The artists I’ve covered so far have been in that ever-so-sought after “Nashville” category. But country music does exist elsewhere—and one of the major places it flourishes is Texas.

But Texas country ain’t the same as Nashville country. It’s more traditional, more original when it comes to the relationship between the artist and their art. Most Texas musicians write all of their own music and make their living right there in their home state. They’re signed to small labels and record a lot of live albums—and they are great live. They know how to rock, they know how to make you cry, and they know how to make you fall in love. They're that good.

And Wade Bowen is one of them. I had never heard of this guy until about two weeks ago, when one of his songs came across my Pandora, on my “Eli Young Band” station (another band from Texas). I instantly liked him and also instantly knew that he was from Texas. A few Google/iTunes Store searches later and I wanted to buy all of four of his albums. But I decided on If We Ever Make It Home, the latest release.


Not only is Wade Bowen handsome (hey, it counts!) but he has a unique, honest tone about his voice. And he writes, plays, and sings. He's also a family man. You love him, right?  


All the songs on If We Ever Make It Home are relevant and well written. They get stuck in your head and make you want more. “Trouble” is one of those songs. It' has the most addicting hook I may have ever heard:
"I wish trouble always looked that good." No, I'm not entirely sure what it means, but...does it matter? Here's the video:

This is something I don't normally take the time to say, but the music video for 

this song is actually pretty phenomenal. The cinematography is incredible. The colors, the angles, everything. And the best part is...it matches the song, word for word. It does exactly what a music video is supposed to do.

Remember when I said Bowen's tone is honest? Well, so are his lyrics. He starts out with 

"I wouldn't say I didn't see her coming," because "a light that bright's hard to miss in a place that dark." There's a double meaning to "a place that dark" here that I love--looking at the video for the song, you see that the speaker is in a dark room--a bar--when she walks in. She brightens it up. But "a place that dark" is also a state of mind. She brightens him up. This description has the potential to be really cliche--a sad guy meets and flirts with a pretty girl in a bar--but Bowen gives it to us so uniquely that I actually find it quite romantic, especially with what comes next: 

"She said yes to a drink while her fingers fumbled with a cross on a chain that was swinging above her heart."

That's an incredibly accurate, incredibly intimate image. There's also some great sounds in that line--drink/swinging; said/yes--and some noteworthy alliteration--She/said; fingers/fumbled; her/heart. The next section is especially poetic: 

"When the morning sun set

the midnight sky on fire, she left me like a thief not knowing what she took."   

Another impeccable image. In that one line, we know what's happened between this couple without being told explicitly. And in my humble opinion, these two have experienced exactly what the video portrays.

Now for that hook, which actually doubles as the chorus (is it stuck in your head yet?): "I wish trouble always looked that good."

The story continues in the next section, where listeners are guaranteed that nothing but an innocent exchanged has occurred between these two so far:

"I was still a little nervous when I got the courage to call that bright red number she’d written on the back of my hand/ A bottle of wine rode shotgun with a rose while I was driving cross town thinking about turning back"


The internal rhyme of nervous/courage is one of the most unexpected, satisfying combinations I may have ever heard. There are some others, too: still/little/written; rode/rose; while/drive(ing). The alliteration, again, particularly stands out in this section: courage/call; bright/back/bottle; wine/while. The word "back" is also used twice here, but in different ways. There's a word for that but...I don't know what it is! He talks about the back of his hand, and physically turning back to where he came from. Pretty clever, especially to use them so closely together.


"Now there’s a porch light burning a hole right through my windshield/There’s a silhouette standing at the screen door waiting for me"


We're given another reference to light--even if it is just a porch light!--reiterated from two earlier sections in the song: "a light that bright," and "morning sun." The woman is associated with light, a thing that the speaker clearly finds to be a lovely thing. And ironically, the lighting in the music video is one of the most impressive, almost breathtaking things about it. Coincidence? I hope so.

Written by Scooter Carusoe and Aimee Mayo
Performed by David Nail on I’m About to Come Alive

From what I’ve heard (and from reading his list of Thank Yous), David Nail has been a popular guy in Nashville for awhile now among country musicians—Billy Currington, Miranda Lambert, Lady Antebellum, to name a few—and, on his album, a few of the tracks were co-written by some other familiar names: Kenny Chesney (yeah, that Kenny Chesney) and Aimee Mayo. The guy very clearly has established himself as a strong song-writer in Nashville and now on his debut album, I’m About to Come Alive.



He’s also one of the better male vocalists on the charts right now, which, surprisingly, seems to somehow go unnoticed sometimes. Did you ever hear a song (in any genre) and think “wow, this is catchy…but this person can’t actually sing that well”? Well, that’s not the case here. Nail’s voice is original—it doesn’t remind me of anyone but him. Does that make sense? Sometimes, when you hear a new artist…you can say, “He/she reminds me of ________,” and someone will probably agree with you. But Nail has a unique, effortless tone and he knows how to use it. His voice can stand alone, but it’s also great for harmony, and it can also stand out among a lot of background instrumentation. He’s versatile and fresh, and his style is too. Even though his songs fit the mold of what most country musicians cover on their debut albums—a good break-up song, a song about the summertime, a song about their first love, etc.—Nail makes them new. The lyrics, the sounds, the use of instruments, everything. The songs on I’m About to Come Alive weren’t ones I felt like I’d heard before. I’m impressed with David Nail…if you couldn’t tell.

I honestly could use every one the songs on I’m About to Come Alive on this blog. But for right now, I’m going with “Strangers on a Train,” for several reasons (the fact that Miranda Lambert sings harmony has absolutely nothing to do with it): everyone has had one of these moments, even if it wasn’t on a train; the harmonica! And well, you’ll just have to wait and see what else.

I didn’t really talk about the title in the first couple of posts—and that’s because titles are either a) appropriate, b)cheesy, or c)predictable. But every now and then, someone will give us a great one—one that we may even love. And I. love. this. title. “Strangers on a Train.” The ‘A’ sounds! It rolls off your tongue, right? It feels very natural to respond, “Strangers on a Train,” when someone asks what this song is called. Sometimes song titles are awkward and they make you feel silly repeating them—i.e. “Tonight the Heartache’s on Me”—what a mouthfull! And don’t even get me started on those titles with parenthesis—“How Sweet It Is (to be loved by you)”—really?

But, I digress. Back to the song.

Immediately, you hear that bluesy harmonica. It gives you that train feel (if only they actually sounded like harmonicas!), setting you up for the first verse, where he speaks directly to the listener. This is important because the intended audience shifts after the first chorus. This is where that “everyone has had one of these moments, even if it wasn’t on a train” thing comes in. He says to the audience…Hey, remember that guy/girl you locked eyes with that one time, and even though you had a girlfriend/boyfriend at the time…you kinda wondered, what if?

“Sometimes you see someone/when you already got someone/still you wonder what if they had come along a long time ago/you know that they’re feelin’ it too/but there ain’t nothin’ you’re gonna do/except for imagine who you might have been with them”

Now you’re thinking about when that happened to you. It’s okay—I won’t tell!

The chorus describes “imagine who you might have been with them” part of the first verse:

“Cause as these little brick houses are flying by/‘Neath the flickering of the railcar lights/I let myself get lost in your eyes a while/Not another passenger in here can see/How in my mind you’re holdin’ me/While outside the cold makes snow out of the rain/But in here we’re just strangers on a train”

But let’s talk about those images in the chorus before we move on—“brick houses are flying by,” “flicking of the railcar lights,” “the cold makes snow out of the rain.” I don’t know about you, but I’ve been a passenger on a train in a city (thanks, Heather!) and these descriptions are both vivid and accurate. And actually, when I heard this song the first time, I had not yet been on a train and they still worked for me. That’s the most poetic part of this song—creating images for the audience. It’s a lot like the responsibility of a photographer or a painter. You’ve gotta capture it correctly or…you haven’t done your job.

Another thing about the chorus—notice how “in my mind you’re holdin’ me/While outside the cold makes snow out of the rain” can be interpreted two different ways: 1) the cold makes snow out of the rain, outside the train, while this guy daydreams about the girl, or 2) in the daydream, the cold makes snow out of the rain (while she’s holdin’ him).

In the second verse, that shift I mentioned earlier happens. The singer directs the lyrics to the woman on the train, instead of to the listeners of the song. He creates some action between them, exchanging glances and grins. And he calls her out for acting like she doesn’t see him: “starin’ off tryin’ to pretend/like you haven’t even noticed me at all.”

Now, being a woman, I know this is a completely accurate description of this scenario. I can’t lie, I’ve done it! Women are pros at appearing oblivious. And really, at this point in the song…a listener could assume that the woman is oblivious. After all…she is just a woman on a train. But making that assumption definitely isn’t any fun. So in the bridge…here’s our movie moment:

“Brakes grind, I gotta go/Reach down, pick up my coat/Afraid that you might stop me in the aisle/Watch my breath risin’ in the air/Can’t do nothin’ but just stand there/As you press your hand against the window pane/And I wave to my stranger on a train”

The best part of about the bridge is that it’s totally cliché—how many times have you seen this in a movie? The train pulls away…the passenger still on board frantically tries to stop the conductor from going forward…the person outside runs after the train. It always ends the same way. But isn’t this a metaphor too? Can’t it be compared to that guy/girl you saw or talked to for a brief moment in line at Starbucks (thinking, I like this person…) and then they disappear with their White Chocolate Mocha, never to be seen again. They were probably thinking the same thing about you, when they awkwardly said “See ya…” and walked away. The woman in this song was, at least.

Notice, also, that the harmony parts only happen during the chorus and at the end during “watch my breath risin’ in the air/can’t do nothin’ but just stand there/as you press your hand against the window pane,” and in the repeat of the phrase “my stranger on a train” at the very end, which suggests that the woman felt the same way throughout the entirety of the song.

Written by Keith Urban and Monty Powell
Performed by Keith Urban on his album, "Defying Gravity"

Ironically enough, when I went to see Keith Urban in concert last summer, I hadn’t really been listening to his music that much. I mainly wanted to go to that show to see Sugarland, a band that I love—I’ll be covering one of their songs soon—but Keith did not disappoint. He put on a phenomenal show—high energy, very music and fan-focused. It may sound surprising to hear that a concert was “music focused,” but a lot of times, at any concert of a musician who has basically any resource at their fingertips, the show will be highly centered around acrobatics and spectacles; however, Keith’s stage set up was even extremely minimalist, which was strange initially, but eventually actually became refreshing. At the end of the concert (which lasted at least 3 full hours), Keith and his band stood on stage to thank the audience very sincerely for supporting what they do, because they do realize that in times like these, spending money on concerts is hard to justify—let’s face it, the tickets aren’t cheap, and they know that—then they signed autographs and made their exit. I’d never seen another artist do that before then and I’m willing to bet I won’t ever see that again. It was so rare and genuine; in that moment, Keith and his band gained another level of respect that I sadly can’t say I have for many other artists (don’t misunderstand that; I do immensely respect any musician for what they do).
Here's my view from that show (sorry it's so hard to see!):

All that to say, the first time I heard “Til Summer Comes Around” was at that concert. And appropriately so, it was summertime. Before I say anything else, I want you to hear the song if you haven’t already—it’s essential for understanding a very important element of the song: the mood.

Keith Urban   More CMT Music   More CMT Music Videos

“Mood” is a term you don’t really hear that much when people talk about songs or poetry. But “Til Summer Comes Around” won’t let me think about anything else but the mood. It’s sleepy, slow, sad, almost hypnotizing at times, too—and all this solely because of the guitar riffs and the melody. I am aware of the mood without even listening to what’s being sung, and I bet you are, too.

Because they’ve established the mood so successfully, Powell and Urban are then able to make the content fit the form perfectly. I think this is sometimes an extremely difficult thing to do; but here, the tempo, and guitar riffs work together flawlessly with the lyrics and melody. I read on theboot.com about the story behind this song—Powell said that he and Keith started with the beginning guitar riff and thought of the image of an empty amusement park at the end of summer. “Til Summer Comes Around” is what they ended up with. The way this song came to be is poetic, in itself. I know that I and other fellow-poets often start writing with a specific image in their mind. You never know where it’s going to take you—sometimes it translates well, sometimes it doesn’t. I think it’s plain to see that here, there is nothing lost in translation.

I said this about “Not Ready to Make Nice”—most of these lyrics can be read as prose. This song actually is more successful in doing so than “Not Ready to Make Nice”…here’s the first verse:

“Another long summer’s come and gone. I don’t know why it always ends this way. The boardwalk’s quiet and the carnival rides are as empty as my broken heart tonight."

This section not only reads like prose poetry; for me, it also reads like fiction or nonfiction. It sounds like the beginning of something you’d read in a book—maybe a collection of short stories. Now that I say that, this song is a short-short. Flash fiction.

In this first verse, there is no set rhyme pattern but there is some smart rhyming going on that you’re almost unaware of: quiet/rides/tonight. For the rest of the song, we see some pretty set rhyme schemes, but they don’t hinder the song like they do in some poems (since we are living in the age of free verse). These rhyme schemes help the momentum of the song—like this, in the second verse:

“I got a job workin’ at the old park pier/And every summer now for five long years/[Right here is where the momentum is so important because of the parallelism of the images and the rhyming] I grease the gears, fix the lights, tighten bolts, straighten the tracks/And I count the days til you just might come back”

If you didn’t catch it, go back and find that part of the song.

Another interesting thing this song does is work in a quote from the female character. I almost let this slip by until I listened to it very closely—

“Baby I’ll be back again”/You whispered in my ear/But now the winter wind is the only sound/And everything is closin’ down/Til Summer Comes Around"

This section also creates all these great images of literal sounds, and shows them alliteratively: Baby, be, back; whispered/winter/wind; sound/summer; closing/comes.

I waited until the end to mention the chorus. Not because it’s less important, but because it’s actually very vital to the song. The chorus is where we find why the singer is so distraught over this girl and why he stays here waiting on her, summer after summer. It kind of reminds me of Noah in The Notebook, by Nicholas Sparks. Allie visits for the summer, they fall in love. Eventually she has to go back home but he stays there where they first met, waiting on her to come back. Ironically, Noah and Allie essentially meet on a Ferris Wheel. Coincidence?

We all have one of these moments on the Ferris Wheel (maybe not literally) that we want to hold onto. But most of us let them go. But here, we see what happens when you don’t. Keith Urban’s vocals capture the desperation so perfectly; I don’t think anyone else in country music could have captured it better than he does.

And here, just for fun--the making of the video.

Written by the Dixie Chicks and Dan Wilson
Performed by the Dixie Chicks on their album, “Home”

Some of you make think it bold of me to start out with one of the most controversial groups in Country Music history. But before and since the Dixie Chicks, country music couldn’t really claim a girl-group as instrumentally and vocally talented as Natalie Maines, Emily Robison, and Martie Maguire. Most of these “girl bands” fell into Pop (the Spice Girls) or R&B (Destiny’s Child).

No matter what you think of Natalie’s slip of the tongue back in 2003, nobody can deny the power of their dynamic. I was lucky enough to see these girls in concert during their Top of the World tour that same year (can’t believe that was 7 years ago…) from the coveted second row on the floor. I’m an avid concert-goer (just last year, I saw Kenny Chesney, Miranda Lambert [twice], Lady Antebellum, Keith Urban, Sugarland, and Jason Aldean) and to this day, that’s one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.

But in 2003, below the Mason-Dixon line especially, crowds (former fans, believe it or not) were smashing their CDs (literally) and burning them in bon-fires. I very vividly remember a news clip of someone stomping their Fly record to pieces. Radio stations refused (and most of them still refuse) to play their music. I never understood why people were so upset. Yeah, maybe Natalie shouldn’t have said this:

“Just so you know, we’re on the good side with y’all. We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas.”

on stage in front of thousands of fans overseas. But the fact is that she did. I’m sure she regretted it at some point, though she never outwardly apologized to anyone. Her personal opinions don’t change the fact that she is a solid musician, an excellent performer and entertainer. Luckily, Maines and the other chicks were able to channel their feelings into a song called "Not Ready to Make Nice" in 2006. The Chicks took home 5 Grammys for that song in 2007, including Song of the Year and Record of the Year. But (not so surprisingly) the same year, the Chicks won nothing at the CMT Awards or the CMAs. The country fanbase isn’t very forgiving in these situations and the Dixie Chicks are a perfect example of that.

Before I talk about the lyrics, take a listen for yourself by watching the music video. It’s your best bet for understanding anything beyond this point.




For me, one of the best things about the way this song is written is how prevalent (yet not overwhelming) the rhyming is. You could read this song straight through, realistically, and not appear “sing-songie.” Here, try it yourself. This is the first part of the song, typed out the way you’d say it in a conversation:

Forgive sounds good. Forget—I’m not sure I could. They say “Time heals everything,” but I’m still waiting.

See? Very obvious rhymes—good/could, everything/waiting. The song continues this pattern throughout; it’s not an easy technique in songwriting.

The song does another thing: emphasize the use of colloquialisms. Here’s what we’re given:

-Time heals everything
-Not ready to make nice
-I’m mad as hell
-Made my bed
-No regrets

This is such an important element of the song. The Chicks were the center of a lot of negative attention in the 3 years prior to the release of this single. Everyone had something to say about them and for the most part, it was not pretty. And the point is just that: people were talking, talking, talking. The Chicks were hearing it all—to their faces and behind their backs. This song was their outlet—one that slapped its audiences in the face because of the way the Chicks flipped the meaning of these colloquialisms. (They say “Time heals everything,” But I’m still waiting.) They used them in a surprising, nearly shocking way that either helped you gain more respect for them or lose it entirely. It was a very bold, risky move. But I’m of the persuasion that they pulled it off pretty perfectly.

Another thing I want to point out in this song is the overwhelming use of I, I’m, me, and my—personal pronouns. It’s actually not something I even noticed until looking at the words by themselves on a page. In poetry, this repetition has potential to be unnecessary and almost annoying if it’s not done the right way or if it doesn’t have a specific goal in the piece. But in songwriting, repetition is a requirement. That’s part of what makes it a song (the chorus is typically sung 3, maybe 4 times in a single track—and in songwriting, a “hook” is the part that gets stuck in your head, and makes you want to hear/sing the song over and over). In "Not Ready to Make Nice," this repetition is particularly effective and powerful because it’s so heavy and personal to the singer herself. When Natalie Maines sings “It turned my whole world around/And I kinda like it,” you believe her. If Martie or Emily, for some reason, would have sang any of these lines, the use of personal pronouns would have been null.

Last, I want to show you one of the most bonding elements between this particular song and the genre of poetry: self discovery. This song is therapy, a coming to terms, an outright statement of who the Dixie Chicks were in 2006. They said what needed to be said, not only for themselves, but for everyone else who chose to ridicule them. They were brave and true, to their themselves and the music.

It’s a thing that the average joe doesn’t think about much in song lyrics: poetry. We like to separate the two as their own entities, but when you think about it, they mirror each other considerably. I’m here to show you how Country singers and songwriters are making this connection.

One of the major elements in poetry is sound. Poets rely heavily and sometimes make decisions solely based on sounds because of the musicality they can produce in a piece. Things like rhythm and meter are an important part of this musicality. We shouldn’t be surprised that these poetic elements show up in song lyrics. I’m not just talking about rhyme—that’s obviously a given in any song and some poetry. I’m talking about the intentional culmination of poetic elements—sounds, word choice, rhyme, rhythm, meter, vivid imagery, simile, metaphor, and all these things applied to the actual instrumentals in the background—that go into song lyrics to achieve a certain effect.

It’s more prevalent in some genres than others. But for my purposes (and because it’s what I prefer to listen to, and therefore have the most familiar material to choose from), I’m choosing to focus on “country.” And since it is 2010, this thing we call “country” isn’t just reserved for the guys singing about their woman leaving them or their dying dog. Believe it or not, country artists DO sing about other subjects! But “country” is also a term used to encompass things typically not categorized that way in the past: bluegrass, rock-a-billy, and (dare I even say it?) pop-country. Like I said, people, it’s 2010. The genres are blending. Hell, Beyonce and Lady Gaga are making music videos together! Taylor Swift and Def Leppard are doing CMT Crossroads! Green Day is on Broadway!

If nothing else, I hope to show you something you may have never realized or noticed before. Even if you’re not a fan of the genre, maybe you can take what you see here and apply it to the music you love. I’m not trying to convince everyone to love Miranda Lambert (even though I think you’d be happier if you did), but I am here to shed some light on and maybe dispel a few myths you may have about Country music or Poetry, or (especially) the thought of the two combined.