Eric Church is a master of his craft. Not content either to “sell out” into the mainstream or to simply build on what made ‘Chief’ so successful and so critically acclaimed, he has spent the last few months making damn sure we all know he’s capable of so, so much more. In an environment where artists copy each other for cheap sales with no substance, Eric once again defies the norm, and does so in fabulous, authentic style.
Initially, there was a significant amount of worry that he would produce a record dominated by rock. The title track, consequently the lead single and the one that he performed at the CMA Awards, was what planted this theory, beginning a musically intriguing narrative that drew on elements of progressive rock and metal, designed to shock country listeners and assure fans of his loyalties (review here). The same can be said of album track ‘That’s Damn Rock & Roll’, again one of the rockier tracks on offer and one that utilizes a sharp but stripped back rock sound and Eric’s trademark husky statement-singing, decrying the supposed “rock & roll” actions of others in the industry who are apparently fake and only in it for the money, the drugs and the women. Here he places himself firmly as someone who is all about the music and will refuse to sell out and prioritize financial gain over artistic dignity and development. He also criticizes the “establishment” trying to cash in on the rock movement, and creates an interesting insight into what Eric may have himself experienced in the industry while trying to make music that he believes in.
That’s not to say that he isn’t calculating in his collating of this record. The theme of “you’ll have to save me from myself”, a man of darkness in redemption is one he cleverly exploits given his “bad boy” image, known for getting kicked off Rascal Flatts’ tour in ’06 for continuously playing past curfew, for often being wasted on stage and for playing to crowds who fight and engage in sex during his show. Eric has played upon this image since the beginning, and the fact that his album is called ‘The Outsiders’ with a less than subtle title track is telling not only of the semi-concept aspect of the record but also of the market that he is trying to reach: the guys who think they’re rebels, or want to be rebels, or both. The girls that find that sexy, as well as wanting to look after the man who realizes his actions are wrong. Take ‘The Man Who Was Gonna Die Young’ for example; Eric’s character is suddenly coming to terms with his own mortality after turning 36 and only remembering half of the years he has lived, while he notices gray hair too. He owes his survival and his calming down to his spouse, who has always loved him and been there for him even when he was a mess, although he doesn’t understand why. It’s delivered with such an understated and personal performance, zoning in on the vocals and focusing on redemptive honesty, that it’s hard not to fall for him in that moment.
The same thing occurs with ‘Dark Side’; this works much within the same vein, but with an added menace that brings the storyline shuddering into the present. Eric admits that if he were to allow his dark side to take control, jail and violence would be just around the corner, and never-quite-fulfilled scenarios hang eerily in the air, as he pulls a wife and son into the picture, highlighting the risks he faces every day. His previous dismissal of the drug lifestyle of rock musicians returns, criticizing those who lose themselves in the whirlpool but warning that if they were to catch his son he would surely shoot and kill them. The combination of fear of himself and the unleashing of a protective father, supplied with an undercurrent of gentle but on-edge acoustic guitar makes for a song not only of two slightly bipolar halves but also one that views the damaged rebel souls as those who struggle in their plight to live as the rest of us do. Perhaps it even suggests that we are all this way.
The song is followed by ‘Devil Devil’, which includes a prelude entitled ‘Princess of Darkness’, a poem of sorts that Eric almost whispers with menace and vigor, detailing the demons of Nashville and its music industry, claiming that the city is the devil’s bride. Beautifully written but at times hard to distinguish, it serves as an appropriate and very much welcomed delve into the wider context of this album, the demons so alive and enticing in the country music industry. Yet, Eric seems to argue, the heartbreak present in all walks of life is also a reason for the demons we all share. ‘Like A Wrecking Ball’ is a stripped-back and bluesy note of desperation, when the family support system is not available while on tour, and peels back the curtain covering the very real emotional wounds that musicians have to bear to live their dream. He seems to argue that demons are born in these unprotected places, yet love itself can drive them to try and replicate that underserved emotion with substances in ‘Broke Record’, detailing an unhealthy obsession with a woman (and a crazy awesome rhythm). This theme continues through ‘Rollercoaster Ride’, an at times psychedelic and experimental take on the emotional turmoil of heartbreak, which perhaps would lyrically seem average without the wider context of the album, but within it in just makes further sense.
Yet, despite the heavy concept of ‘The Outsiders’, it does have its lighter moments. ‘Cold One’, for example, highlights a rare moment of comedy for Eric, lamenting the loss of a beer that an ex-lover took when she walked out of his life. Throughout, it is perhaps not clear whether he is really missing the beer, or whether it’s larger metaphor for the part of him that she took and that he will never get back, but while it provides some surface light relief for listeners (matched with some funky production), it also pairs heartbreak with substances again, subtly reminding us again and again of the demons involved in pain. ‘Talladega’ is a radio-friendly reminisce upon a happy time drinking with friends at NASCAR races, but they’re drinking whiskey – a sign of things to come, life to turn sour and the sweet taste of good memories to be darkened.
What Eric has managed to do, within his boundaries of being a top mainstream star, is reach outside those exact boundaries and produce a record that is not obnoxiously rock, nor disappointingly alienating, but overwhelmingly intelligent, nuanced, and making valid commentary on the world around him, only referring to it explicitly when reciting his poem in hushed tones. Although I have not mentioned too much of the musical aspects of this album, they are certainly not to be ignored, as his complex take on genres (or lack of them) weaves sounds and ideas perfectly into music that is creative, interesting, but most of all catchy and very enjoyable. It is simply that the narrative is so strong (without being as over the top as it could have been) that the lyrics can be dissected over and over without the practise becoming boring. There are so many layers that multiple interpretations can result from it, and that’s when you know it’s a good album. The best this year, in fact.
