#this probably ranks an 8 on the 'insufferable writing' scale but I had fun with it regardless

[centrally-unplanned]

The Liminal 90's of River's Edge

River’s Edge, a 1993 josei manga by Kyoko Okazaki, is something I picked up primarily due to hearing through the ‘net-vine of its influence on FLCL. Which is clearly there – adrift teens smoking on a bridge?

A smog-belching factory defining the grim normality of the town they live in, whose purpose is commented on to be unknown to the characters?

FLCL is a hodgepodge of cultural symbols and River’s Edge certainly part of the, uh, hodge. The parallels end there though – River’s Edge is *peak* josei in that it is utterly engulfed in the edgy drama of its high school protagonists. There is no way around the fact that this just isn’t a very good story, when it has plotlines such as boyfriend of Haruna, the main character:

1: cheating on her with her close friend,

2: which they do while doing hard drugs together,

3: resulting her getting knocked up,

4: which her hikikomori sister finds out via reading her diary (the 90’s!)

5: prompting them to get into a *knife fight*, the wounds of which abort the baby

And that is the most tame of these plotlines, trust me. By the time the gay character’s fake-but-she-doesn’t-know-it girlfriend *immolates herself* for attention you are willing to flee to the nearest monastic order to just chill out for life. This manga is 14 chapters y’all, you can finish it in under an hour, there is not enough character screen time to justify this level of drama. Its a classic early-adolescent fiction problem; your first time hearing about sex and death is so cool! So *real*! But once the novelty wears off there are no characters underneath, the shock is a magician’s misdirect so you don’t notice the hollowness behind the curtain.

We also forget how much the digital revolution has changed art in fast-paced, low-cost genres like manga by allowing consistency and polish; Okazaki is an accomplished, well known mangaka and some of these panels are so messy and detail-less:

Which isn’t a criticism per se as this was what the genre looked like at the time, and much of the art is great, but it's just to say overall this isn't a visuals-first affair. It relies on writing that just doesn’t deliver.

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At least most of the time, because in its overwhelmingly maudlin current are ripples of some really good moments. My standout is when the narrator voice goes poetic, setting up a repeated motif:

Even as it is a bit cheesy this motif still spoke to me, the “flat battlefield”, the power of that phrase the story imbued into it. A fight with no contours to its course, no metrics to measure victory by? You don’t need to experience a knife-fight abortion to get that struggle, my daily mundane life is that (obliquely, through a certain lens at a certain time when the mood is just right/wrong). That is the universal feeling of ennui and social displacement these kinds of stories aim to have empathy for, and that the rest of this story failed to achieve. And credit where it is due – main girl Haruna, who narrates this and through whose eyes most of this story happens, doesn’t really have much drama at all in comparison to her peers. While they do insane shit she just watches and helps where she can from the sidelines, defined by her listlessness as opposed to everyone else’s tragedy. The flat battlefield is exactly the kind of pain someone like Haruna would feel – this arc works.

From the social critic lens, what I think is more notable about this story is what it does not contain. Its universal aspirations are betrayed by how utterly of its time it is. River’s Edge falls into the edgy-punk sphere, but original punk was defined by its targets - The Man, The Establishment, the polluted cityscapes and imprisoned activists, Thatcher’s & Reagan’s right wing triumphalism, original punk knew what it stood against. In the post cold-war, mass-culture era of the 90’s, however, the appeal of those causes faded – how could things so distant and so temporal be the cause of such deep personal ills? It's often said that Japan predicts America’s cultural movements ten years out, but in this case it was right on time – 1993’s River’s Edge flows neatly alongside the 90’s American counterculture void.

But we no longer live in those liminal 90’s, that void between the intensity of the 60’s+ social revolution and today – we now have causes, but they are, ahem, as personal as they are political. Sad edgy teens are no longer sad or edgy – they instead fall somewhere on the Depressed/Oppressed axis, their condition diagnosed. Alienation is now a mental health issue (with treatments, certainly always effective yep yep, criminally underfunded and denied to those who need them), gay teens struggle for acceptance as a political cause. Even if the problems are inwardly focused, the solution can be translocated outward – change media, change language, change executive leadership, only then can the struggle be resolved. It’s the grand cycle of history – the teen edginess is activist again, even if the targets are wildly different.

River’s Edge never mentions the word ‘depression’. No one mentions therapy, or acceptance, or really any solution to their various problems - the problems are experienced internally but exist externally, a world broken only by a vague sense of ‘modernity’, if anything at all. The language in which this state of mind is discussed is now antiquated, a sort of radical acceptance of hopelessness as the natural state of man. Its aspirations to universalism have already been left in the dust of the changing times, an ill-fitting, out-of-fashion way of thinking even as Depression Fics dominates its former niche.

Which is why this otherwise-silly story still spoke to me, as I still resonate with that way of thinking more than anything else in vogue. I keep being told something is out there, but all I ever see is an endless horizon - and I am glad to once again share the view.

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Anyway, happy 30th anniversary to Smells Like Teen Spirit!

[thecourtreportersportedjorts]

Top 10 Worst Hit Songs of 2017

In December of each year, Billboard publishes its list of the 100 biggest hit songs of the last 12 months. In response, I take it upon myself to decide which of these songs were the real hits, and which were the biggest misses. As always, I’m starting with the worst. Let’s get started:

10. “Do Re Mi” by Blackbear

If you’ve read my earlier lists, I’ve made it no secret that I’m a big fan of The Weeknd. I’ve been enjoying his relentlessly bleak brand of R&B for years, so I was more than ready to celebrate his ascent on the pop charts with multiple spots on my Best Hit Songs lists in 2015 and 2016. Apart from choosing “Can’t Feel My Face” over Taylor Swift’s incomparable “Style” as my favorite hit song of 2015, I stand by all of it. Unfortunately, any great, successful artist is bound to generate a wave of cut-rate imitators, and thus we now have to deal with blackbear.

When blackbear first appeared on the Billboard Hot 100 last spring, I probably had the same reaction as anyone previously uninitiated: who the hell is this? Prior to this year, the rising R&B singer-songwriter had written and produced for such personality vacuums as G-Eazy and Machine Gun Kelly. He also co-wrote “Boyfriend,” one of Justin Bieber’s biggest and most embarrassing singles to date. If any of that suggests that his breakout single “Do Re Mi” would be a noxious whinge replete with countless fuckboy-isms, you’d only wish it were that good.

Blackbear unfortunately goes the extra mile, topping off his insufferable whining at his “crazy” ex with a failed attempt at wit. “Do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you,” the chorus taunts, which becomes awkward when you notice that he’s singing up a minor scale, and the minor solfege progression is do, re, ME, FE, etc. All this is accompanied by a perfunctory Gucci Mane feature and a chord progression that’s eerily similar to The Weeknd’s “Wicked Games,” which is where my issues with the song clicked: when Abel made songs like this, he at least had the good sense not to cast himself in the moral high ground or center his hooks around laughable wordplay. And I thought Bryson Tiller was bad.

9. “Believer” by Imagine Dragons

I’ve been writing these lists for five years now, and while I wouldn’t say that my music taste has changed dramatically since then, it’s certainly expanded enough that I could rewrite my Best Hit Songs lists from 4 or 5 years ago and include songs that weren’t even on my radar before. With that said, doing this for such a long time leads you to wonder if you were ever too quick to heap praise onto something that ultimately didn’t deserve it. And while I wouldn’t say I suddenly dislike any of the songs Imagine Dragons landed on my previous lists, I can no longer call myself a fan when they keep churning out crap like this.

I first mentioned Imagine Dragons in 2012, when I saw them as an innovative new force in rock music, alongside the likes of Gotye and fun. While Gotye still hasn’t followed up his album Making Mirrors, and fun. guitarist Jack Antonoff has made even better music with his Bleachers project, Imagine Dragons doubled down on their stadium-ready sound to diminishing returns. After the sophomore slump Smoke + Mirrors failed to produce major hits, they somehow managed to notch one of their biggest successes yet with “Believer,” a dreary, un-catchy slog of a song.

There are a lot of things that I find deeply annoying about “Believer,” like singer Dan Reynolds audibly straining his vocals on a flat hook, the utterly dour and depressing music backing what should be an uplifting (if not esoteric) set of lyrics, or the “first things first” lyrical structure that gives me Iggy Azalea flashbacks. But my biggest problem with Imagine Dragons in 2017 is that their songs seem entirely calculated to fit into trailers and commercials, and I’ve heard “Believer” in these spaces far more than anything more organic. I don’t believe that rock is inherently more valuable or authentic than pop, rap, etc., but it has no chance of being so if this is the way “rock” is represented in the mainstream.

8. “Tunnel Vision” by Kodak Black

If there is a theme to my lists this year, it’s that content doesn’t exist without context. 2017 has seen countless powerful men rightfully fall from grace as allegations of sexual assault and harassment continue to come out of the woodwork. As somebody who loves to share music, this puts me in an interesting position. Was I right to top my Best Hit Songs of 2014 with “Do What U Want,” Lady Gaga’s infamous collaboration with R. Kelly? Can I, in good conscience, still call Brand New’s Science Fiction one of the best albums on the year? Despite my own investment in this music, I have to second guess whether or not I can actively recommend any of it when such information is readily available. These are tough questions, but at least I don’t have to ask them here since I never liked Kodak Black in the first place.

Horrific legal charges aside, I never understood the appeal of Kodak’s music. Sure, he may choose solid beats once in a while, and he may speak on the gritty realities of the street life, but so many other rappers have done so by using a more intelligible and far less grating voice. So many other rappers have done so without resorting to tired, juvenile punchlines like “That money make me cum, it make me fornicate / I’m the shit, I need some toilet paper.” And so many other rappers at least know that “winning” doesn’t rhyme with “penitentiary.”

Even if you somehow liked this song and wanted badly to separate the art from the artist, you can’t really do that in this case. The edited line “I get any girl I want, any girl I want” originally ended with “I don’t gotta rape,” which is eventually followed by “I need a bitch who gon’ cooperate.” YIKES. The only reason this song is so low on this list is because the beat, provided by the ubiquitous Metro Boomin, deserves so much better. Metro, please stick to working with Future and Migos and stay away from this little shit.

7. “Bad Things” by Machine Gun Kelly feat. Camila Cabello

Overall, I considered 2016 to be a pretty weak year for the pop charts. It’s not that everything was terrible that year, but I remember struggling to put together both of these lists because I was so indifferent to most of the hits. Still, one of the most damning trends to dominate the year was the rise of mediocre white rappers. Both Gnash and Post Malone ranked high on my Worst list, and I probably should have included G-Eazy’s tedious “Me, Myself & I” as a dishonorable mention. This trend hasn’t entirely disappeared, as Malone had a surprisingly successful 2017, but it really should have ended with Machine Gun Kelly.

The first of the many bad things about “Bad Things” is the generous sample of Fastball’s 1999 hit song “Out of My Head.” I already have reservations about songs with such recognizable samples - even in songs like “Anaconda” that I otherwise like - and this is no exception, since the sample doesn’t really add any personality or texture to the song. The chorus just gets witlessly rewritten and clumsily regurgitated by Camila Cabello, who only sounds slightly less like a goat than she did on “Work From Home.” Of course, the song also borrows Fastball’s chord progression, which sounds like ass when paired with this Marshmello-lite production.

Even worse is MGK, who’s trying his damnedest to sound like the personification of white alpha male posturing. The only time his delivery suits the track is when he attempts to add a melody in the pre-chorus, and even then it results in serious tonal whiplash. There’s also a baffling R.E.M. reference in his second verse, as if desecrating one 90’s alternative rock band wasn’t enough. I would call the title of the song truth in advertising, but it’s more of an understatement.

6. “Swang” by Rae Sremmurd

I first discussed Rae Sremmurd in 2015 when “No Type” made the #9 spot on my Worst list. And while I still stand by the song’s inclusion, I don’t have much against these guys. Sure, SremmLife had more misses than hits - including the milk-aged, deeply regrettable “Up Like Trump” - but I can take solace in that they earned their biggest success with “Black Beatles,” their best song. On top of that, collaborations with French Montana and Jhene Aiko could position Swae Lee as a breakout solo star with a charismatic (if amateurish) vocal presence.

It’s for that exact reason why “Swang” is such a failure. Critics have routinely praised the duo for their infectious energy, but for the duration of the song, very little of that energy really translates. The production from P-Nazty trades the thunderous, off-kilter synths that made “Black Beatles” so invigorating for something much more warbly, cheap and lifeless. Swae Lee spends the majority of his time droning on words like Alaska Thunderfuck on quaaludes, and by the time Slim Jxmmi attempts to liven things up, it’s too little too late.

“Swang” isn’t an entirely sleepy affair, however. The track has one truly memorable trick up its sleeve - and that’s when Swae leaps into his falsetto during the hook. And it sounds hideous. It’s not quite as ear-splittingly awful as the drop on “Starving” last year, but it doesn’t even have that song’s sense of momentum. It almost sounds like the shower scene from Psycho, only without any real buildup leading to the aural carnage.

5. “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran

Overplay doesn’t tend to factor into my selections for these lists, a fact which is evident when you see that my Best list for 2015 included songs like “Hello” and “Shut Up and Dance.” This is because I don’t listen to the radio or randomized pop playlists very frequently. I’ll seek out the most popular songs once, and whether or not I keep hearing the song usually depends on how much I like it. That said, sometimes a song becomes inescapable, and the more you hear it, you notice more and more problems with it.

This takes us conveniently to “Shape of You,” Ed Sheeran’s first ever #1 single on the Hot 100. Admittedly, I thought this song was decent at first, and so I’d listen to it once in a while when I needed to scratch the itch. But when I decided I was done with it after a few weeks, I started hearing it pretty much everywhere, and then it clicked: this song is incredibly stupid.

First of all, Ed Sheeran is somewhere among the final few names on my hypothetical list of people I want to hear making songs about sex. “Shape of You” is certainly more competent than I’d imagine a sex song would be coming from Danny DeVito, but it’s also weirdly lacking in personality, which makes sense since he didn’t write this with himself in mind. Like “Cheap Thrills” last year, “Shape of You” was originally intended for Rihanna, who’s probably getting annoyed by all these white songwriters trying to pitch her such watered-down, vaguely Caribbean sounding pop tunes.

Of course, I could just be wishing that the song lacked personality, because Ed can’t resist using his same Sheeranisms that have soiled so many of his stabs at pop. In addition to an out-of-place Van Morrison shoutout (which he couldn’t even confine to one song), the song has a host of clumsy, overwritten lyrics. “Your love was handmade for somebody like me.” “We talk for hours and hours about the sweet and the sour.” That whole chorus. “Shape of You” scans as an OkCupid message from a dude with no social skills. Now imagine getting that same message about 500 more times, and you’ve got one of the most overplayed trainwrecks in recent memory.

4. “Don’t Wanna Know” by Maroon 5 feat. Kendrick Lamar / “Cold” by Maroon 5 feat. Future

For this entry on the list, I’ll be doing something different - I’m giving it to two songs. Sure, this is occasionally done as an excuse to avoid making a concrete decision, but there’s a genuine reason this time. The songs in question are “Don’t Wanna Know” and “Cold,” both by rock band-turned-space-wasters Maroon 5. These two songs are essentially minor variations on each other, and all the more evidence that Adam Levine and his producers band need to go away.

“Don’t Wanna Know” was released late last year, while the charts were still saturated with so much half-assed tropical house. The lyrics feature Levine at his most petulant and unlikeable, harping on an ex so much that the characteristically repetitive chorus just sounds more like a failed defense mechanism. As awful as all this is, it’s nothing compared to the fact that these guys managed to rope in Kendrick Lamar - arguably one of the most important and talented artists of this decade - and make him suck. It’s a brief 8-bar verse, and yet half of the bars feature words rhyming with each other. There’s one thing I do wanna know after hearing this dreck - what Kendrick’s paycheck looked like.

Oh-so-cleverly released on Valentine’s Day this year, “Cold” effectively treads the same water as the other song. It’s more turgid tropical bullshit, only at a slighter quicker tempo. The lyrics are even more bitter, bordering on misogynistic at points. Another A-list rapper features, but this time, it’s Future, and while his verse is pretty average by his own standards, he sounds incredibly uncomfortable over this beat. Nothing about this song disappoints me as much Kendrick’s verse on “Don’t Wanna Know,” but it might be slightly worse by virtue of being more of the same.

Both of these songs were released well before their cluelessly titled album Red Pill Blues was even announced, and they were formally left off the standard track listing. Still, because of their chart success, they were included on the deluxe edition of the album, if only to represent the death of tropical house as a viable trend and an enjoyable sound in pop. And, of course, the death of Maroon 5 as anything resembling an actual band.

3. “JuJu on that Beat (TZ Anthem)” by Zay Hilfigerrr and Zayion McCall

Since Billboard first put a greater emphasis on streaming in their calculations, it’s been interesting to see how songs perform on the charts. As a whole, album tracks chart longer than ever, and the last two years have seen such unexpected chart-toppers like “Panda” and “Bodak Yellow” thanks to the popularity of hip-hop on streaming services. Unfortunately, this also means that songs are also more likely to become genuine hits off of viral novelty than quality. It happened with the execrable “Watch Me” in 2015, and it nearly two years later, it happened with “Juju on That Beat.”

In retrospect, I may have been a little too hard on “Watch Me” when I named it the second worst song of 2015. I mean, we were still in the middle of Meghan Trainor’s window of relevance when it came out, and 2017 has seen rappers draw even more attention to their distinctive ad-libs. “Watch Me,” while still pretty grating, seems quaint and harmless now. The same can’t be said about “Juju on That Beat,” which is just as annoying and insulting to the intelligence as it was a year ago.

Let’s start with “That Beat,” which is lifted wholesale from Crime Mob’s crunk staple “Knuck If You Buck.” Forget what I said about the “Out of My Head” sample in “Bad Things,” this is particularly lazy. While rappers have used pre-existing beats in the past, this is clearly a dance song. Aren’t dance songs were supposed to have a unique musical identity to make up for inconsequential lyrics? The only audible difference is that the beat is transposed to a higher key, which makes sense if it’s meant to suit aspiring one hit wonders Zay Hilfigerrr and Zayion McCall’s more youthful voices.

It’s too bad that their voices still don’t sound remotely good. Hilfigerrr (not that the name matters) is particularly irritating, his out-of-breath yelps cracking like his balls just dropped mid-recording. And while I may have critiqued “Watch Me” for lacking actual rap verses, maybe it was for the better, as the other guy attempts to freestyle, only rhyming the first two of his eight bars and dropping such gems as “if I compared me and you, there wouldn’t be no comparings.” The only good thing about this song is that it’s mercifully short, perhaps the shortest hit song of 2017 that wasn’t by XXXTentacion or Lil Pump. By comparison, “Watch Me” is a masterpiece in minimalism.

2. “Say You Won’t Let Go” by James Arthur

I’m pretty sure my decision to name “Treat You Better” the worst song of 2016 might have been strange for some. Sure, I’ve seen the song on several similar lists (including one that has it in the same position), but the general public actually seems to enjoy the song a lot. Maybe that has to do with the fact that the music is so blandly inoffensive that most people wouldn’t bat an eye at the content. But apart from the patronizing lyrics and the laughable singing, that was part of my problem. White-guy-with-acoustic-guitar songs tend to piss me off because they’re churned out by dudes with aspirations to Real Musicianship whose compositional skills are limited, so the lyrics tend to be transparent in their douchebaggery. And while very, very few things are as bad as “Treat You Better,” James Arthur’s “Say You Won’t Let Go” fits this mold to a T.

As with seemingly all music this year, some context is necessary. James Arthur won The X Factor in 2012 (which should tell you everything about this guy’s musical persona) before signing to Simon Cowell’s Syco Records imprint and eventually releasing songs in which he used homophobic and Islamophobic insults and compared himself to a terrorist. He left Syco in 2014, but two years later, he released Back from the Edge, an album whose title practically begs for sympathy for his lack of a filter. “Say You Won’t Let Go” was the immensely successful lead single, which somehow lasted on the Hot 100 for a full year.

Perhaps knowing all this before hearing the song colored my distaste for “Say You Won’t Let Go” from the jump, but I think this song is fucking terrible. Over acoustic strumming and an infinitely recycled chord progression, Arthur recounts when he first met the love of his life, including a deeply unflattering line where she vomits (again with that filter!). The rest of the song delves into the same territory that Ed Sheeran already exhausted with “Thinking Out Loud,” and the whole thing just scans as incredibly disingenuous coming from him. Hell, he even describes the song as “really calculated” in his annotations on Genius.

Truthfully, the content and the context are the least unpleasant things about this song. James Arthur nearly mumbles through the verses before bringing his voice up another octave for the chorus, which sounds like a drunken bro singing “You’re Beautiful” at Karaoke. A lot of people have praised his vocals, but I might just hate them even more than “Swang” because at least Swae Lee sounded like he was enjoying himself. James just sounds ready to throw up, which is probably karma at work after that lyric in the first verse (not to mention pretty much anything this guy has said that put him at the edge in the first place).

Before I unveil my pick for the worst hit song of 2017, here are eight dishonorable mentions:

“Chained to the Rhythm” by Katy Perry feat. Skip Marley: 2017 was not a good year for Katy Perry, whose self-awareness seems to be diminishing with each album cycle. “Chained to the Rhythm” was the ever-so-obviously co-written by Sia lead single, which boasts an extremely out-of-place guest verse from Bob Marley’s grandson and perhaps one of the clumsiest hooks of the entire year.

“Thunder” by Imagine Dragons: At least “Chained to the Rhythm” had an actual hook, not just chipmunked repetitions of a single word. Because it’s an Imagine Dragons song in 2017, it’s also padded out a with a trap beat, more vague nothings in the verses and grossly manipulated vocals in place of any actual instrumental tones.

“Mercy” by Shawn Mendes: It’s nowhere near as condescending and misogynistic as “Treat You Better,” but it’s every bit as whiny and overwrought, even sharing the same warbled vocals incessant drum beat. Really, it’s a damn shame he didn’t actually drown in the music video.

“Drowning” by A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie feat. Kodak Black: Speaking of drowning, isn’t a song with this title and these piano chords supposed to be about something more interesting than bragging about jewelry? Also, an accused rapist shows up to mumble and make awful jokes about farts. Let’s move on.

“Look at Me!” by XXXTentacion: Oh yeah, there was also this guy, who’s been accused of some extremely disturbing stuff (seriously, trigger warning). I can appreciate some more aggression in the beat and even X’s flow, but the distortion makes everything nearly incomprehensible, which is probably alright since the lyrics amount to little more than edgelord crap. Fuck this.

“Down” by Marian Hill: “Down” doesn’t really have any personality to speak of, driven almost entirely by a woman’s breathy voice, which later gets manipulated into a boilerplate trap beat. Seriously, what is it about this kind of pretentious “indie” pop wallpaper that attracts such an audience?

“Issues” by Julia Michaels: I’ve talked a lot of shit about Julia Michaels and her frequent collaborator Justin Tranter in the past, but “Issues” is actually a pretty compelling exploration of mental health and relationships, and Julia is a distinctive vocalist in her own right. Unfortunately, the song does have issues, and one of them is how bad it needs to pick up the goddamn pace.

“All Time Low” by Jon Bellion: Jon Bellion has a lot of potential as a songwriter and producer, but his vocals sound a lot like Adam Young with slightly more testosterone. The lyric about masturbation is questionable too, but I simply can’t hear that chorus without thinking of this video.

And now, for what I consider worst hit song of 2017:

1. “Body Like a Back Road” by Sam Hunt

Choosing between this and “Say You Won’t Let Go” for the bottom slot on my list was admittedly much harder than usual, but the decision ultimately came down to one thing. Sure, James Arthur’s song disgusts me on a very primal level, to a point where I can’t really listen to the chorus without wincing. But would the song really bother me that much if Arthur weren’t a total dick with a horrific voice? Probably not. Thus, I had to choose a song that was so unequivocally bad that literally nobody could make it work. I had to choose a song in which the awfulness was spelled out right in the title: “Body Like a Back Road.”

Before we open the can of worms that is this song, one thing needs to be addressed. Yes, this is a bro-country song. In 2017. I could maybe see the appeal if this were released in 2014, which was not only the saturation point for this embarrassing subgenre, but also for the DJ Mustard production style that this song clearly takes its influence from. But in 2017, country music has thankfully been working back towards a more organic sound, and DJ Mustard has been replaced by guys like Metro Boomin and Mike Will Made It as hip-hop’s guiding hand. From the word “go,” this song is dated and lame.

Of course, lame is a huge understatement for the lyrical content. You can infer a lot of things from the title alone, and it’s even worse than you might expect. Sam Hunt seems to dedicate this song to his fiancee, which is perhaps one of the most misconceived gifts imaginable. For fuck’s sake, Sam, you’re a country singer. It’s par the course that you’ve been on a back road before, you should know damn well that this comparison is insulting. As if that weren’t bad enough, he attempts to elaborate, waxing unpoetic about her “curves” (a word he draws out in a particularly grating manner) and how the two of them “go way back like Cadillac seats.” While the imagery is more consistent than Train’s abominable “Drive By,” it’s just as gross.

But really, the most egregious crime “Body Like a Back Road” commits is just flat-out sounding like ass. Hip-hop and country don’t exactly have a lot of aesthetic common ground to begin with, so when the rap producer this guy attempts to emulate is DJ Mustard, the whole track ends up sounding as cheap and awkward as his early abortions like “Rack City.” There’s also the weirdly lightweight live drums, not to mention whatever the hell is playing that melody in the intro and bridge. The whole song is so out of touch with the times that I’m convinced it wasn’t just a Montevallo demo. Sadly, it seems the bro-country trend never really went away, and maybe it still has legs to stand on (legs that, at some point, it’ll probably try to compare to the confederate flag or something). But last year proved that mainstream country can be so much better than this, so let’s just hope that this subgenre finally dies for real this time.

Thanks for reading my list, I should be uploading the Best Hit Songs of 2017 later this week!