Confession Time

Lately I’ve been struggling with a confessional disclaimer, which explains my recent absence from this blog. Dear readers, I know I’m going to be ridiculed incessantly for what I’m about to divulge, especially from my fellow music fans. Due to various factors (okay, one – a chick), I was recently introduced to an artist who I had previously not given a rat’s ass about. For a long time, I’ve viewed “new” country music as nothing more than hillbilly bubblegum pop, consisting of overhyped artists with their young, hip, cookie cutter, gel-headed, cheeseball back-up musicians. To me, country had lost its edge years ago, which was exactly the motive for forming my old band, The Inlaws (see TommyTCoe photo above).

So recently, when I was force-fed the music of (gulp) Kenny Chesney, I initially resisted. At first I thought, “Oh great – another rube with a fake twang and a sleeveless shirt and a cowboy hat.” And on top of that, I always thought his name sounded ludicrous, especially while being hollered by his starstruck fans (“Keeunnieeee Chayusnieee!!”). But I kept listening, only to discover that the dude wrote and sang some pretty damn good songs. The more I listened, the more I liked what I heard. The songs he doesn’t write, he chooses meticulously to fit his beachy, Buffetty vibe that blends perfectly with his more introspective material. Lo and behold, I was becoming a fan. Like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly with his ears falling off, I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered just what in the hell was happening to me. Let’s face it, I became hooked.

The culmination of this newfound fandom occurred last weekend when I went to see him live at Turner Field. It was an interesting lineup, consisting of Gary Allan (sucked), Leann Rimes (looked good but destroyed “I Want You To Want Me”), Sammy Hagar (of all people), and Brooks & Dunn (those vets know how to put on a show). But as soon as Kenny rose from the stage, he blew everyone else away. I’ve been to hundreds of concerts in my time but I must say that from a visual/production standpoint, it was the best concert I’ve ever seen. And the guy knows how to entertain. Not only that, but instead of running off with his ego at the end, he did something that I’d never seen before – he actually walked out onto the ramp and signed autographs while the band was still playing (granted, his band consisted of the same cheeseball types mentioned earlier). The guy is genuine and I like him and his music. So rag on me if you must – but you can bite me!