Unlike his wife Faith, McGraw committed no egregious sonic offenses on his way to the top of the country charts, and given the kneejerk disdain Middle America elicits from my bicoastal cohort, I'd as soon leave him alone. But in a nation polarized far more cynically and effectively by the ruling class than the shallowest alt ideologue could dream, he has to be called on his love song to a Lady Liberty whose America includes no urban places, on his imperialist assumption that Mexico is for runaway spouses ha ha, even on his domestic bedrock, as if that's as socially responsible as rugged individualism need be. And then there's the matter of "Who Are They," which goes so far as to blame "safe sex" and the replacement of "what the hell" by "what the heck" (I swear) on the owners of this newspaper (honest, named as such), called "funny boys" when he means "f*gg*ts" because "They" so decree. F*ck that. I don't much like how David Schneiderman treats unions, but I'm here to tell Timbo that my boss is a better family man than any damn country roadhog. "I wonder if They like to fight," muses Timbo on his way to finding out where "They" live. Me, I use my words. If any Nashville thug lays a hand on me, I'll sue him within 50 cents of his ignorant life. (Grade: C+)
- © R. Christgau/Village Voice