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All those time signature changes…
Much mellower than I was expecting…
This guy this album, I’m The Problem. Pretty fine songwriter. Album is no.1 on country charts all over the world. Can’t remember the last time I listened to 4 consecutive songs this good and this deep on a double album (tracks 31-34). Not this century.
Here’s 33-34, neither written by Wallen.
Always watch out for the crazy eyes… ![]()
Young guys.
Moths to a flame.
The lucky bastards.
Reminds me of me dear old uncle, a shiftless alcoholic layabout working in a dog food factory in Hot Springs living in a shack with no electricity or running water next to my dear old grandma’s place (where I was stayed that summer when I was 18, and did have those luxuries). My Grandma had a Depression mentality and wanted solid real estate of her own, so she bought this house cheap in the middle of an all-black neighborhood. My uncle, who’d grown up in the wilds of Magnet Cove, little backwoods all-white town in the heart of pine country, where the biggest industry was the local sawmill, came home one night drunk after a hard day in the dog food factory, and started yelling out the windows about niggers. Look, he was a really cool guy when he was sober, but he had a serious problem when he had a bit too much. I was a kid and cowered in my room, to my eternal embarassment, while my grandma hushed him back inside.
Both of my grandmas were from this generation, white sharecroppers in the South who endured the Depression. This is one of the three songs that never fail to bring a tear to my eye.