Friday Song Revisited: Carrie's on top!

Earlier this week, radio trade numbers showed an amazing accomplishment for our latest American Idol, Carrie Underwood. Her double-platinum debut CD, Some Hearts, has now broken all sales records for winners of this popular star-making show. The best part Carrie's success is that she did it her way, based on her own strengths. Here's what I wrote about her breakout single, Jesus Take the Wheel, last month:

A few days ago, Larry King asked Carrie Underwood where she got her big break. I'm pretty sure she mentioned the thirty-million-plus audience who saw her win American Idol somewhere in her answer. Kelly Clarkson has ridden her first place to huge success; and country singer/ex-Marine Josh Gracin (fourth-place winner) is now an established chart-topper. I can't vouch for Rubin and Clay (who basically tied the year they won), but if you win the Idol competition you have at least an excellent shot at stardom.

The difference with Carrie U. is that she is doing it her way. Her first big single is driving up the charts now, and it's a surprising winner. Idol fans expect a lot of Whitney Houston from their darlings. They'll have a long wait from Underwood. Her idol, vocally, is obviously Martina McBride. And Martina is all Country. Based on Carrie's first release, she's all Country, too. The big guns behind the Idol machine may be a bit miffed, but music is music in the end. And a gold record is the same color in all formats.

Underwood's single, Jesus Take the Wheel, rolls right down the middle of the Country road (if you'll pardon the obvious metaphor). Strict three-verse structure, strong hook, and soothing chords run the show. Lyrically, this song rings a strong Christian ballad bell. Wheel is an inspirational story about a young, single Mom whose car (and life) is out of control. (Read the title again now.) Underwood, however, takes these staid standards and loads in her stunning vocal power. You don't have to be a Sunday-steady or a Country die-hard to love this record. You will fall in love with Carrie, though, if you listen for just a couple refrains. She is the real deal, regardless of where her big break came from.

Jesus Take the Wheel will do well despite its potentially narrow audience. The enormous exposure provided by the glittering American Idol stage makes Carrie Underwood's name familiar and opens all the right doors. The rest is up to Ms. Underwood. She is young, strong, appealing, and oh-so talented. No reason for comparisons of Carrie to Martina to be embarrassing to Ms. McBride at all. Carrie may not be exactly what Idol had in its pop-oriented mind, but I believe that she will do them proud. She'll do it her way, and you will like it, even if you don't like American Idol. Carrie can take that to the bank.

No, I'm not a... XXL, But that's Friday's Song!

You can't really tell from my Profile pic, but I'm not a "big" guy. I'm tall, but not much sticks to my ribs. Been that way since I was a kid. My oldest son, Austin, seems to have been cloned from the same genes. He's fourteen this week (Happy Birthday!) and already about five-ten. He might weigh a hundred thirty, maybe. So, what's his favorite song? His absolute #1 pick for "turn it up, Dad!" is Keith Anderson's XXL. Go figure. I'm giving in to his excellent taste in country music, then, and serving up a double-ex-el helping for this Friday's song. Sometimes you just hafta humor your kids, you know.

I'm not saying this song isn't worthy. Don't get me wrong there. It's catchy as all hell, got a great beat, and you can jam along while you're driving. Let me be clear, though: this song is about BIG guys. Verse by verse, the singer gets bigger and bigger. Fifth grade he's wearing a size twelve shoe. By eighth grade the coaches have him playin' high school football. This guy came out of the womb huge and got larger from there. I just can't relate. At all. Even Keith Anderson can't really relate, himself. He may be some kind of crowd-pleasing hunky country singer, but he's no XXL, either. He comes from a "big" family, he says. He was the smallest. So the song's a tribute to oversize guys. That's cool.

In a recent interview Anderson explained the roots of his latest and hottest release. The lyrics first emerged shortly after 9/11's tragic events. Keith was talking to another song-writer and observed that many of our new "heroes" were regular Joe's: big ol' beefy firefighters and cops. He wondered if he couldn't come up with something lighter in tribute to those men. With a light-hearted, humorous approach to those regular heroes, XXL glorifies those who outweigh the competition. Okay, even though I can't really relate, this is a rockin' tune that has to be doing very well in the honky-tonks. It's just good, clean fun!

There's a lyric in the refrain that we have to talk about. Each verse describes the increasing poundage of the singer, as well as the wonderful effects his excess size has on his life. The refrain, modified just a little each time, goes something like this:

Oooh glbblegwobble Baby, I'm a double-ex-el!

What's that word in there, you may ask? It's not a word at all--it's a sound. Remember when you were a kid and you tried to make the sound of a referee's whistle, but you didn't have a whistle? Or maybe: you know the sound you make when you step outside and it's really cold, and you sort of say, "brrrrrrrrrr," but it's not actually a word? That's the lyric. Austin gets the biggest kick out of that. Now I can admit it; so do I. That one sound makes the whole song great. You have to hear it to believe me. There you have it.

Friday Song: Paisley-style

This week's Friday Song is from an artist who's long overdue, Brad Paisley. I hereby vote every song he's ever done for this slot! Not really, of course; that wouldn't be fair. But the guy had FIVE nominations for last month's CMA Awards and received exactly ZERO awards. How bizarre is that? Paisley is one of the five or six most talented male artists in Country music, and can't get and network TV recognition. He said, sincerely, that he would have been surprised to receive a major award this year because he's "new." Or something like that. Okay, there's humble, then there's too humble! I'll come back to that, but let's put just one song from Mr. Humble up for the Friday Song: When I Get Where I'm Going (with Dolly Parton singing in duet).

When I Get Where I'm Going is one of those enchanting, moving country songs which feels like a classic the first time you hear it. Where Brad's going is "up," figuratively as well as literally. Yup, it's a song about going to Heaven, and the singer is pretty sure he's bound to end up there. First he'll ride a raindrop, or run his hands through a lion's mane. He'll go searching for his grandfather, who's waiting there for him. Sounds a little hokey, but it doesn't come off that way. The lyrics are so sincere, without being maudlin, that you can't help but smile at the imagery there. You may not believe that you will end up meeting St. Peter when you go, but you believe the hero in this song will make it. He doesn't even testify to his good deeds or anything otherwise worthy, but you can feel it in his voice. He's a good guy who cares about the right things.

The real kick rides in on the final verse. There, Paisley sits down and lets Ms. Parton lead the vocals into an incredible high. Brad doesn't seem to mind sharing the spotlight with acclaimed vocalists; he seems to seek that kind of musical magic that can only be achieved when talented singers blend their voices. The guy certainly isn't insecure about his place in Nashville. Last year Paisley knocked listeners out with a haunting duet featuring Allison Krause (Whiskey Lullaby, which did win at least two major awards). Parton's high-altitude harmonies set this sweet, simple tune on a higher plateau. Heavenly, you might say.

Brad Paisley knows how to have some good fun, too. His Celebrity video featured Jason Alexander, William Shatner (as Simon Cowell, essentially), and Little Jimmie Dickens. Furthermore, the whole song poked fun at success for those without talent. As if Brad would ever fit that category! Mud on the Tires, title cut from last year's CD, was a good, old-fashioned country-roads-are-good-for-lovin' song. Been done before, for sure, but not quite the way Paisley did it. Could've been a Chevy commercial and earned him millions. But the video was completely irreverent, showing clips and stills from some major music fest that suffered from monsoon rains. Mud everywhere, especially on the girls. Then there's the scene where two voluptuous babes end up mud-wrestling in a splendid parody of a recent beer commercial. Brad Paisley knows how to deliver all the goods: happy, sad, funny, poignant, petty or powerful. I'm sure his next release will be something cute and lightweight, just to balance off When I Get Where I'm Going. I'll love that one, too.

You'll see music from Brad Paisley nominated here again, without question. I'm sure Brad will win some real awards, in the meantime. I think he's appearing on the Grammy Awards shortly. Maybe he'll even get one. He more than deserves one.

Tuesday Trivia: Dramatic Music

Watching ER the other night, we noticed a scene in which one character proposes marriage to another. The setting was a tense operating room; the guy was standing in the viewing gallery, yelling through the glass to his intended. She was gloved and gowned and elbow-deep in a patient's abdomen. At least three other doctors or nurses surrounded her, as well. Not very romantic. But it was romantic, for us as viewers. Why? Because of the perfect music laid over the scene by the foley editor. We all know that music sets the mood; I wrote a bit about that last month. But what if there was no music? For the actors playing the scene, it didn't exist. And there's never any music in my life when I need it, either.

Imagine if we all had our own full-time foley editors, 24-7, helping to guide us through our litttle trials and tribulations. (What is a tribulation, anyway??) We are so accustomed to having that mood-music accompany every dramatic moment in movies and television, it seems only appropriate that we should have the same luxury in real life. Like that great ING commercial, where the guy is strolling down the street with his own theme music. But we have no music, except in the rarest times. Like when you're on a date with your new love and the perfect love song plays and you can actually ask her to dance and you do, dance, and that song becomes your song because from there you fall ever deeper in love and that song is always the one you get to dance to together. Otherwise, that never happens, does it?

We don't have our own music. Movies invented that, to make the scenes work regardless of how weak the dialogue was. We accept that about dramas, and probably don't even register the fact most of the time. I wonder, though, if it bothers us in our real lives, without our even realizing it, that our own important moments are never accompanied by an orchestra. Does this missing music somehow muck-up our daily lives? How do we know when we're doing it right? That the words we are saying perfectly express our intentions. Or worse yet, do we sometimes go down the basement stairs in the dark and not realize the incredible danger there, because there aren't any scary dis-chords? I lie awake some nights worrying about stuff like this. Don't you?

Boondocks on a Friday night

You get a line, I'll get a pole... we'll go listen to Little Big Town harmonize about the Boondocks at the crawfish hole. Well, we could, if this hip/hick quartet wasn't very busy opening for Keith Urban around the country. This Friday's song choice has hit Billboard's Top Twenty (Country) for all the right reasons. It has taken LBT seven years and three record deals to get here; it takes all four vocalists to carry us on this foot-tapping ride down in the boondocks. Kimberly Roads, Karen Fairchild, Phillip Sweet and Jimi Westbrook deliver all the flavor of country roads and rural livin' with their powerful harmonies and picture-this lyrics.

Boondocks shoves a solid patch of country back into Country music, at a time when mainstream artists are recording more sophisticated, often somber or sensual ballads. Earlier this year Jason Aldean led the way with his tongue-in-cheek Hicktown ("you can see the neighbor's butt-crack/nailin' on the shingles/his woman's smokin' Pall-Malls/watchin' Laura Ingalls"!). Credit Gretchen Wilson for opening the barn door to hipness for hick, with her smash #1 single Redneck Woman. Finally it's okay to leave the mud on your 4x4 when you go to the grocery store. LBT's gritty video for their latest release puts it all together. Close your eyes and you can still hear the crickets, the slammin' screen doors, the grinding clutch on that old Ford pick-up, and bare feet slapping boards at the barn dance. Somebody pass me a washboard and a workglove!

There's a chorus missing, however, from the band's video. You have to listen to Boondocks on the radio to hear it. The lines I'll quote next start out softly with a single lead vocal and gradually builds to an eerie round before the music fades. Believe me, once you let these lyrics into your brain they'll stick around until you finally decide to grab your gear and head south. Here's that chorus:

You get a line / I'll get a pole / We'll go fishin' / In the crawfish hole / Five-card poker on a Saturday night / Church on Sunday mornin'

Follow the post-title link if you'd like to know more about Little Big Town and their newfound success. Me, I ain't much for fishin' but you can deal the cards and count me in for Saturday night.

Big Blue Note for Friday's Song

This week's song is sad and fun. Toby Keith's newest release, Big Blue Note, reads like a sad ol' lost-my-honey but doesn't sound weepy at all. That's what makes Blue such a good listen. Toby's tag-line, "she's gone," has appeared in no less than a half-dozen tunes in the last couple years. This time, though, it's an oh-well-that's-life kind of lament. I can picture the guy in the story with his feet up on a nearby chair and a cold beer in one hand, big blue good-bye note on the table serving as a cocktail napkin.

I'm not a big TK fan, but I like this song very much. Keith has been on a bar-hoppin' whiskey drinkin' flag-wavin' good-old-boy track for the past few months. He's had enormous success with these records, to the point where some of his older (in my opinion, better) arrangements no longer fit into radio playlists. I'll take My List (2001?) over I Love This Bar or Whiskey Girl every time. Now I'll settle for Big Blue Note, just for the pleasure of it. The song's tone is whimsical and wistful but not maudlin. One of the verses describes the singer folding his Dear-John letter into a paper airplane and sending it aloft. If it doesn't come back, then, well, she's gone. Nice light touch, and a good visual metaphor, too. If Keith wrote this one (he writes much of his material, but I haven't checked yet), he did a fine job of it.

I'm sure Keith's next release will have something to do with hot women drinking alcohol and blessing America in a neighborhood bar. (Toby has opened a small chain of saloons in the South.) Until then, I'll keep an ear out for Big Blue Note on my favorite Country station, just because it makes me smile. That's good enough for me. Feeling fine and singing along while I'm driving let's the day's stresses melt right out of my bones. And since I get to listen for free, that's priceless.

[Author's note: I listen to CMT in the background when I'm posting. Less than one minute after I pressed "Publish Post," as if in affirmation of my choice, the video for Big Blue Note came on. I hadn't seen it yet, so I turned to watch. The pictures fit the whimsy of the song perfectly. Songwriters, by the way, are Scotty Emerick and Toby Keith. As expected. Nice job, boys.]

Friday Song: Strait shootin'

It's Friday again, and time for my Friday Song nomination. This week I'm going to backtrack slightly to mention the latest release from George Strait (the Chairman of the Board, Country music). Mr. Strait generally has no less than one song working its way up the Billboard Top 100, and this month is no exception. What is exceptional is this record's message. The song's called "She Let Herself Go," which superficially might seem to be another sad ol' country ballad. This one has a bit of love-gone-wrong in it, but steers immediately toward a happy ending. We don't know for sure who "she" is, but we do find out just how far she has let herself go: to New York City, to Vegas, to the beach, to a new adventure with a new friend. She's doin' just fine, thank ya. But what is a man doing singing this song? It's exactly what we might expect from Terri Clark or Jo Dee Messina, or maybe Reba or Martina. The fact that Mr. Strait chose this composition for himself makes this up-beat Anthem for a Modern Woman all the more compelling.

Country music is filled with songs by men whose ladies left them, and likewise by tunes from girls whose guys have done 'em wrong. It's all very familiar, even comfortable. When the man who sets the bar for male country vocalists releases a powerful work in support of women he shakes up that comfy familiarity. Strait isn't breaking any new ground here. There has been a real trend lately for established artists to tackle more difficult subjects from fresher angles. Kenny Chesney has done a superb job during the last couple years, tempering his Unkle Kracker combo with some solid social messages. It's refreshing to see Mr. 50-Number-Ones (the title of Strait's current CD) join the movement. Strait's voice lends credibility and repectability to whatever "cause" he might choose to sing about. She Let Herself Go reminds us all that life can bring us good things on the heels of bad times, whatever the circumstances. That's a good thing to remember when you feel like your own life is stuck in a bad groove on a worn-out record.

Tuesday Trivia: Music miscellany

I was thinking about "one-hit wonders" and wondering what happens to artists who don't keep it coming. Then I got off-track a bit, listening to my favorite radio station ("The Bee, WBEE" here in Rochester NY: see Links, at right). A new song came on, one I had only heard once before, a week or so ago. It's a catchy little number by Ray Scott (new to me, never heard of him). His song's called My Kind of Music. The gist of it is, he meets the "perfect" girl, got the ring picked out and all, until he finds out... She doesn't like country music!

The best verse in this song goes something like this:
(almost, but not quite, to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer")
I asked her if she'd ever heard of Alan Jackson.
She said, "doesn't he sing that 'Where Were You?'?"
I said, yeah, but girl, that man's a living legend!
She said, "Really, I thought he was new."

I can relate to this verse from both sides of the coin. Five years ago I knew almost nothing about country music. I was pretty sure I didn't like it. At the time, I had no idea just how "country" some of my favorite artists were: bands like The Eagles and Lynyrd Skynyrd and such. A couple of pretty serious life changes led me to change my entire music-listening concept, and I ended up very much caught up in modern country music. Not the older stuff, which still seems way too twangy. I started with the obvious crossover artists like Faith Hill and Lonestar, and got deeper into it from there. I have to admit that until 9/11 and "Where Were You?" I didn't really know who Alan Jackson was. Now I can only laugh at the verse I quoted above, thinking about how ignorant I was then. If you want to get me started, ask me about Allison Kraus and Union Station... man, they are just amazing!

Which brings me back to Trivia, the long way around. You wondered where all this was leading, didn't you? Here's my question: Is Rap and Hip-Hop really as bad as I think it is? Or am I just as ignorant about these genres as I was about Country? Twenty years from now will there be "Oldies" stations playing Kill the White Bitches and Gang-rape your Motha? Will there be a whole slew of dudes with -daddy attached to their names in some sort of Hall of Fame? Will The Game Show Network play "Name That Tune" in three F-bombs or less? Should I just go ahead and let my little boys (well, not so little anymore...) listen to this, um, crap? Or is it genius? So tell me, and be honest, do I sound just like my father when I tell my kids, "That's not real music!"? Is this just one more example of the Circle of Life swinging 'round to bite me in the ass?

This week's song: with a Trace

Friday's here and it's time to choose my Friday Song. It's been such a hectic week that I haven't given much thought to this crucial decision. I know that thousands of citizens are waiting with bated (spelled?) breath (whatever that means) for me to make up my mind. As it happens, I had a song in mind as I began to write this post, and had CMT's Top Twenty Countdown playing on the television for background. The next song up turns out to be the one I was thinking about. How's that for serendipity? Or something.

This week's selection, then is Honky-tonk Badonkadonk, by Trace Adkins. Last Friday's song was a poignant one, so irreverence takes the award this week. I can't say that I had ANY clue what a "badonkadonk" was until Trace explained it to me (and the video leaves absolutely no question about it, by the way). Adkins has written some serious stuff in the past, and some funny ones, too. His basso-profundo voice works well with an assortment of styles. But this song. This song! No message, no tears, no lost girlfriends, no forgotten soldiers -- not even a pick-up truck or a gun in there anywhere. This little bar-buster is all about the badonkadonk, and only that. (For the uninformed: a female backside, scantily clad). It's a hard-drivin' foot-stompin' tune designed with the lascivious video director in mind. It's catchy, silly, trashy. And it's got a good beat and ya can dance to it, too! Badonkadonk is also more fun than a man should be allowed to have legally. I'm sure Gretchen Wilson ("Redneck Woman" and more) is rightly proud of Trace's latest.

There you have it. Just some good, clean, sexy fun for this week. What more can we ask for? Readers, let me know if you have a song you love in the current Country music scene. Sharing can be fun, too.

of Music and Memory

Thinking about music and specific songs leads me to a topic that fascinates me: music and memory. We are all familiar with the idea of couples having one special song -- "our song." That's almost always a piece that began playing when the lovers first met (or it was a tune that neither had heard until they got together). Researchers have made much of the link between music and evocative memories. I've done a bit of reading on this phenomenon, as well as having plenty of personal experience with it. We all know the power of music is real, but the question remains: why is that so?

If you listen to the radio, or to your iPod (or CD player or your Victrola -- whichever), then you've probably noticed that there's a lot more to the mind/music link than just "they're playing our song!" Most of us can recognize songs we like (familiar pieces from a genre we favor) in just a few short notes. You may not be able to "name that tune" or even be sure who the artist is. Many people simply don't feel like storing that information. But you know the song right away. Furthermore, if there's a stronger bond for you (beyond "Dude, I love this song!"), you can immediately gather up a whole batch of associated memories with that record. You may recall exactly where you were when you first heard it, who you were with at the time, whether you were driving or lounging, if it was summer or winter (even daytime or nighttime). If you pay attention to those memories, you'll probably find even more! A certain scent or aroma that links up, too, for instance. You might also remember if you were happy or sad at the time. The point is, given just a few notes from a familiar song, you can lay your hands on an enormous wealth of very clear memories -- even if those memories are decades old! If there is a long-lost love involved, those memories can be downright profound.

Being the curious guy that I am, I'd like to know why! In addition, given this powerful memory tool, why don't we use music to reinforce learning? It certainly has worked for PBS educational programming, so why not in school? Or in workplace training, or adult education? We know that rote learning and dreary practice do get results in classroom situations. Could music somehow make the process better, faster, and funner? I wonder.

Song of the Week

I don't have any traditions here yet, since this blog is only a couple days old. I have something of a new love in my life, however, and I'd like to include that passion here. My new love is Country Music. I came to this genre very reluctantly, after years of mainstream rock. Now I'm hooked. So, here's my easy "count-down" for my favorite music -- one week, one song:

SKIN, by Rascal Flatts. This tune is roaring up the charts, with unprecedented request levels. It was a so-called hidden track, discovered by thousands of Rascals who bought the album (CD?). I'll leave it to the pro's for a regular review; the song is now receiving serious attention. Simply stated, this is a beautiful, touching, sad-and-happy, uplifting composition. Based on reality, never intended for wide release, this record has captured the hearts of tens of thousands of listeners, and not just in the Country genre. I have no personal connection to this song's message, yet it never fails to move me when I hear it played. That's my song of the week, one that will be hard to top next time.

If you stumble across this posting, and would like to nominate a song you love, drop me a comment. For now, country music (contemporary) only, please.