It should be of no surprise to anyone that as we check in on the bulbous, pus-filled malignant growth that is Dustin Lynch’s pop country career that it’s in need of laceration, draining, and intense radiation to keep it from metastasizing and destroying country music. To think this asshole is a Grand Ole Opry member is enough to anger the blood and keep one writhing in the sheets at night.
His latest monstrosity is a naked advertisement for General Motors that like the meth heads in your neighborhood going after your catalytic converter, pilfers key elements from the iconic song “Drift Away” made famous by John Henry Kurtz and later Dobie Gray. No, don’t think about this similarly to Luke Combs and his cover of “Fast Car.” “Chevrolet” is a gross bastardization of an American musical standard in the attempted service to keep Dustin Lynch’s stupid career steadfastly on the county fair and casino circuit.
Interesting that Dustin Lynch releases this piece of shit the same week that the actual blue collar workers that he attempts to emulate with his performative grandstanding actually went on strike from Chevrolet assembly lines all across the United States. One of the things they’re agitating for is protection from AI and technology taking their jobs. You could serve Chat GPT in a handle of Tito’s and it would still spit out a better song than whatever we have here. Dustin Lynch is like a stand-in for artificial intelligence since he’s an automaton for the worst elements of the music industry with absolutely no soul, self-awareness, or musical conscience.
In fact, if technology ever wants to subjugate the human race, replicating an army of Dustin Lynch’s with their strong jaws and repertoire of entirely vapid and disgusting music, and then proliferating them throughout society would be a smart way to pummel the human race into submission.
Consumer advocates should demand an immediate recall of Dustin Lynch’s “Chevrolet” on the grounds that it can result in serious bodily injury and or death when someone hears this song while operating a motor vehicle and immediately succumbs to violent and uncontrollable projectile vomiting. I’d rather be mangled in a gruesome car wreck and left within an inch of life, bleeding out on the asphalt as opposed to having to listen to this song once again.
How does a song like this even get written and released? Is Dustin Lynch like the Senator Menendez of country music, walking around with gold bars and envelopes full of cash from General Motors pension plans stuffed down his dusty denim to influence peddle for the automobile industry? Sure, multiple iconic American songs mention the Chevrolet car brand. But never as such a non-sequitur, and never cut and pasted so sloppily into an otherwise sanguine and revered composition.
“Chevy Van” by Sammy Johns that was later covered by the great Waylon Jennings comes to mind. Taj Mahal’s “Chevrolet” kicks this song’s ass and makes off with its lunch money. Dustin Lynch proves unequivocally he’s a creative-bereft shell of a hackneyed entertainer devoid of any original ideas in his cranium with this pathetic effort. And Jelly Roll who guests on the track should be embarrassed that he allowed Lynch to piggyback off the country rapper’s current relevancy so anyone would even pay attention to this track.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is the last dying gasp of Music Row songwriting by committee trying to clear its books of all final inventory before the songwriters from Appalachia, Texas, Oklahoma, and elsewhere finally an irrevocably take over and transform country music back into what it originally was supposed to be, which was three chords and the truth, and people singing from their hearts.
Get lost with this crap, Dustin.