Lainey Wilson calls her musical style “bell-bottom country“, and I’m not going to disagree with her. What I like is how she describes country music — “we lived the lyrics” back when she was growing up in Nowhere LA, and I think that’s always been country’s appeal, on its most elemental level. And she’s got the voice to carry it, oh yes she does.
I also like that she’s not one of the pretty young things that Nashville seems to push out like Simon Cowell pushes out Brit boy bands. Nope, our Lainey’s one of them big ol’ country gals, with a big voice and a big songwriting talent — and I love it.
I will say that the girl needs to stick to those tight bell-bottom jeans, though:
Not her best look. She’s country, not r&b or rap.
She sings purty, but if your ass is bigger than your Telecaster, maybe leopard print tights is not your look.
Unless those are actual leopards hangin’ on back there.
Is it so WRONG that I got mildly turned on by that last sentence?
In my younger days, I used to frequent the bars along the backroads of the Midwest. You know, the kind of places where the beer was ice cold, the local preachers used to warn us about, and the band played behind a chain-link fence. If you were lucky, the band had a girl singer, and if you were really lucky, she could carry a tune and knew most of the words, even though she might not be a “looker.” Remembering back all these years, those were pretty good times. You might get your skull split by a flying chair, but nobody ever got shot.
Not much of an actress, despite having trimmed down for a small role in Yellowstone. I didn’t know she was a country singer.
Color me mucho disappointed with the current season of Yellowstone (Kevin Coster’s latest vehicle). Looks like it belongs on the fucking Hallmark channel. I tried to get into 1883, billed as the Yellowstone prequel. It started out as a serviceable Western with some nice performances, which are tragically sucked into the black hole of the Elsa role. Elsa is the innocent, teenage supermodel blonde bombshell daughter of the gritty, hard as nails protagonist. Who herds cattle day after day in the same pristine, form-fitting blue dress that Never. Gets. Dirty.
Ever.
Because cattle were driven by cover girls in 1883. Look it up. Plus they have her doing the most asinine voiceovers in the worst Southern accent ever. [ominous music setting the tone for a melodramatic reading from Elsa as hillbilly Shakespeare] “And now we left Texas behind to become the composers of our own uncertainty.”
Ye gods.
And another thing: I can’t STAND the spaghetti Westerns, Clint Eastwood or otherwise. Cheesy beyond description. Horrible Italian actors made horribler by the asinine dubbed dialogue. Ridiculously hamfisted soundtracks. Super duper uber closeups so we can count the Italian nose hairs. Gag me with a rancid meatball.
PS: Would someone please shove that harmonica up Charles Bronson’s ass? Many thanks. Carry on.
I would guess “just not a fan of the genre”.
Country has never been my favorite genre, but the best of it is always worth a listen. I’ve always been enamored of Ode To Billie Joe. Classic country storytelling; it’s almost like a novel. Decades later, I’m still wondering what she & Billile Joe threw off the Tallahatchie Bridge.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaRacIzZSPo
Dolly Parton described country music as “Three chords and the truth”.
If you haven’t already, watch Ken Burns series on country music.
Mark D
She’s a cutie in my book. Of course any gal younger than 45 looks like she’s 13 to me.
But (and I say this having lived through it) I am NOT, NOT, NOT a fan of the 70’s bell-bottom platform shoes look. Ugh. Kill it with fire.