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Mud on the Tires
Mud on the Tires in Bloomington, MN
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Ever since 1999,
Brad Paisley
has been touted by some critics and fans as
new traditionalist
country
's great hope. Blessed with good looks, good taste, and a nice twang in his voice,
Paisley
could have gone pure
country-pop
but decided to stick fairly close to his roots and play a nice amalgam of
honky tonk
,
Western swing
, and
pop
. It was straight out of the
George Strait
handbook, but it was nicely done on his first two records, particularly compared to a crop of new artists who seemed anxious to gun for the big hit.
never seemed that desperate for chart success; he took it easy, so any sales seemed to be the side effect of his easygoing charm. That, along with his exceptional taste, garnered critical favor and a nice, dedicated base of fans, but his third album, 2003's
Mud on the Tires
, is where some cracks in the facade are revealed. It's not that it's a bad album, because it isn't. Far from it, actually -- it's a really good record, boasting a set of songs that are arguably his most consistent and illustrating
's capable grasp on a wide variety of styles and sounds, from
and
to plaintive
bluegrass
country-folk
, and even
novelties
. These are all the things that have made
such a hot commodity among those listeners who prize
traditionalism
in
music (which, let's face it, most
fans do).
With his crackerjack band, featuring guitarist
Redd Volkaert
and bassist
Kevin "Swine" Grantt
, he sounds good, reverent, and muscular, recalling classic
in a way that will be appealing to most listeners, whether they prefer
George Jones
or
. No, the cracks in the facade do not lie in the sound of the music -- it's in the feel and flavor of the music.
suffers from a near-terminal cutesiness that undercuts his music, making even good moments seem a little affected. And this cutesiness just flows from every other song on the record. There's the hit single
"Celebrity,"
where he "skewers" celebrity hijinks in a way that suggests nothing but the "wacky" video that's sure to accompany it. There's
"Ain't Nothin' Like,"
a paean to simple pleasures boasting one of the shrillest kid's chorus ever committed to tape. Then, there's
"Spaghetti Western Swing,"
primarily a showcase for
Volkaert
, but burdened with an awful mock radio play written by
and performed by
Little Jimmy Dickens
Bill Anderson
. There are the homespun "truths" on
"That's Love"
(as in, "That ain't a lie/That's love") that operate on the same level as
Tracy Byrd
's
"The Truth About Men,"
only without the conviction to be truly silly. The
Byrd
comparison is a good one --
has more musical muscle and a better band than
, but he lacks the spirit; he seems to be putting on a show, and that affectation keeps his music from digging as deep as it should. On the surface,
is a fine, satisfying listen, but to truly live up to the mantle that's been bestowed upon him,
had better start adding substance to his admittedly fetching style. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine
Brad Paisley
has been touted by some critics and fans as
new traditionalist
country
's great hope. Blessed with good looks, good taste, and a nice twang in his voice,
Paisley
could have gone pure
country-pop
but decided to stick fairly close to his roots and play a nice amalgam of
honky tonk
,
Western swing
, and
pop
. It was straight out of the
George Strait
handbook, but it was nicely done on his first two records, particularly compared to a crop of new artists who seemed anxious to gun for the big hit.
never seemed that desperate for chart success; he took it easy, so any sales seemed to be the side effect of his easygoing charm. That, along with his exceptional taste, garnered critical favor and a nice, dedicated base of fans, but his third album, 2003's
Mud on the Tires
, is where some cracks in the facade are revealed. It's not that it's a bad album, because it isn't. Far from it, actually -- it's a really good record, boasting a set of songs that are arguably his most consistent and illustrating
's capable grasp on a wide variety of styles and sounds, from
and
to plaintive
bluegrass
country-folk
, and even
novelties
. These are all the things that have made
such a hot commodity among those listeners who prize
traditionalism
in
music (which, let's face it, most
fans do).
With his crackerjack band, featuring guitarist
Redd Volkaert
and bassist
Kevin "Swine" Grantt
, he sounds good, reverent, and muscular, recalling classic
in a way that will be appealing to most listeners, whether they prefer
George Jones
or
. No, the cracks in the facade do not lie in the sound of the music -- it's in the feel and flavor of the music.
suffers from a near-terminal cutesiness that undercuts his music, making even good moments seem a little affected. And this cutesiness just flows from every other song on the record. There's the hit single
"Celebrity,"
where he "skewers" celebrity hijinks in a way that suggests nothing but the "wacky" video that's sure to accompany it. There's
"Ain't Nothin' Like,"
a paean to simple pleasures boasting one of the shrillest kid's chorus ever committed to tape. Then, there's
"Spaghetti Western Swing,"
primarily a showcase for
Volkaert
, but burdened with an awful mock radio play written by
and performed by
Little Jimmy Dickens
Bill Anderson
. There are the homespun "truths" on
"That's Love"
(as in, "That ain't a lie/That's love") that operate on the same level as
Tracy Byrd
's
"The Truth About Men,"
only without the conviction to be truly silly. The
Byrd
comparison is a good one --
has more musical muscle and a better band than
, but he lacks the spirit; he seems to be putting on a show, and that affectation keeps his music from digging as deep as it should. On the surface,
is a fine, satisfying listen, but to truly live up to the mantle that's been bestowed upon him,
had better start adding substance to his admittedly fetching style. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine
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