Lately, Riley Green has exploded into a new stratosphere of popularity, making the latest two years of his eight-year-old career the most notable span. In that time, even given the massive recent growth, the music hasn’t really changed much. Green’s records have never been too ordinary on paper, but there’s a charm that makes his artistry stick out. He follows in similar footsteps to artists like Tim McGraw and Rodney Atkins, both stylistically and thematically. In his latest album, he doesn’t shy away from the beer and trucks, but he also doesn’t miss his chances to strike deep. That’s Just Me dives into the identity and heart of the guy whose hand can’t resist reaching into the lyrical beer cooler.
Off the bat, you get a strong dosage of what’s wrong with the album. As social media chatter has already pointed out, the first batch of songs on the tracklist open with nearly identical acoustic guitar intros that feel like slight tweaks to the start of “My Way.” Seriously, it sounds like he figured out how good it sounds to slide one finger between three notes before playing a chord, and decided that was his new formula.
That aside, nothing super distracting or offensive exists within this record. Repetition, however, does show up in other ways. In many of these, Riley Green plays a character who is fresh out of a relationship. In a few others, he digs into his own background, providing a rather redneck yet compelling look into his life. This kind of repetition builds upon a few running themes, making all of this songwriting feel more authentic. Whether or not his love life, upbringing, and values resonate with all his listeners, it is always cool when artists include elements that are true to who they are, and that seems to be his goal here.
On the topic of true stories, “P.O.S.” immediately comes to mind. After so many dating rumors between Riley Green and Megan Moroney, this has felt like an intentional shot since it was first teased. Especially so, given one line that addresses his ex talking some smack at the “Hair salon.” Green is equally moody and playful in every line of the track, using it to highlight his habits and country qualities.
“Runs In The Family” and “Got That From You” do a similar thing: Riley spins a yarn while simultaneously shedding light on the people and events that shaped him. Yes, he’s checking a lot of mainstream country boxes, but he’s doing more than the bare minimum requirements of a dress-up, ever-pleasing slave to country radio.
As Riley’s roots are present, so are his influences, with both Brooks & Dunn and Randy Owen from the legendary Alabama guesting on That’s Just Me. In “Pave All Them Red Dirt Roads,” Green reflects on his own life experiences while also paying his respects to B&D’s “Red Dirt Road,” singing the original chorus together at the end. On “Lookout Mountain,” Riley and Randy explain the feelings of watching a lover drive away for good. Although it could be interpreted in a few different ways, it really seems like they are planning to jump “over the edge” of the mountain, whiskey in hand.
The other features on this record are Hannah McFarland and Jake Worthington, who both deliver great performances. Jake’s howling vocals on “Well, Well, Whiskey” give “ear candy” a new definition, with his verse alone enough to warrant repeat listens.
As most of Green’s catalog does, this album sounds incredibly tight. The vocals, instruments, and production are all top-tier here, and honestly, that high-fidelity packaging is a huge part of what makes this music so listenable. The same goes for the lyrics. Shuffling through his discography, you may find yourself surrounded in southernisms and continuous declarations of Alabama pride, but you won’t hear anything nearly as scribbled as “Fish, Hunt, Golf, Drink” in there.
One way he keeps things fresh on That’s Just Me is by adding a few beachy tunes. On “Bartender in Destin” and “Beach Happy,” Green almost comes off as a grittier, modern-day version of prime Billy Currington. While these aren’t the most interesting of the batch, they are both decent and feel refreshing when mixed into a tracklist of nineteen songs.
Two songs in this tracklist stand out from all the rest. “Ol’ Stray Dog” is one of the album’s more compelling character studies. Riley narrates a lonely, wandering character, stating “I’ve spent half my life just running, and the other half getting home.” While it’s unclear whether this is a direct expression of how Green himself actually feels, the storytelling makes a strong impact. Something about the delivery feels just real enough to connect with, so much so that it barely matters whether it’s biographical.
The closer, “Ten Pairs Of Boots,” is even more personal, even though it doesn’t seem to trace Riley’s actual life. While it borrows the same countdown structure of Morgan Wallen’s “20 Cigarettes,” it is incredibly well-penned, following the main character through different stages of his life, with each pair of boots marking another chapter along the way. By the end of the song, you’re completely invested in the story, having watched an entire life unfold in just a few minutes.
In “That’s Just Me,” Riley Green respectably sticks to his guns. Rather than chasing new trends to maintain his recent popularity, he stays true to the down-home style he’s been refining since the “Georgia Time” days. There’s certainly an overflow of similar guitar intros, but they don’t detract from an album that consistently feels genuine and well put together. Alcohol and women certainly appear, but they serve as key elements in stories that feel thoughtful or, at the very least, clever. Overall, this record solidifies he doesn’t feel the need to reinvent himself to remain relevant.
