Steve Earle and I Are Fighting: a Review of So You Wanna Be An Outlaw

by Robert Dean

I wanted to start this review talking shit about Steve Earle. I really, really wanted to. He talked trash on Oasis, which offends me because I’m an Oasis fanboy. To wit, I will take my jab by saying Steve’s theme for The Wire is unlistenable. It’s so awful, it makes every fiber of my being weep with sadness; to say it sucks would be a blessing because it’s so terrible; it’s almost as bad as the abortion that is the theme to Justified. (Different topic, but whoever green-lit that song for such a great show is a complete asshole.)

Ok, so I got that off my chest. But, this ain’t about Steve Earle’s distaste for excellent Britpop, nor his terrible theme song rendition, it’s about his new record, So You Wanna Be An Outlaw. And like I said, I wanted to dislike it, I couldn’t. It’s pretty damn solid.

Steve Earle is a workaholic road dog, and that’s worthy of anyone’s respect. After pumping out an impressive 16 records, you’d think the guy would be phoning it in by now, but nope. The guy who refuses to get a haircut is writing better record than anyone on pop country radio.


So You Wanna Be An Outlaw is a collection of songs that range from bummer country ballads to dirty rock and roll foot stompers. It's good to feel the tangibility of the record and see that the dude is still empowered by his craft.

"The Firebreak Line" sounds like it could pour out of any honky tonk from Austin to Memphis where folks two-step to bands playing for beer money, which is exactly what you want out of a Steve Earle record. While his slow jams are quality, Earle is at best when he’s going for it, playing fast, lighting a match.

The Dukes are definitely on their A game in this instance and deliver the goods for each track on the record. "Fixin’ to Die" is bold, filthy and feels more Jack White inspired than anything else on the record, which all told, would be a refreshing combination were it to happen. The spirit of "Fixin’ to Die" doesn’t feel constrained, but loose and almost like a driving rockabilly-cum-snake handling preacher warning the world of its transgressions.




Say what you want about Steve Earle, he’s effective when he’s playing the role of soothsayer, preacher of the madness, the bringer of truths – he’s had that knack for over thirty years, and that’s when he’s at his best. There are no throwaway tracks on So You Wanna Be An Outlaw, which says a lot about the band’s mindset going into the project. Instead of writing a record to use an excuse to hit the road, the songs feel vital, and personal, which bodes well for audiences who’ll head out to see the shows. There’s an underlying attitude, and it’s obvious Earle went into this record with an ear to the ground of what the slices of America feel right now, red and blue states, included.

All in all, the record is solid. So You Wanna Be An Outlaw is absolutely worth a few spins and maybe hitting a show for. You can’t go wrong with Steve Earle firing on all cylinders but damn him, for liking Blur better than Oasis.

You and me, Steve. We’re fighting.
----------

So You Wanna Be An Outlaw is available is all the usual spots.

Texas Songwriter Under Fire for Song About Missouri

A Texas singer-songwriter is facing backlash for writing and recording a song that isn't about Texas. Lubbock artist Wells Barton says he's had his current single, "She's Like Laredo,"  pulled from most Texas radio stations and he's been ridiculed on social media for the album cut "White River Hills," which chronicles a romance in the Missouri Ozarks.

"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.

New Video: Blackberry Smoke "Like an Arrow"

The title track of their 2016 album.

An Unfunny Joke

Happy 80th Birthday Waylon!

Single Review: Lee Brice "Boy"

By Jonny Brick

Two of the finest songs of the last decade are I Don’t Dance and I Drive Your Truck. The former has been played on Spotify alone 67m times, the latter a mere 24m times. The voice of Lee Brice, sort of like Tim McGraw’s (in fact a lot like the voice of Tim McGraw), carries both of those songs.

Much like "My Old Man," the new Zac Brown song which does this without programmed drums and synths, this song is another to be found in the sub-genre of Dad/Son-country. It could also be a message to young writers seduced by the headlights of modern country; head to the trunk, where’s there is gold to be found in mining the human condition.

We have a while to wait for the album, self-titled (like Tim McGraw’s first album) and out in November. Tim is on tour this year, still plugging Damn Country Music, which contains "Humble & Kind," a song written by a mum to her kids but sung by Tim, a dad of three.

Musically there are two magical moments in Boy: Lee’s little chuckle in the second verse after the word ‘stubborn,’ and the slide guitar sound before the sombre final chorus which ends on the line ‘run like he’s bulletproof and total a car, too.’ Country must realise that, above other genres, it puts family first, rather than the act of making babies.

"Boy" is thus one of those ‘advice’ songs country music offers (some star or other has just put one out called "Speak to a Girl"). It’s a song from a dad to his son, who will ‘always be my boy’ even if he is genetically programmed to repeat the mistakes of his dad. The middle eight is tender, as the dad feels sorry that his son is off – on his gap year? To NYU? To fight for his country?

Lee is a father-of-two, soon to be a father-of-three, and he must have seized on this song when it was sent to him for consideration. "Boy" was written by Nicolle Galyon (Automatic, It Ain’t Pretty) and Jon Nite (Strip It Down, We Were Us, Think a Little Less). It’s a winner, and an example of what contemporary songwriters in Nashville can do when they step off the tailgate.

After five years of drinking beer, cruising and eating a catfish dinner, country music is hopefully waking up to what Chris Young would call a Sober Saturday Night. If it lasts a few years, so much the better for top quality songs about real things coming out of Music Row and given the confidence to make headway into the charts and people’s playlists.

8/10