Garth Brooks “Man Against Machine”
Garth Brooks has sold over 170 million albums albums in his career -- more than any solo artist, including Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson. The only artist to have ever sold more albums than Garth Brooks is The Beatles. He has eight albums that have achieved “Diamond” status, selling over ten million copies each. He is, by almost any measure, the most successful living American recording artist. Personally, I own exactly zero Garth Brooks albums. As a avid and curious music listener, I am neither proud nor ashamed of this.
In fact, until 2015, I could not name a single Garth Brooks song. Part of this is a matter of consumption. I didn’t listen to radio, watch TV or read magazines that featured Garth Brooks prominently. Part of this is geography. Living in New York City is a sort of prophylactic against Arena Country music. And part of this is Little River Band. You see, when I was ten years old, the cassette that we played in our car -- every day -- was Little River Band’s “Time Exposure.” Any time the radio would play something with a beat (Michael Jackson) or guitar solos (Dire Straits) my mother would simply say, “too loud,” and pop in the LRB cassette. It would frustrate me, but, truth be told, I didn’t hate Little River Band. Huge choruses. Great harmonies. Chilling out on the water in Australia somewhere. It didn’t sound so bad. We didn’t all like Little River Band. Nobody in the family had them ranked number one. But it was the band that we could all not not like.
On the other hand, I always felt like Mom was pulling one over on us. That this not not likable band was a parenting trick to opiate us in the car and to keep the hormonal electric guitars and insinuating bass lines at bay. I think this suspicion of not not likable music is a big part of my Garth Brooks avoidance. If everyone agrees on him and I’ve never heard a bad thing said about the guy, something must be wrong.
And, to be clear, I was very aware of Garth Brooks. From 1990 to 2004, you couldn’t not be. I knew he was a massive country star -- an industry of his own. I knew that he would dabble in professional baseball each spring, embarrassing himself valiantly for charity. I knew he had a Rock Star alter ego that kind of flopped, but not totally, and still sold millions of records. I knew that, even as a grown man, he carried himself with an “aww shucks” humility that was charming. I knew that he basically retired from recorded music for about a decade to be with his kids. I knew that he married Trisha Yearwood, who was also a massive Country music star, after he and his wife divorced. Looking for something salacious there -- a crack in the armor -- I found that his ex-wife said something to the effect of, “those years on the road were very hard for all of us.” That was the worst thing I could find.
Oh. And, in 2015, I learned that Garth Brooks was the guy who sang that catchy, kind of funny song that I thought might have been a Jimmy Buffet song, “Friends in Low Places.” I made this discovery four years after I’d moved to Texas and attended my first company karaoke party. Everyone in the room but me knew every word to the song. And the entire company sang along with it, happily and drunkenly, three times that night. Yes -- it was not until 2015 that I actually learned of Garth Brooks’ most famous song.
It is with this back story -- the massive blind spots, unconscious biases and a very open mind -- that I approached Garth Brooks’ 2014 “comeback” album, “Man Against Machine.” Garth Brooks had not released an album in the trailing thirteen years. He’d not toured (though he’d played some high profile residencies). He had over a decade to reflect on family, fame, America, love and war. No doubt, he had a great deal of pent up creativity and a lot to say. I demurred in writing about the album for a couple of weeks. Was I up to the task? Was I qualified? I mean -- I listen to a fair bit of “Classic Country.” But I listen to very little “New Country.” Ultimately, however, the mystery and appeal of it all proved too great for me to delay further. I resolved to listen and listen and listen. And write. My approach is not as an expert in the form or the history but rather as a listener trying hard to figure out if I like Garth Brooks’ music or do not like it or can not not like it. “Man Against Machine” profoundly tests each of those permutations.
From the very opening moments of the title track, I braced myself. The clank of steel. Gospel singers. Slash-level electric guitar. Swirling synthesizers. “Man Against Machine” (the song) finds Garth Brooks exploring the very refined space between John Cougar Mellencamp and Styx. The verses are huge and the chorus -- “work! work! work!” -- aims for a “We Will Rock You” foot stomp. It’s not a form that other artists would even think of, much less take on. For the man who loves everyone and is loved by everyone, it is hard to find enemies. The enemies here are the machines -- a fairly low risk take. The track is big and loud, owing very little to traditional Country music. Instead, it sounds like the biggest bar band ever recorded.
As it closed, I realized that I was literally breathless. The song had done something that gargantuan bands do when they transition from restrained to abandon. The Pixies did it. Nirvana. Led Zeppelin. And, yeah, I guess Garth Brooks, too.
Also, I realized that did not not like it.
“Man Against Machine” (the album) is an absolute feast. Fourteen songs. Nearly an hour long. It explores every corner of Country, Roots, Folk, Swing, Rock, even Metal. There is quite literally something for everyone on this album. If Garth Brooks’ plan was to make music that every single American human could project themselves onto, he succeeds wildly. On this album, by my count, he channels, empathizes with or shows appreciation for:
Factory workers
Young women who are tired of dating “boys”
Older men who cautiously love younger women who are tired of dating “boys”
All American kids
High school football players
Veterans who made it back
Veterans who did not make it back
Firemen
Moms
Dads
Moms and Dads
Jilted lovers
Cowboys
Fisherman
Everyone who’s pulling their weight
People who love People
Also, by my count, the two groups he is willing to indict are:
Machines
Politicians
It’s not understatement to suggest that this approach ensured Brooks a market of, roughly, 100% of America. But, on behalf of 100% of Americans, I think Brooks kind of nails it. His voice is big and flexible and you feel him inhabit every word of every character as though it lives within him. The band sounds massive. The music, even the slower, quieter tracks, are readymade for arenas. You can picture the fist pumps, the lighters held high, the swaying, the line dancing and the singalongs. At fifty two, with plenty of time to prepare, Garth Brooks was not going to miss. You were not going to not like him.
“She’s Tired of Boys,” is a Roots Rock track that, in spite of a vaguely cringey premise (a love affair between the Man who calls her “Kid” and the Girl who calls him “Dad”), actually lands. It’s rolls nicely and offers up Trisha Yearwood’s completely lovely backing vocals to insert the female character into the song. “Rodeo and Juliet” is a pretty perfect, fun, taut, two minutes of Country Swing. “Midnight Train” is a big Country tune that picks up steam and slide guitar, while it mixes metaphors about the “pouring rain of a midnight train.” Not only do I forgive the clumsy lyrics, I don’t not like the song. And the album’s closer, “Tacoma,” about a man driving across the country (or further) until he forgets about the Girl, is a huge Adult Contemporary Soul track that sticks the heartbreak while it basically invents a new genre.
There were no major crossover hits on “Man Against Machine.” However, that is much more a testament to the challenges of radio formats than to quality of the songs. This is an expansive and ambitious record wherein most of the songs jump genres.
In between the epic openers and closers, Brooks’ does his darndest to give a little something to everyone. There’s the middle-aged couple slow dance of “Send ‘Em On Down the Road,” the semi-manipulative, probably pro-life, lullaby tearjerker, “Mom,” and the impossibly on-brand anthem, “Cowboys Forever.” None of these tracks are among his very best. The lowest common denominator lyrics almost get the better of these songs. But Garth Brooks is such a good singer, and a better performer, that I don’t not like them.
“Man Against Machine” explodes with cliches, hackneyed fables and generalizations so broad you could drive the “Man Against Machine” tour motorcade through them. The biggest offender may be “People Loving People,” which, as the title suggests, posits that the solution to the ailments of our crazy, messed up, modern world is “people loving people.” Incredibly, after I listened to each song multiple times simply as musical performance, I found myself not only forgiving the cloying stories, but saying to myself, “You know, he’s kind of right!”
Clearly Little River Band, and their ten big Billboard hits, have nothing on Garth Brooks. LRB is pleasantly inoffensive. Garth Brooks is daringly, offensively not not likable. It’s an extraordinary accomplishment. The man has no enemies. No Haters. If this is all a facade -- the humility, the charm, the open mind, the family values, the charity -- then it is the greatest long con in the history of the world. On the other hand, if this is really Garth Brooks, then I can definitely, finally say that I don’t not like him.