When did douchebag cowboys corner the market on songs about the tropics? Was I out to lunch while the “5 o’clock somewhere” crowd occupied every Jimmy Buffett knockoff like so many Wall Street protesters? Will pepper spray work on these guys? Doubtful, as they are so liquored up on rum and corona light that they’d probably not even feel it.
Country music used to be about just that, country. Where are the Johnny Cashes, the Willy Nelsons, the crooners of middle American life, that blue collar heroes who speak to all of us? Now all we’re stuck with are crossover morons, howling about needing beer for horses, which will probably kill them.
Jimmy Buffett had a niche market, working an angle of lazy island living, which gave the workaday sucker like me aspire for something simpler. Even he knows it, and while he does a good job living it, he sure does make a fair amount of bank from marketing the idea to the rest of us. Has the music industry really run out of ideas? Are we reducing ourselves to the one millionth re-imagining of the same basic Buffett tune?
Not that other music is any better, but frankly, if I hear 5 o’clock somewhere or another rendition of a song about feeding beer to horses, I’m going to find some horses like Diomedes had and take them to the concert.