Cody Johnson and the Cost of Being a Christian

 Tonight I listened to the new tracks released as part of Cody Johnson's Leather Deluxe Edition, and I thought, "Oh, hmm."

It's a very interesting mix of songs, and some of them I found underwhelming.  "Overdue" was very country, but nothing in the lyrics really caught me.  "How Do You Sleep at Night?" was more clever than it appears on the surface, but the chorus really dragged on.

I really liked "The Fall," and I think I was one note away from goosebumps.  I love how the chorus drops down at the beginning into the lower notes, and then slowly rises.  I will admit that after hearing "worth" nine times in the chorus, I was starting to question what that word actually means, but I was also tired so I'll chalk that one up to me.

Cody Johnson didn't seem like the solid family man that he usually appears to be on a lot of these tracks, and that was kind of weird.  I know that an artist's songs don't always reflect their actual life, and I'm sure that's especially true in his case since he doesn't write many of his songs, but it still felt unbalanced.  I often think of him in the same vein as Luke Combs, but I think of Cody Johnson as being even more established and mature, and it was odd not seeing that reflected in the music.  "I Wished It Was You" was particularly frustrating.  But "Over Missin' You" seemed more true to life, and was also extremely well-written.

Okay, why the freak did I start writing this at 11PM.  It definitely wasn't so I could ramble on about every single one of the thirteen tracks that were for some reason added onto a twelve-track album.

The last of the original tracks is called "Make Me A Mop," which I believe I've mentioned on here before.  Interesting title, right?  Interesting song.

The last of the new tracks is called "The Mustang."  And it's also very interesting.

If you're used to Cody Jinks or Zach Bryan or Miranda Lambert, or basically anyone, you'll think that song is about something entirely different than what it is.  It's probably an ode to freedom, to wildness; it probably acknowledges the conflict and the pain that comes with that, but is almost proud of that price.

Let me back up for a second, and actually step away from music for a moment.  I was talking to someone recently about nominal Christianity vs. true faith in Christ, and about how the difference is seen in what you're willing to sacrifice.  Nominal Christians in the South often see their faith as part of their "brand" or identity.  A true Christian is willing to give up their identity for Christ.  They are willing to be changed to look more like Him, even when that is painful.

Morgan Wallen is a great example of nominal Christianity in song.  And I say that not because I want to bash, but because he's one of if not the most popular artist in country music right now and that message is very much out there to be consumed.  "In The Bible" describes it perfectly.

Cody Johnson's music is actually the perfect example of the opposite.  And in particular the two songs I mentioned: "Make Me A Mop" and "The Mustang."

Key lyrics from "Make Me A Mop":

Make me a shovel, make me whatever

A handle on a cup you glue back together

If breaking a man just makes him better,

Then do what you gotta do

The rest of the lyrics follow the same theme.  It's a song full of genuine humility and submission to God.  It is so far removed from the secular mindset, it's almost shocking to hear.

"The Mustang" is, in my opinion, even more shocking.

The start isn't that odd.  It sounds very typical Gospel-y, he was saved from his wild ways, etc.  There's a mustang comparison, but it's easy to not take the metaphor too seriously.

I used to run just like a mustang

With my head down in the wind

At a pace too fast to recognize

The places that I've been

Living up my years of freedom

Like the words to a song

I found myself believing

That I can make it on my own

Then he's saved out of that, and finds himself free.  The only thing that might give you pause is the last line before the first chorus:  I surrendered all I had, and let the master take the reigns.  If you don't like thinking of Christ as Lord that might not go down incredibly easily, but it's still a very normal Christian concept to hear.

The second chorus, however, takes the mustang metaphor and pushes it further.

Often looked upon as beauty

When the mustang runs and bucks

Some criticize the ones we ride

And pull behind our trucks

But they were put here with a purpose

That the wild ones have yet to find

Like me, they just need breaking down

To open up their eyes

And the chorus:

And see I'm free

I'm not scared and I'm not running

I'm right where I'm supposed to be

Yes I'm free

I know from over there

It might look like captivity

But on this side of the fence

It feels like free

Of course there are undertones of this theme in much of country music.  Songs about giving your life to Christ and stepping out in faith.  Brantley Gilbert actually has some of the most sincere expressions of faith in mainstream country music, and has talked a lot about faith and alcoholism.

But I have never heard a song that subverts these specific expectations.  Because he's absolutely right: we do see the wild horses as the most beautiful, and see it as a shame that they get broken and lose their wildness.  There are songs specifically about that, and ones that describe people the same way.

I think there's also a stigma about acknowledging that the Christian's life has to include giving things up.  People want to focus on what it adds, and the joy and the peace, and it's so true that Christ is worth more than all the things we could ever give up for Him.  But we tend to avoid saying anything that could indicate that Christianity has unpleasant parts.

The fact is, true faith in Christ and all that it entails will not be appealing to someone whose heart has not been changed by the Holy Spirit.  Certain aspects will, but not the whole package.  I think that is what is so shocking to me, that he and one other co-writer wrote a song designed for mainstream consumption that I'm not sure non-Christians can even relate to.

To unbelievers, it looks like we're in captivity.  But in Christ, we can see the freedom we have.  Freedom from sin, from guilt, from fear.  Freedom from trying to find meaning in all the things that have no meaning apart from God.

So I guess you could say I liked the song.

Fall Album: KING by Tucker Beathard

 Well, it's my first post of the year, and it's already fall.  I'm sitting outside in what basically amounts to perfect weather; cool enough for a light jacket, but not cold, and a little breeze every once in a while.

I don't have a favorite season (no season is consistent in North Carolina anyway), but I love when summer turns to fall.  I love being able to ride with the windows down without sweating through everything I'm wearing, having more options as far as comfortable clothing goes, seeing the leaves turn warm colors, and being able to spend time outside going on walks, or sitting or talking with friends, or just watching the birds wheeling around against giant blue skies.

I also love being able to break into my fall playlists.  It's not that I can't or don't listen to them at any other time of year, but they never hit as right in July as they do in October.  I listen to individual songs that seem to suit the weather and the mood of fall, but what I really treasure is when I can find a whole album that fits the season.  I have a couple, but for me the dark horse that I've been able to come back to over and over again is KING by Tucker Beathard.

I say dark horse because I have never heard anyone in my circles talk about Tucker Beathard.  I typically listen to the independent guys, the Texans, the Appalachians, the ones who don't have a label and don't need one, because their fans are absolutely crazy about them.  Cody Jinks, Charles Wesley Godwin, Sturgill Simpson, etc.  I read Saving Country Music, and I watch Grady Smith videos on YouTube.  I haven't intentionally listened to the radio in probably a year and a half.

Tucker Beathard is a Nashville boy, born to industry songwriter Casey Beathard.  He was signed to a label when he was 20 years old, and those who would call it nepotism are probably partially right.  Tucker's never really seemed to take off.  He has 74.7k monthly listeners on Spotify.  If you compare that to Kody West, who unlike Tucker doesn't even have a Wikipedia page, it shows how bleak that number is.  Kody has over 388k monthly listeners, and only tours inside Texas.

On the surface, it looks like Tucker Beathard was set up to succeed, and wasn't good enough to.

"20/10 TN" came up on one of my Spotify daily mixes before I had premium, and I don't think I gave it too much thought initially.  This is pretty normal for me, sometimes it takes me a couple listens to really let a song sink in.  It turned up a couple more times, because Spotify didn't really know what to do with my tastes.  And at one point, it caught my attention in a big way.  It was not a normal song.

Music-wise, it was pretty standard.  Mainly guitar and drum, a good melody but nothing crazy.  The lyrics, though, start with "Hey, it's me, I'm just wondering where you are?  I woke up late, I think the game's about to start."  And then we get a second phone call, and he talks about what's happening in the game.

I mean, that's weird enough.  It could be a song just about football, something like "Boys of Fall" but focusing even more on the actual game itself, and I would respect that somebody cut a country song taking football seriously, instead of just using it as an item on a list of things a country boy loves.  But then the chorus comes in with a new intensity.  "And by the way I meant to say that I'm sorry 'bout last night.  I didn't mean to make you cry.  But did you really mean goodbye?"

I mean, where did that come from?  I thought we were just talking about the game!  The chorus ends by him saying that the miracle he's watching (Tennessee beating Alabama) is evidence that he can change.

More football.  More apologies.  The game ends with a Tennessee win, but the girl is still gone.

It's a song of dichotomies.  The game on one side, the relationship on the other.  The courage and intensity of Tennessee beating one of the best college football teams in the country, and the passivity of the man sitting on the couch watching them do it while he pleads with a woman who is driving away from him.  His competing desperation and excitement.

Because Spotify realized that I liked that one, it sent a few more my way, and I listened with varying degrees of interest.  At one point, I realized I just needed to listen to the album.

I can understand why KING isn't pulling in the streams on the same level as Dangerous or American Heartbreak.  It doesn't have any clear big hits.  It has variety and a lot of charm on certain songs, but nothing seems to punch through that minimum level of infectiousness required to win over the populace.  I kind of think that makes it a better fall album though.  Fall is not as loud as summer, or as dreary as winter.  It exists in the in between, and that's where KING tends to settle in.

What else makes it a fall album?  Well, there are a couple clear references.  We've already talked about "20/10 TN"s football theme, but "You Would Think" says "You would think this time of year, when the leaves begin to fall, that you would think of fires and flannel shirts, and I'd be worth a call."  As far as I recall, the album doesn't contain any references to any other seasons.

But there's also a general atmosphere.  It's not an entirely slow or sad album by any means, but the there's a strong tinge of melancholy on many of the songs.  The last song, "I Ain't Without You," clinches it.  It is actually a joyful song, but it's about the effect his brother has had on him, written in the wake of his death.  Fall is all about beauty from death.

I don't need to justify this being a fall album, but I just did.  So that's out of the way, in case it was in anyone's way before.

Another very interesting theme on KING is God.  I've wondered, given the fact that no song on the album seems to supply the title, if King itself is actually referring not to Tucker, but to God.

"Only," by far the darkest sounding song on the album, describes in self-loathing fashion the brokenness of his condition, the ups and downs he goes through without any self-control, the vices and coping mechanisms that he uselessly seeks comfort in.  He says, "I just need to run to the open arms of the only one who knows me," and if you're not listening carefully you'll think he's talking about a woman, but he's not.  He's talking about God.

"Find Me Here" gets in on the self-loathing, and paints a picture of a man lying in a hotel bed after a one night stand, watching a preacher on the TV and hoping that Jesus doesn't come back at that moment.  It uses details like his cross tattoo and the Bible he's using as a coaster for his beer to show the hypocrisy, so we can understand the shame and the fear he's feeling in this moment.  It's interesting to note that this is by far his most listened to song.

On the other side of the spectrum, "Can't Stay Here" is the most fun song.  It's cathartic after so many immature and difficult situations to finally hear him firmly shutting the door on an unhealthy relationship, and it comes with a chorus that's easy to sing along to.  I was very excited to hear this song come over the speakers at a mini golf place earlier this year.

The last song that I want to specifically point out is "Faithful."  There's a modern mindset that we see everywhere that people should follow their hearts.  Indeed, that to not do so is in some way morally objectionable.  It's a cliche at this point, the couple that files for divorce because, "We fell out of love."  People use it as an excuse for adultery all the time, and the effects are devastating.  "Faithful" says, "Let's do what everybody swears is just too hard to. [...] Let's be faithful."

Again.  What a weird concept.  Not, "I'll always love you," or "Marry me," or "You're the only girl I see."  

"Let's be faithful."  Let's make a commitment, and stick to it.  How incredibly cool.

Tucker Beathard is a weird dude.  KING is a weird album.  Go give it a listen.  

Happy fall, y'all.