Here’s the thing.
The opening verse of the title track reckons: “We don’t smoke meth, we smoke brisket.” Furthermore, it suggests that “we learn young what a thirty-ought-six is” — the fact I had to Google that is probably the giveaway that I’m Midlands, England rather than True South — before concluding: “tractor in the front, party in the back.”
I could end the review there, because you know what’s going on and so do I. But I won’t, for the simple reason that Rodney Atkins is brilliant at this. That, and reviews are generally longer than 100 words.
“Helluvit” is ready for the dirt-track diner, telling its tale of love against the odds with the sort of easy charm Atkins has always made sound effortless. And that, really, is the point of True South. It isn’t trying to reinvent country music. It is doing something much harder: making the familiar feel lived-in, warm, and real.
What makes the record especially notable is that it is Atkins’ first for seven years, a period in which he has watched his boys grow up. That passage of time colours plenty of this. On the fiddle-drenched “Toys In The Dirt” he reflects on his own upbringing, and there’s a lovely circularity to it: the boy looking back as the father looks on.
It is a welcome comeback, although given that Atkins has racked up eight Top 5 singles, six No. 1s and more than five billion global streams, it is not as if he had anything left to prove. Still, “Marry Me Again” has the sort of romance and soul that suggests it will add a fair few more listens to that total.
The harmonica that acts as a starting pistol for “Small Town After All” heralds a slice of warm-hearted fun, while the honky-tonk-ready “Hole In One” is the perfect blue-collar Friday-night drinking song. “The Real Thing” is a hymn to authenticity, taking aim in turn at fake country singers and a lack of faith, but with true love running through its veins.
“All Y’All” could easily be a TC3 song, and the reflection of “Years Are Short” is very much that of a father who knows how quickly the good stuff disappears if you’re not paying attention.
“Silver Bullets” reflects on something else entirely: a break-up. But at least, as Atkins points out, “you can buy a lot of beer not buying diamonds.” Surely Luke Combs’ “When It Rains It Pours” has a companion piece now?
The last couple add a special guest or two. Rose Falcon sings beautifully on the gorgeous ballad “Believe Me”, while Elijah Atkins helps with the reboot of “Watching You”, nearly 20 years on from the original. That one lands exactly as it should: not as nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake, but as a reminder that songs, like families, grow up too.
And that’s what True South does so well. It is a prime example of the universal nature of country music. Family, fun, work, love, regret, faith, Friday nights and the hope that tomorrow might be a bit kinder than today: it is all here. A throwback, perhaps, but in the best possible way.
I don’t know if this is the True South. But it is the one country music has been selling me for years — and honestly, that’ll do just fine.
Rating: 8.5/10
