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And their destiny and prospects are better off for it. It’s still the same guys, and mostly the same sound. You get the sense they would rather quit than let down their long-term fans, or themselves. But they refuse to tinker with what has led them here. This is surely what they would hear if they sailed their ship for Nashville looking for a larger slice. They could shorten some of their songs, or contemporize the instrumentation. Their melodies could rise a little bit more.
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You can look at The Turnpike Troubadours as an ass kicking live band, or you can look at them as a band behind a singer songwriter that happens to have some ass kicking songs. This is new country, only the roots are still attached, and the branches fan out wide. If they wanted to pivot just slightly and go some big rock route, they could blow up huge. That’s the thing about the Turnpike Troubadours: they’ve exuded a patience and steadiness that has put them steadfastly in touch with the underlying spirit of country music. These guys have already overshot any expectations allotted to them when they started out, so why try shoot for the moon now, and risk losing the mojo? You don’t get lines like “You bet your heart on a diamond and I played the clubs in spades” without letting the inspiration behind a song come to you, instead of forcing it out based on an arbitrary timeline. If they even have to take two old songs to fill out a 12-song track list, which they do by re-recording “Bossier City” and “Easton & Main” from the band’s first record, then so be it. If it takes three years to cut a record, it takes three years to cut a record. But frontman and primary songwriter Evan Felker is not going to force the issue, and he’s certainly not going to make a living primarily singing the songs of others. Their 2012 record Goodbye Normal Street had the independent and Texas country world agog, and it felt like if they only had the alacrity to turn around a year or so later and release another, similar to how Sturgill Simpson sling shot himself to the top, the Turnpike Troubadours could be on top of the world.Īs it is, the momentum ebbed some time a while back, and the songs became a little tired. There’s not much to complain about with the Turnpike Troubadours, but one concern is the amount of recorded output during their eight-year stretch. The Turnpike Troubadours are hip, and country. There may be some country fried frat boys, but these aren’t bros. Many of the boys are clean cut, and the girls are pretty. You’ll see all those elements intermixed in the crowd for sure, standing on the periphery, shuffling around in the crowded room. It’s not about country punks or leather-clad Outlaws. It’s not filled with 40 and 50-something divorcee boot scooters. However, you go to a Turnpike Troubadours show, and it’s a different story.
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And yet this is what’s lost on the many who seem to think country’s future is in shying away from this indomitable aspect of the music. This is where country’s beauty and sway over the human spirit emanates from. No matter what else is going on, you can count on country being there. The beauty of country music has always been its ability to remain a steadfast compass point in an tempestuous world. Even some of the primary names in the Texas and Red Dirt scenes have backslid into this predictable role.Īnd then here’s the Turnpike Troubadours, years junior to many of the other big names from the Oklahoma music circuit, starting off their new, self-titled album-the first in over three years-with a five-minute waltz built upon the rake of the fiddle. Left and right we see country acts we once thought to be insulated from the winds of change, if not shelters against them, rushing to incorporate electronic drums, synthesizers, other inorganic accouterments, or shopping list dirges of tailgate scenes into their music after being counseled on how this is what you need to keep the music scintillating to the modern ear. Some will tell you country music must evolve, must adapt to survive and stay relevant in the current cultural climate.