Now Nashville’s decided to try and make the Geico Caveman a superstar it appears, and it’s only appropriate, because to find anything fetching in this anthem to American devolution, your forehead has to stick out over your eyebrows so far that you don’t need to wear a hat in the rain.
You want to talk about musical “evolution”? This song is like some sort of reverse engineered audio trigger formulated by a comic book archenemy to cause mankind to swing a U-turn in the evolutionary process where all people want to do is purchase full size trucks, hang out near bodies of water, and drink themselves into a stupor so that an evil regime can waltz right into the places of power and seize ultimate control due to the widespread lethargy and indifference throughout society. With songs like this being blasted out to the teeming masses, soon the social order in society will be determined by who picks ticks off each other’s backs, and we’ll be slinging our own poo at each other to settle differences.
“Fix A Drink” isn’t a delicately-crafted beverage made with only the finest ingredients by a season mixologist using feel and instinct to make signature and customized liquid magic, it’s jiggered-by-the-book watered-down swill served up by an Applebee’s fry cook covering the bar’s swing shift because the real bartender had the shits. Funny thing is, Chris Janson’s been out there for the last year or so trying to sell records by pulling at people’s heartstrings about his hard fought sobriety. He was an inspiration to people for overcoming obscurity as a struggling songwriter and putting his family first. Now all of a sudden he’s the drunk-in-chief personally pushing the sauce because that’s what the record label wants. What a piece of shit move. Forget authenticity arguments, this guy is a downright sleaze.
Is “Fix A Drink” the worst country song ever? It’s worth bringing to the table for discussion, but it’s certainly one of the most formulaic: monotone, rapped verses with urbanized inflections and gesticulations from Mr. Neanderthal, that idiotic rising chorus that you hear in every mainstream country song, and the same exact drum beat that is in nearly every mainstream hit these days. This nitwit even has the audacity to name drop Hank. You know, like every one of these damn party songs do. But this is a long way from “Lost Highway.”
And like all these songs, the video does it one worse, relying on Luke Bryan for eye candy since Chris Janson and his scraggly beard are rougher than a peanut patty goober side up. I guess there’s some other cameos in there, maybe Dustin Lynch who’s jumped aboard the sellout train himself, and maybe LoCash or something? I don’t know who all these clowns are, but you can douse it all with Everclear and set it ablaze for all I care. It even shows these assholes chunking television sets into a river. Are they going to fish them out, or do I have to glue them to the end of my boot and stick them up Chris Janson’s pimply A-hole? Oh, and let’s have a video where everyone’s getting schnockered, and then they go shoot a bunch of fucking guns. GREAT idea of how to promote responsible gun ownership to mainstream country’s idiot masses.
I wanted to like Chris Janson, and because he isn’t just another Music Row pretty boy. His song “Holdin’ Her” was quite strong, and he’s one of the few newer artists who actually pays attention to the Grand Ole Opry. But trying to be a proponent of his is like owning a snake for a pet. At some point, you’re gonna get bitten. After all, he’s the guy who got his big break as a co-writer of “Truck Yeah.”
It’s 2017, and mainstream country music fans are slowly heading towards the fate of unintelligent protoplasm only there to suck up alcohol, while simultaneously sucking the life force out of anyone who sees country music as a place for meaning and substance that’s supposed to sing about people’s demons as opposed to making light of them.