Brad Paisley: Making Contemporary Country Safe for Guitar Geeks
Brad Paisley is the most talented pop music star since Prince.
As a guitar player he’s as good or better than, say, Albert Collins, Richard Thompson, Danny Gatton, or any guitarists’ guitarist you can think of. Although he writes most of his songs in collaboration, he’s a great a songwriting collaborator, like Elton John, and as good at delivering a hooky clever pop novelty as anyone since Smokey Robinson. He sings with the most immaculate, clearly enunciated pop tenor since Billy Joel’s (but instead of Joel’s strident keening, Paisley owns a sly, back of the throat humor that allows him to make the ladies swoon and the guys snicker). He’s got dark, Clooneyesque boy next door good looks AND he’s one of the biggest hitmakers in America.
But, like Jeff Gordon or Jeff Foxworthy he could probably walk down 14th street in Manhattan without anyone recognizing him. Although I bet plenty of them have found themselves, bleary eyed, humming along with Paisley’s Alcohol at Appleby’s during a layover, hipper than thou New Yorkers will never give Paisley a shot because he makes radio-ready country music in Nashville. They write this kind of music off the way punks wrote off LA AOR in the 1970s. But Paisley’s fifth album (not including last year’s Christmas record), Fifth Gear, is great. Great like Rumors or Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Ignore it if you’re too cool. Your loss. (Wait till they find out Carrie Underwood sings on a track!)
Paisley, a 34-year-old West Virginian, is at his best with hooky, novelties like his 2002 breakthrough hit I’m Gonna Miss Her (The Fishin’ Song). And he delivers in spades on half a dozen songs destined to spend the summer atop the country charts (Ticks already made #1 on the country chart, also great are All I Wanted was a Car and I’m Still a Guy). Online–the album’s second single– is my favorite of the novelties, an impeccably observed Internet number.
I’m five foot three and overweight/I’m a sci-fi fanatic, mild asthmatic, never been to second base/But there’s a whole ‘nother me that you need to see/Go check out MySpace
Paisley is also one of those rare pop singers, like Stevie Wonder, who can deliver schmaltz like it’s Proust, and he’s at his Proustian best on Letter to Me. Wholly-penned by Paisley, its the songwriter’s letter to himself at 17. The song features the kind of visual, nostalgic writing that Nashville adores, but Paisley fill the song (and the performance) with real sentiment, not just sentimentality. Again, knowing, wry humor helps. (When you get a date with Bridgett make sure the tank is full/On second thought forget it that one turns out kinda cool.)
But what makes Fifth Gear Paisley’s best album to date is how fully he has integrated his machine gun rockabilly guitar pyrotechnics into the pop material. Paisley is the guitar geek’s country star, a regular feature subject for Guitar Player and Vintage Guitar magazines, a tonequester’s hero, endorser of drzamps (although he uses vintage Vox AC30s in the studio). Guitar heroics have been mostly ghettoized on Paisley’s previous albums–consigned to fire-breathing instrumental novelties (like Cornography, Paisley’s duet with Nashville guitar legend James Burton from 2005’s smash Time Well Wasted). Here, working closely with his road band, Paisley delivers mindblowing guitar every two bars! (Although the ubiquitous instrumental closes the record, this time it’s an anti-climax.) In fact, among albums aiming squarely for the top of the charts, this is the mostly audaciously contrived record of guitar heroics since Purple Rain.
Yeah, the record is over-produced. It’s not just that it’s polished, punchy, and densely but tightly arranged–those are great qualities and ones I value more highly than I do willful low-fi primitivism–the problems are the ubiquitous over-compression, and worse, the obvious use of digital pitch correction to make the background vocals sound stacked with architectural perfection and every melissma sound precision ground. Paisley can really sing. He doesn’t need the crutch. But that’s the sound that’s expected by country radio, and that’s the sound that producer Frank Rogers delivers. I’d like to hear Paisley do a stripped down, back to basics session–not unplugged, mind you, since Paisley is one of the best electric guitar players working today, but something without the gigantic, reverb-laden drums and the mechanical harmonies. Still, a lot of the more audacious arrangement touches–marching band here, cockeyed fairground glockenspiel there–work beautifully.
I know some people–my 15 year old daughter for example–will never be able to hear past the superficial sheen of Fifth Gear: the soaring choruses borne aloft on a timbral cloud perfectly tailored for the dressing room at the Gap in the Hamilton Place Mall in Chatanooga. Even I have my moments of doubt. If Love was a Plane is too corny for me and the duet with Underwood is the worst kind of lifeless, made for market dreck. But the otherwise awful With You, Without You is redeemed by the emotional extended guitar solo that ends it (a little reminiscent, in its eligiac tone, to Frank Zappa’s famous Watermelons in Easter Hay).
Stopped at a light, windows down blasting Mr. Policeman–a rave-up featuring a duel between Paisley’s Telecaster and Randall Currie’s pedal steel–I caught myself reaching for the volume knob, thinking I’d better turn down such unabashed pop country. But I’m not claiming Brad Paisley as a guilty pleasure anymore. His music is just pure pleasure. Ignore it at your peril.



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August 28, 2008 at 3:16 am
[...] Brad Paisley: Making Contemporary Country Safe for Guitar Geeks - user rating. Brad Paisley is the most talented pop ...