While its members are clearly talented musicians, Virginia country group Old Crow Medicine Show delivers an astoundingly accurate caricature of unintelligent, hillbilly country music with its fifth album, Remedy.
The record is sure to please country fans, as it contains all of the genre’s usual elements: banjo, fiddle, hit-or-miss harmonica, resonator guitar, and stand-up bass, with a bonus accordion occasionally adding an unnecessary harmonic background to the already thick sound. Each member of OCMS plays his instruments well, and their vocal harmonies are always spot on, but those skills only emphasize the band’s overly simplistic style.
Luckily, most Remedy songs are written with concise construction, ending promptly after displaying their musical and lyrical ideas and avoiding unnecessary repeats (save for the relentless double chorus of “Tennessee Bound,” which is sure to make you stomp your cowboy boots on the floor of your wooden-plank front porch).
Frontman Critter Fuqua’s hyperbolic Southern accent drizzles a thick layer of country slime over the already twangy album.
His one-dimensional narratives contain many stereotypical country themes, including strenuous relationships (“Sweet Amarillo,” “Shit Creek”) and drowning one’s problems in alcohol (“Dearly Departed Friend,” “Firewater”).
Album opener “Brushy Mountain Conjugal Trailer” recounts the puke-worthy tale of a prisoner who gets a conjugal visit from a vaguely described woman and decides to take their sexual relations to a trailer. The next morning, another vaguely described character, Old Mr. Hangman, offers the narrator freedom from incarceration in exchange for some time with his “pretty lady.”
In OCMS’ story, this woman’s body is used as a simple bargaining chip. She doesn’t get a name, personality, or even hair color. Her existence is a mere novelty to the song’s narrator and to OCMS. And that’s fine with them; each chorus approves of its preceding verse with a cringe-inducing wail of, “C’mon/We’re unshackled tonight/…/So let’s kick it in the brushy mountain conjugal trailer.” The trashy tale is not only disgusting, but also poorly told, signaling listeners looking for clever, emotional music to move along.
If listeners do stay, they’ll hear barking dogs give way to the racing fiddles that introduce “8 Dogs 8 Banjos,” which is sadly not a Weird Al Yankovic parody of the country genre. Reaching the pinnacle of “redneck music,” this obnoxious ho-down asserts that the titular items, along with hot coffee and sweet tea, are all one needs to be happy.
OCMS may have intended “8 Dogs 8 Banjos” to be a heartfelt promotion of companionship and music, but since the band doesn’t specify why these values are important, the song comes across a shallow list of objects one might find on a Western-themed scavenger hunt.
The narrowness of Fuqua’s worldview is best represented in the love song “Sweet Amarillo,” where he proclaims that “the world’s greatest wonder, from what I can tell, is how a cowgirl like you could ever look my way.” Tragically, the object of his affection runs off to join the rodeo, leaving listeners with the whine of an unpoetic, dejected cowboy.
While its lyrical universe is largely vapid, Old Crow Medicine Show does offer a few well-written songs.
The acoustic guitar-centric, pedal steel-laden “Dearly Departed Friend” paints the heartbreaking picture of a man at a close friend’s funeral service. The tune is clearly sincere and might have been touching, if only the sentiment weren’t cheapened by a heaping helping of country clichés like American flags, barbecues, and kids riding four-wheelers.
Another glimpse of potential emerges in the folk-inspired “O Cumberland River,” but OCMS’ ever-present two-step country rhythm poisons every tune it touches. In fact, the arduous, countrified trot permeates most of Remedy, making myriad songs much more annoying than they have to be (“Brushy Mountain Conjugal Trailer,” “Doc’s Day,” “Sweet Home”).
Only one Remedy track is beyond the reach of the word “annoying”: beautiful album closer “The Warden,” a subdued folk tune with warm vocal harmonies. As a plaintive harmonica solo cries over arpeggiated banjo chords, “The Warden” tells the story of a guilt-ridden prison guard. Each of its verses reiterates the same concept (because of his guilt, the warden is a prisoner, too) with varying degrees of poeticism. The insightful tale makes a strong case for OCMS’ songwriting, but cannot hope to alleviate the headache left by Remedy’s 12 preceding tracks.
Old Crow Medicine Show’s fifth album may be called Remedy, but is more likely to cause ailments than cure them. While a handful of earnest moments shine through, the vast majority of the album will have listeners projectile vomiting into their spit cans.
Old Crow Medicine Show – Remedy tracklist:
- “Brushy Mountain Conjugal Trailer”
- “8 Dogs 8 Banjos”
- “Sweet Amarillo”
- “Mean Enough World”
- “Dearly Departed Friend”
- “Firewater”
- “Brave Boys”
- “Doc’s Day”
- “O Cumberland River”
- “Tennessee Bound”
- “Shit Creek”
- “Sweet Home”
- “The Warden”