Over on Twang Nation yesterday, there was an interesting post titled "Americana Music and Craft Beer" that sidles up to making a few analogies that compare musicians to types of beer, which is a natural follow-up to concert review of Hayes Carll in which the writer quotes Carll's description of his fine tune, "KMAG YOYO."
Although I'm not all that familiar with his work but it's hard not to notice the guy because of his commercials, I found the author's description of Kenny Chesney pretty apt.
If there's a beer that exemplifies crap, it's Corona, my friends. The only way to make the stuff palatable is to put a lime in it to mask the stench.
I've also noticed, as the author relates, the popularity of PBR tall boys or 2x4s at local clubs that I've gone to.
But I drank PBR before it was cool. The hipsters have co-opted my beer of choice when I used to frequent the Flamingo in Kirksville. I mean, PBR is one part of my holy trinity of cheap, quality macrobrews.
But the author loses me a bit when he compares Carll and the wonderful Amanda Shires to brews I don't know. Even though the Chesney comparison seems appropriate, after a while, comparing musicians to beer ventures toward mental masturbation on a low order anyway. It seems like something my fraternity brothers and I might do (or did) if we were at a party that was a sausage fest.
If you look at the analogies with critical acumen, they leak just like how "leak" is a sketchy way to describe how they don't work.
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