In just two years, Thomas Rhett has established himself as one of country music’s most successful – and divisive – new artists. The son of country star Rhett Akins, who had a string of hits in the mid-1990s (including the No 1 hit Don’t Get Me Started) and now writes smashes for the likes of Blake Shelton and Luke Bryan, Thomas Rhett grew up surrounded by industry powerhouses – and has thus dealt with accusations of nepotism since his arrival to the Nashville mainstream. But the singer has lately carved out a career of his own.
Rhett began scoring songwriting cuts in 2010, when Jason Aldean recorded I Ain’t Ready to Quit, and has since written songs for the likes of Florida Georgia Line (Round Here) and Lee Brice (Parking Lot Party). In October 2013, Rhett released his debut album, It Goes Like This, which spawned three No 1 singles, including the especially unfortunate track Get Me Some of That, whose refrain begins: “You’re shaking that moneymaker.” If you’re getting a distinctly bro-ish vibe from Rhett’s musical output and his frequent collaborators, that’s unsurprising. He’s been a figurehead of the much-discussed “bro-country” movement that has dominated the sound of country radio, transforming it into a macho hook-up soundtrack, in recent years.
Recently, Rhett has made a special point of communicating his desire to incorporate pop and R&B influences. He called his last single, Make Me Wanna, a kind of “countrified Bee Gees” and he attempted to emulate Justin Timberlake’s suit-and-tie dance moves in its video. Rhett has also been a vocal supporter of Bruno Mars. He cut his own version of Mars’s hit When I Was Your Man, he performed Uptown Funk in concert, and on his newest single, Crash and Burn, Rhett takes his admiration of the well-coiffed crooner to another level.
Crash and Burn is a pop-rock, 70s-inspired smash that incorporates whistling, an instrumental melody that bears a stunning resemblance to Sam Cooke’s 1960 classic Chain Gang (right down to the ooohs and ahhhs), and the palatable, upbeat appeal of acts like Andy Grammer and Michael Bublé. Is it country? Not in the slightest. But it is a legitimately funny song (it was co-written with Jesse Frasure and industry darling Chris Stapleton, whose first studio album, Traveller, is out next month) that juxtaposes a sad storyline with a jaunty beat and has Rhett reflecting on a failed relationship with the chorus line: “A slamming door and a lesson learned/ I let another lover crash and burn.”
You could argue that the real appeal of Crash and Burn lies in the lyrics and production of the song (courtesy of Jess Frasure and Dann Huff), but Rhett deserves some credit for cutting the track. The song has an endearingly down-on-your-luck perspective that marks a refreshing change from the sneering break-up songs like Cole Swindell’s Ain’t Worth the Whiskey and Tyler Farr’s Redneck Crazy that have lately infiltrated country radio. And simply by not being another song about trying to pick up a girl in a bar, Crash and Burn feels like an artistic accomplishment. (Boy, that’s sad.)
But if the song feels refreshing in the lyrical department, it’s entirely frustrating sonically. Rhett has claimed that he’s building disco and R&B influences into his new album, and while that’s being sold as an “evolution” of country music, it’s hard to read it as anything but an attempt to make country music sound less country. The same could be said of Sam Hunt or Jerrod Neimann, genre-bending gents who lend evidence to the argument that country music has an inferiority complex.
Lately, perhaps inspired by the success of Rhett’s Make Me Wanna (not to mention Crash and Burn, which quickly hit No 1 on the iTunes country chart), the new buzzword of the country establishment appears to be “funky”. Everyone is funky these days, according to Nashville. Press releases promoting new artist Michael Ray describe him as both “hunky” and “funky”; Jake Owen is teasing his new single as “funky” on Twitter. Outlets are describing new singles by Ashley Monroe, Drake White, and Gary Allan as “funky”.
But why is country so funkin’ desperate to be funky? Yes, we all know that Uptown Funk has been the top song in the US for three straight months, but country music doesn’t need to mimic that song in its quest to be cool. Country is already cool. I just wish the genre’s key players believed that.
