song so much that I once wrote an answer song called "I Never Knew It All." So yeah, I get where these guys are coming from, and I'm here to laugh and think along with them. A
AJ tries to evoke the five-minute "extended mix" line dance novelties of the '90s and pulls it off. This one's got an appropriately gangly shuffle guaranteed to fill dance floors. Sure, it's not the most impressive thing lyrically, but I can relate with "I've been workin' all week and I'm tired, and I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna have fun." (That same mentality keeps me up until 3 AM writing reviews of 15-year-old country songs I haven't heard in ages.) There's also a lot of nuance to the production, thanks in no small part to Brent Mason shredding and chicken-picking the hell out of everything, along with some fiddle, harmonica, jaw harp, and even a talk box! Although some AJ songs are bogged down by over-writing, this one never feels over-long, probably because it's just been so long since he hit with an upbeat number and he sounds like he's having so much fun doing so. (I especially like the heavier bass and sound effects of the "Too Hot to Fish" remix, further evoking all the filigree of those "extended mix" versions.) For having no greater ambition than being the next "Boot Scootin' Boogie," I think he actually beat Brooks & Dunn at their own game by being a lot looser. A-
August 16: "All I Want to Do" by Sugarland
Whether or not you like this song may have a lot to do-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh with how much you're willing to put up with Jennifer's extended melisma. My mom hated when Aaron Tippin did that on "My Blue Angel," but she never had a problem with it here. And I don't mind it, either. It's not trying to be anything more than a lighthearted look at just relaxing after household chores and enjoying the company of your partner. Does that sound fluffy? Yeah, but Jennifer's vocal is on point, and I like the production -- mostly just clicking drum sticks and a guitar figure with a lot of suspended chords. For being a low-stakes ear-worm, it's got a bit more texture than you might think, and is all the better for it. B+
I still think Taylor Swift's debut album is her best. It just had the charm of a talented teenager doing something she was passionate about, and showing a wisdom beyond her years. However, I still consider this song the only weak link on it. Her voice sounds even thinner than usual, with odd phrasing on the word "weakness," not to mention lines like "You should've known that word 'bout what you did with her get back to me" that are as clunky as they are grammatically incorrect. While the production is an interesting mix of country and post-grunge (and surprisingly, not a brick-walled mess unlike Nathan Chapman's more contemporary work), the lyrics and tone (especially how she sings the title) are probably the only time I can describe a country song as sounding "bratty." This was the only time on the album that I actually went "yeah, this is totally a teenager" (well, other than the "I'll tell mine you're gay" line in "Picture to Burn"), and while it may have appealed to the iCarly crowd, I don't think it held much merit beyond that. D
September 6: "You Look Good in My Shirt"
by Keith Urban
I'm still a bit bitter that Love, Pain & the Whole Crazy Thing didn't have any #1 singles on it, because I find that stretch to be his strongest (including the stunningly kinetic "Once in a Lifetime," my personal favorite). But I'll accept this as a consolation prize. The image of a woman waking up in her boyfriend's shirt is a well-worn one (pun intended), but it's one worth repeating. And this song keeps it simple by leaving the verses short (why yes, Mark Nesler did write this), and hinting at how early in the relationship it even is for the two of them: "Maybe it's a little too early to know if this is gonna work / But all I know is you're sure lookin' good in my shirt." The song was originally recorded for his Golden Road album in 2002, but this version is superior by having a more charismatic, playful delivery and slightly tighter production. It's cute, charming, and never over-stays its welcome. Seriously, go buy a copy of Greatest Hits: 19 Kids off Amazon or search up the bootleg upload of this on YouTube, because that seems to be the only way to find this verison. A
September 13: "Do You Believe Me Now"
by Jimmy Wayne
Jimmy Wayne is a fascinating person -- a man who has lived through homelessness and a suicide attempt, and who had a lot of journal entries about the same play a role in his early music. But other than "Kerosene Kid," his life never seemed to come off on record. I get on the surface how he wants to play the "I hope my ex is miserable" narrative à la Chris Cagle's "Miss Me Baby," but to say he sounds more like Dan + Shay in fedoras would still be too nice. When he sings "I knew what I was talkin' about...he's the one that's holdin' you, baby; me, I'm missin' you way across town," you expect the line to end with "milady." It's like only he has the right to tell this woman what she can and can't do, because only he can be right in any situation. You can just hear the scumminess in his voice, and even see it in that stupid haircut. The bloated production doesn't help things either, and it gets almost ear-splitting with the wall of guitars on the chorus. If this had a line about how all humans are worthless except for the ones he wants to have sex with, I'd totally believe Onision wrote it. F
This is yet another case where a sluggish melody drags down an otherwise great song. And it's a shame, because it's one of the only times I've seen "men vs. women" humor played with a sense of self-awareness since The Red Green Show ended. Even in an era where the term "dead mall" was already well-known, the image of a husband waiting for his wife to finish shopping at the mall is relatable. The fact that the old man is amused by his situation shows a degree of sympathy and tolerance that such a setup usually lacks. And it leads to the narrator realizing that he's been doing a lot of "waiting" on his woman, too -- again, without the tiniest bit of cynicism or degradation. I even like the punch line, where he imagines himself up in Heaven waiting for her, which manages to be funny, sweet, and a little sad all at the same time. Given how utterly condescending "Little Moments" was, it's refreshing to see Brad taking a warm and sympathetic tone on similar content. It just could have used a little more seasoning in the melody and production. A-
October 4: "Don't Think I Don't Think About It"
by Darius Rucker
Hootie going country seemed so bizarre, but you listen to "Let Her Cry" and tell me (outside the Michael Stipe name-drop) that's not a country song. This is a little less glossy and free from the "hunger dunger dang" singing, with Darius giving a very charismatic read. That hook is great, and while the rest of the lyrics don't quite measure up -- the shift from "heard you found a real good man and you married him" to "I wonder if sometimes I cross your mind" is particularly jarring -- but the relaxed production and vocals make them seem a lot less stock than they look on paper. While the subtext of this being the first #1 country hit by a Black artist since 1983 is admittedly more fascinating than the song itself, I think it's still an enjoyable enough song on its own merits. B
October 18: "Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven"
by Kenny Chesney feat. the Wailers
I remember some critics back in the day savaging this song for the reggae production, and how mismatched it seemed to the lyric. But I don't see it at all. I haven't heard a song lean that hard into such an influence since, well, "Get into Reggae Cowboy," and the whole concept of relaxing and having fun because "nobody wanna go [to Heaven] now" practically screams "reggae" to me. The song also gets major points for its criticisms of religion. A holier-than-thou preacher tries to nag the narrator into redemption and swindle extra money out of him (instead of coming at him with love and compassion), only to get shot down by the narrator's savage retort. This is probably the sharpest anti-religion country song since "Would Jesus Wear a Rolex." Laid-back, funny, satirical, and distinctly produced all at once, this song finds Kenny laying a whole lot of new ground. A+
November 1: "She Never Cried in Front of Me" by Toby Keith
After a mix of testosterone-fueled swagger ("She's a Hottie"), awkward attempts at sensitivity ("Love Me If You Can"), and outright shitposting (also "She's a Hottie"), Toby Keith is back to one of his formulae that I like the most: the vulnerable male. It's a standard narrative of a man who was too proud and emotionally blind to see he wasn't treating his woman right until he sees her with another man. That "too late" realization is such a staple of country music (e.g., "I See It Now" by Tracy Lawrence), and this one twists the knife a bit further with the line "if she ever did cry for me / They were tears that you can't see." Sometimes emotional damage is harder to read, and I like that this song acknowledges that. You can tell he's torn up about wanting to un-ring that bell, knowing full well he can't. Literally the only thing I can knock this song for is the overly loud production, which sounds like a hair metal ballad and threatens to undercut Toby's consistently strong voice. But other than that, this is a damn good song that I'm surprised didn't stick around longer. A-
November 8: "Just a Dream" by Carrie Underwood
This one gets full marks out of the gate for its concept alone. After the first half of the decade was swamped with cartoonishly pandering jingoism, we started getting songs about the soldiers themselves and the impact their lives have -- whether they return with PTSD ("I Just Came Back from a War") or don't return at all ("If I Don't Make It Back"). This one twists things even further, starting out sounding like it's about a bride headed to her wedding -- only to drop the revelation that the husband-to-be died in combat. I love the details of her putting a sixpence in her shoe, and the military salute feeling "like a bullet in her heart." It's all clever but never feels manipulative or contrived; this is a story line I can believe actually happened. Carrie's voice is already a lot more nuanced by this point, finding times to restrain herself before amping back up, and the "dreamy" production keeps up with her. That one long "just a dream" drawn out at the end feels a lot less like an "impress the Idol judges" long note and more like a scream of frustration from the woman in the song. Great stuff. A
November 22: "Love Story" by Taylor Swift
Can we please stop using Romeo and Juliet as a metaphor for love, unless the actual interpretation you're going for is "they rushed into things and both paid the price"? To be fair, she tries to balance it out with another reference to The Scarlet Letter, but that only feels even more disjointed. And to be even fairer, I don't think I was that good at literary analysis at age 19; hell, I don't think I'm that good at it now. I do genuinely like the banjo-heavy production mixed with the poppy hook, showing that Taylor was clearly from the Chicks/Shania school of "add pop without subtracting country" at the time. There's really nothing that memorable about the boy-meets-girl narrative, making it feel like a step down from the cleverness of songs such as "Tim McGraw" or "Our Song." Overall, it's not really good or bad, just kind of forgettable. C+
December 6: "Chicken Fried" by Zac Brown Band
Just from the sound alone, I knew these guys had something special. Acoustic and organic at a time when it wasn't popular, and even risking a few stretches of a cappella for good measure, the arrangement alone makes this song. Admittedly, the lyrics aren't much when you actually bother to listen to them -- the chorus is a list of random unconnected things, and the verses touch on Southern stereotypes like sweet tea and America -- but there are flashes of something different here. In particular, I really dig the line "there's no dollar sign on peace of mind." I honestly didn't expect this to be nearly a tenth the hit it was, especially because I was one of the few people not to actually hear the far less remarkable Lost Trailers version before it got pulled from radio. I certainly didn't expect it to be one of the biggest hits of the entire decade (nine times platinum) and the start of an interesting career. It's not a fantastic song, but I'd say the pluses out weigh the minuses here enough for me to say its legacy is at least somewhat justifiable. B
Just like "Roll with Me," MG are doing a great job taking stock of their lives. I never had trouble following the hook "maybe it's time to be livin' a rhyme / when I'm singin' a song about nothin' but right," as clunky as it may look typed out. It's nice to hear a lyric about settling down, and how the motivation to do so is the transience of life after witnessing one taken away prematurely -- a lyric that hits all the harder after the death of Troy Gentry. The production is gentle and relaxed, and it's a bit more harmonious than usual thanks to Five for Fighting joining in on the vocals. (And in a way, it does feel like a pleasant complement to his own "100 Years.") And if you want to live your best life, why not have someone to share it with? It's a shame this one (and their career) fizzled out so quickly, because they were really on a roll. A
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
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+
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+
Joe Diffie had aknack 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
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-
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+
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+
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-
