River Washed Hair – Zach Bryan Written By Creed Miller
Zach Bryan has a knack for singing about what’s going on in his life at this exact point in time. “River Washed Hair,” the second of his three Wednesday releases, is no different. Giving insight to things like his drummer, Steve Clark, quitting the band, it’s almost Zach Bryan’s way of checking in with his listeners. Instead of a 30-second clip talking to the camera for TikTok, he simply put his life updates in a song. This track feels very similar to “Greatest Day Of My Life,” which Bryan released in November 2022, where he sings about iconic events like his “Snow Rocks” concert and other shows from that leg of the tour, such as San Francisco, South Carolina, and more. This time around, Bryan covers his upcoming show in Michigan, and how he wishes his mom could be there, as well as other more wholesome memories, such as singing CCR around the fire. “River Washed Hair” does feel a little too long, especially given that it lacks a chorus. As such, the melody feels very rambling and repetitive, making it easy to zone out by the end of the song. Production-wise, it feels smooth and clean-cut. The harmonica in the intro immediately draws the listener in and feels like vintage Zach. The steel guitar is a subtle touch, but it goes a long way in creating an overall purity to the song. River Washed Hair” is a solid one-off release in context, but it’s just as well that it isn’t album-bound; it almost certainly would’ve underwhelmed and been drowned out on a larger tracklist.
7.2
Oneida – Tyler Childers Written By Creed Miller
After years of anticipation, Tyler Childers is finally sharing “Oneida” with his listeners. This is a tough situation for Childers, who’s caught between some fans wanting the raw YouTube version they fell in love with and others hoping for a more polished, produced take. In this case, producer Rick Rubin took a full-band approach, incorporating a fiddle, accordion, and more. While it’s a different version than what many are used to, it’s certainly no less quality. The track starts purely acoustic through the first verse and maintains the simplicity through the first chorus. Once the second chorus arrives, the whole band hops on board, and they work their way into a slick solo highlighting the fiddle. Despite the band’s full participation, Childers’s raspy voice is (unshockingly) a strength of the song and stands out above any instrument. At times, the instrumentation flirts with being a little chaotic, but it only adds to the energy without ever dragging the song down. This version of “Oneida” will be highly polarizing simply because there are two distinct types of Tyler Childers fans: those who prefer his stripped-down, acoustic sound of old and those who appreciate the full-band production. There is no way to say definitively which version is better because they differ in their own ways, with the new one being more developed. It comes down to personal preference: stripped down or fully produced, and there can be a time and place for each. However, it has been nearly ten years since the original version was uploaded to YouTube. Childers is an entirely different person, both personally and professionally, and this is highlighted through the more complete production. It feels like he reached a point to finish the song all these years later. “Oneida” may not be exactly what everyone hoped for, but it should still leave listeners mostly satisfied.
7.7
Crucified Son – Charley Crockett Written By Adam Delahoussaye
It’s official, folks, Charley Crockett has finally gone Hollywood. In just six months, he’s had his head spun from headlining Red Rocks, intimate features in Rolling Stone, all the way to The Mothership, talking Moon landings with Joe Rogan. That street-dealing singer has morphed from crooning under neon lights to being plastered on them in bold. But of course, he knows there’s still a catch that comes with the fresh bags of cash. Rather than gratitude given with a knife at his back and shelling out like a walking billboard, Crockett doubles down thanks to his work ethic and knack for speaking his mind. The former is blatant, as this track was released just five months after the release of his previous LP, The Lonesome Drifter. But it’s skepticism, shown in his talent for clever writing, that helps propel the singer and his single, “Crucified Son,” to new heights. A low-down, unbroken stride he’s accustomed to gets knocked around with new toys in the sandbox and a whole new wealth of opportunity befalling him. Paired with a sweltering backing chorus and true Western arrangements, the struggle with person and product becoming inseparable sounds refreshingly vintage. “Crucified Son” flits between parody and genuine self-awareness in a delightful pairing of signature Charley comforts with a touch of glitz and glamour, the showman always knowing how to set the stage.
8.6
Streets of London – Zach Bryan Written By Adam Delahoussaye
It’s worth noting that almost a year to the day of Zach Bryan’s Great American Bar Scene soaking in the stateside summer and his fame getting fired out of a cannon headed overseas, the Okie is now pining for home from across the pond. “Streets of London” comes in a grab bag of almost-made-its from his future sixth record, a harkening home after a tumultuous 2024. And despite the Dylan-fare and now expected Springsteen nods in these luscious horns and bleating harmonicas, the meat of the track is recognizably country from the first bite. Throughout, he rambles about how women that look like walking sculpted statues and dishes glowing off the China they rest on are no match for a bumpkin in need of a home-cooked meal. Rather than go full God, guns, and apple pie, Bryan tailors the motifs he’s borrowing to that everyman in every place persona the last record dialed in on. For an artist at his peak, reckoning with never truly leaving the hearth behind, it works wonders where more abstract expressions of the sentiment have previously failed him. In a lot of ways, Bryan is the monkey that’s been tasked with the typewriter for eternity. His never-ending prose is often rendered meaningless, shrouded in a smoke of aura so thick you don’t realize there’s nothing to decipher. But every once in a while, something sublime pops out of the jumbled, dissonant delivery.
8.8
Minute Man – Sam Varga Written By Jack Humphrey
When you’re not a household name and still in pursuit of that first true breakout moment, originality is the name of the game. We live in a time when consuming music is not only easier than ever, but also more efficient, and it takes casual listeners only a few seconds to form an impression of an artist they hear for the first time. Luckily, newcomer Sam Varga’s “Minute Man” feels tailor-made for that restless music industry. From the first few seconds, this breezy fusion of modern country-pop and folk-rock delivers an atomic payload of infectious enthusiasm. This time of year, sing-along-ready choruses are plentiful on your favorite “New Country” playlist, but there aren’t a lot of summer jams that will catch you off guard conceptually like “Minute Man” does. Varga imagines the end of the world with the sardonic edge of a chronically online zoomer and mostly sticks the landing with wry wit and evocative detail. The song works a lot better if you take it as a slice of pre-apocalyptic fiction rather than fake-deep social commentary; moreover, trivializing the end of the world skates a very thin line between disarmingly fresh and downright cringy. In the end, though, “Minute Man” gives you what you want from a good summer song: tons of replay value and an impressively memorable hook.
7.9
Burlington Pines – James Clark Written By Joel Reuben Pauley
With only two singles under his belt, James Clark plants his flag with his debut album, The Weight of Small Things. One of the clear standouts, “Burlington Pines,” makes a strong case for Clark’s talent, both as a writer and a vocalist. His songwriting feels personal and precise, built around honest details that resonate all the more the longer you sit with them. Lines like “Suddenly the world stops trying to spin” don’t just sound pretty—they stop you in your tracks. The song, written about a love that pulled him “off the floor of the ocean,” is both tender and powerful. His voice opens up in the chorus, revealing a natural rasp and a soaring belt that falls somewhere between Sam Barber and Chris Stapleton. When he sings “I’ll scream it to the top of those Burlington pines,” it doesn’t feel like a metaphor—it feels like a promise. “Burlington Pines” is just one of twelve tracks worth hearing on The Weight of Small Things. James Clark may be new to the scene, but with songs like this, he won’t stay that way for long.
8.8
Americana – Ryan Bingham Written By Joel Reuben Pauley
On “Americana,” Ryan Bingham loosens up and leans into a freewheeling narrative about losing his job and finally living life on his own terms. It’s equal parts daydream and declaration, as he sketches out a vision of post-9-to-5 freedom that’s rugged, messy, and completely untamed. Whether he’s “eating psilocybin in a backwoods cabin” or “laughing at jokes that no one dares to say in public,” Bingham lays out a vivid plan for what he’d do if the bottom ever fell out, and it’s less about revenge than release. The song trades in the tired trope of punching the boss and walking out the door for something far more personal: embracing the kind of off-grid, unfiltered life that corporate America could never offer. In classic Bingham fashion, it’s gritty, a little wild, and completely believable. Backed by The Texas Gentleman, the overall sound of this track is laid-back yet full of character, with a dusty, loose feel that allows Bingham’s storytelling to shine. Even the weirdest details—“eat some marijuana gummy bears in our underwear”—feel like part of the larger message: life’s better when you stop pretending.
9.0
My Truck, Some Weed, and a Guitar – Bayker Blankenship Written By Will Chapman
Point blank, Bayker Blankenship’s “My Truck, Some Weed, and a Guitar” is a directionless mess. It’s just a jumbled bunch of clichés seemingly strung together by a guy who just discovered rhyme schemes and thinks smoking weed makes him edgy. There’s no real story, no emotional core, just pick-me, teenage boy energy. The lyrics read like a pre-prepared checklist: Truck? Check. Weed? Check. Guitar? Check. Whiskey, women, and a dive bar? Triple check. The problem isn’t the subject matter; it’s that nothing here feels earned. “I go around the country, singing my heart on stage, sweet-talking honeys, hoping I get laid” might be the most unintentionally funny line we have heard in a while. It’s like if Kid Rock tried to rewrite “Simple Man” after two gummies and a vape rip. And then there’s the bridge: “California sober, getting Colorado high, fly to New York City with the bloodshot in my eyes.” Is this a flex? A cry for help? A JetBlue commercial? The song keeps throwing out imagery like it’s building toward something, but it never does. Like a high schooler with a dab pen, it’s all vibes, no vision. Barring that lackadaisical, unmusical, strum pattern that has unfortunately become increasingly popular in the country format, the production isn’t terrible. It’s clean, radio-friendly, and perfectly passable for a sad-boi emo country playlist, but it doesn’t save the song from feeling like a parody of itself. There’s nothing wrong with keeping it simple, but simple should not mean empty and uncohesive. “My Truck, Some Weed, and a Guitar” begs the question: “What were the folks who thought releasing this track was a good idea on, and does it come in edible form?”
2.1
Two Tone Trippin – Chase Rice, Wyatt McCubbin Written By Will Chapman
Chase Rice’s “Two Tone Trippin’” is the latest chapter in what’s quietly become one of country music’s most satisfying redemption arcs. After years of bro-country noise and party anthems, Rice has found a new gear with more grit, soul, and respect for tradition. For his latest effort, he brought some serious songwriting firepower with him in Wyatt McCubbin. McCubbin might not be a household name yet, but you’ve heard his pen. He’s written for Cody Johnson, Zach Top, Riley Green, and a handful of others, serving as a quiet but mighty force in the new traditionalist wave. Here, he steps into the spotlight with Rice, and together they deliver a spunky track almost reminiscent of an early Eric Church song: unpolished but tight, rough around the edges but undeniably musical. Production-wise, it’s loose in the best way; nothing feels overthought, but everything’s in the pocket. Lyrically, it’s a rapid-fire highlight reel of southern life: “Radiator hotter than a grease fire kitchen,” “houndstooth vinyl got them wranglers sliding.” The lines all flow so naturally, and you can almost hear the smirk on McCubbin’s face when he sings “bench seat kissing.” That “two tone, two tone, two tone trippin’” hook isn’t deep, but it’s sticky as a southern summer night, and that’s the whole point.
8.7
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