Rascal Flatts nearly acknowledges as much with the title to their 2007 follow-up to Me and My Gang, Still Feels Good. After all, if the formula ain't broken, why bother messing with it? And the band doesn't mess with it at all, unless the very vague rap of "Bob That Head" more Toby Keith's "Let's Talk About Us" than Cowboy Troy could be counted, for even the Jamie Foxx cameo on "She Goes All the Way" slides by relatively unnoticed. Foxx's inexplicable presence is the most overt signal that Still Feels Good is more pop than country, a criticism leveled against Rascal Flatts for some time now, and one they keep shrugging off because they do adult pop quite well. They continue to do this easy, smooth sound well, but increasingly they're doing it without distinction.
Everything on Still Feels Good sounds fine the uptempo tunes are bouncy without being sprightly, the ballads are sweet without being too sappy but few songs jump out and grab attention. The first single, "Take Me There," is a gently pulsating pop tune, "Here" has a surging chorus ideal for both arenas and offices, "No Reins" vaguely sounds like Pat Benatar's "Shadows of the Night," "Bob That Head" rocks the party mildly, "Help Me Remember" is a textbook power ballad, while "It's Not Supposed to Go Like That" reveals a semblance of a social conscious. All of these ever so slightly stand out from the rest, but they also all settle into a soft mosaic of smooth pop that is as soothing as a warm bath. It's something that may be cozy, but it's not quite memorable, but based on the album's relentlessly relaxing vibe, Rascal Flatts isn't all that concerned about being anything more than easygoing guys next door. In other words, they're once again the most normal stars in either country or pop, but Still Feels Good suggests that there's not only a fine line between ordinary and dull, but that the group is on the verge of crossing it.
Hot Pick: Winner At A Losing Game
C'mon - Keith Anderson
The first time around, Keith Anderson was pumped up and pimped out, a city cowboy decked out in XXL shirts and singing about Podunk towns, but none of his slick arena anthems burned up the charts what clicked were the sentimental ballads like "Every Time I Hear Your Name," songs that helped him get on People's list of 50 Hottest Bachelors. Given all this, why wouldn't Anderson choose to tone down the excesses of his 2005 debut, Three Chord Country and American Rock & Roll, and get a little soft and syrupy on its 2008 follow-up, C'mon!? And so he does, deciding not to follow through on the party-hearty exhortation of his chosen title of C'mon! well, apart from a couple of rave-ups, none of which feel quite as ready for a happy hour at Buffalo Wild Wings as any random track from Three Chord Country.
Such subdued surroundings have the natural side effect at focusing attention on Anderson's writing, which isn't a bad thing, as he's not an untalented songwriter, boasting the crackerjack George and Garth duet "Beer Run" on his résumé, along with the Big & Rich hit "Lost in This Moment." Certainly, his writing is stronger than his voice, which is strangely sweet and delicate, especially coming from somebody with such well-defined biceps, but on C'mon! he's trying hard to have a hit, so he winds up with songs about "Sunday Morning in America" and Billy Ray Cyrus shuffles about somebody needing a hug. It's easier to take than the oversized arena country of his debut and it feels closer to Anderson's comfort zone as a performing songwriter but there is still a smack of desperation to this softer stance, as if Anderson is happy to do anything to get on the charts, whether it's signing up for any endorsement deal that comes his way or singing any piece of country corn he can dream up. Maybe if C'mon! succeeds in turning him into a star he'll be secure enough to settle down and simply write and sing, as this album, unlike his debut, does show he has skill as a songwriter it's just that he'd rather see himself in the Top Ten than see his songs there.
