I’ve been told that I was too quick to judge Daniel Lee in my review of his debut radio single ‘Backwood Tobacco’. I was told he was trying to steer clear of bro-country, and that I needed to listen to the full album before I should form an opinion. So, I delved in. I think it can be easy these days to hear music celebrating southern life and talking to blue collar workers and automatically think of bro; the same stories inform their ditties, even if they interpret them in a much more clichéd, trivial manner than the honest songwriters out there. Maybe it’s polarized the landscape, to the point where party songs or those about redneck lifestyles are given far less leeway than they used to, and are automatically cast aside as being unforgiveable, because of how they are now associated. Perhaps it’s just me guilty of that, and I hold my hands up and say I need to be more patient with the music that’s released, especially if those people are newcomers. But I think we all tend to categorize people into groups sometimes.
Daniel uses ‘Roots’ to show us, at the very least, that he is capable of applying himself to a variety of sounds and styles within his niche in fairly radio-friendly country rock. On the one hand, his alignment with Average Joes Entertainment tells us much about the music he’s looking to create, and the audience he’s trying to target. Average Joes were responsible for launching the career of Brantley Gilbert before Big Machine poached him, and being owned by Colt Ford have dabbled in a multitude of styles such as southern rock, hick hop and boundary-pushing sounds that are not for everyone, but are lapped up by the predominantly male, southern working class at which they are aimed. Generally not too big on such subgenres, I have avoided pay too much attention to Average Joes artists, but there is something to be said for the underground nature of much of their roster, and a grassroots approach to music-making that appeals to a remarkably large mass audience. Although I would not listen to many of those artists, I respect them.
Daniel Lee, therefore, has plenty of tracks on ‘Roots’ that recall early Brantley Gilbert in their attitude-driven, heavy rock/metal influences placed on top of a hearty helping of twang. ‘Redneck Routine’ joins ‘Backwood Tobacco’ in the group of fist-pumping, speaker-blowing, southern pride anthems, as does the brooding ‘Rebel’, which eschews expectations in its application of the rebel label to a woman, rather than himself. Daniel carries a surprising swagger and confidence in his delivery for these tracks without coming across obnoxious, able to harness the attitude that’s required without heaving a huge ego into the room. He tones it down a little elsewhere, retaining the rock sound but making it more commercial, harking back to early Jason Aldean this time for tracks like ‘Head Over Heels’. Starting off small, it’s clear we’re in a stadium environment with the pace-driving downstrummed guitar and the aggressive but very simple thick drum sound, going for big notes on the chorus and covering a universal lyric about falling in love.
The same can be said for album highlight ‘Hell Yeah’, which has a killer riff/intro peppered with organ, exploding into an incredibly catchy melody against a somewhat early 00’s pop/rock sound. ‘Slow Down Town’, too, is a particularly radio-friendly mid-tempo ballad also covering the subject of southern/rural pride, and love song ‘Georgia Asphalt Road’ (the only song on the album Daniel didn’t co-write, impressively) channels these styles too, an unmistakeable hit. One of the things I was most surprised about on this record was just how many songs are memorable and can be turned up and sung along to. Daniel has written (and picked) a number of really strong hooks and it’s been produced/mixed extremely well, meaning that he must be a commercial priority for Average Joes. Throughout all these upbeat and mid-tempo bangers, however, it’s the addition of the ballads that really make Daniel a force to be reckoned with for the future.
Possibly my favorite song on the entire album is the gentle, understated performance on ‘For Sale Sign’. Built from acoustic guitars, fiddle and delicate percussion, Daniel interprets it beautifully, his husky, southern accent-inflected vocals slipping over the melody like honey. The lyric is what really makes it shine, however, and I will admit almost made me cry. No more needs to be said, it just needs to be listened to. ‘Struggleville’ is also a standout in its analogy comparing bad times to living in a physical place, and the pretty melody is just the cherry on top. ‘No You In Us’ continues the semi-acoustic heartbreak theme through the story of one person falling out of love when the other is still hanging on; “I keep beating myself up, I couldn’t make you want to stay in love,” is a particularly gut-wrenching line. And ‘To Me’ is one of Daniel’s most genuine, passionate performances yet.
What makes him the whole package is his more-than-able interpretation of three different country styles: hard rock, blue collar rebel; mainstream country rock love songs; and gentle, traditional country heartbreak ballads. He covers each base with aplomb and fabulous songwriting ability, his voice at once appearing small yet somehow able to reach the big notes without any apparent struggle. And still there’s no ego, he doesn’t announce him like “I’m here, bitches”, as Florida Georgia Line or others might do, he just stands and performs the best way he can, and there’s something incredibly appealing about that. It’s often hard to find the “real deal” these days particularly in the commercial realm, but I’m pretty confident that Daniel Lee is it.
