I’ll say it again - Tyler Childers has become my favorite active Country artist. By far. His albums are always wildly off the mark that Nashville tries to set; he is vocal about his principles, and he sticks to his guns; his lyricism is often sharp and direct, which makes it hilarious, personally, that the music video for “In Your Love” caught people off guard; and he cares, deeply, about the history and development of the genre.
This is raw Country music by an artist who refuses to pander and isn’t afraid to call out the issues he sees elsewhere in the genre. And this whole album feels like a callout. But it’s also a love letter to classic Country. It sounds downright archaic at points as it explores the diverse sounds and styles from Country music’s decades long gone.1
The album is only seven tracks long, and the total playtime ends at 28 minutes. It’s not long, but there’s a lot going on in this compact little package.
The album launches with its title track, “Rustin’ in the Rain”. It plays, of course, on the idea of tools being left to the elements and going unused. And while, in the lyrics, Childers sings “Do not let my heart just fall apart/Rustin’ in the rain”, there is a thick layer of entendre going on outside of these last two lines of the chorus. This song is heavy with innuendo; enough to make Shakespeare proud, I think. And, musically, it sounds very like an 80s honky-tonk anthem with the majority of the instrumentation, with the exception of the incredibly high-pitched lead guitar lines, which sounds like a style of electric guitar you might have heard in the 50s or 60s.
Next is “Phone Calls and Emails” which, aside from the obviously-modern technical references, sounds very much like it would be from the 50s or 60s. I’m talking, specifically, Patsy Cline. My grandmother was very fond of her Patsy Cline CD, and, stylistically, this is spot-on. Now, this may be intended to represent that specific era, but it is, in my heart, Patsy Cline.
The third track takes us, in a way, back to Childers’ last album – 2022’s Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? – as it’s a track which leans into the genre’s close tie with Gospel music, focusing in on a specific verse (Luke 2:8-10, which is also actually the title of the song). Except…there’s a twist. The concept actually leans on the application of this verse in Christmas plays - it’s the moment when the Angel appears to the shepherds to announce “tidings of joy”. And Childers, here, chooses to focus on the more probable initial reaction of the shepherds – namely, terror. This Holler article breaks it down in detail for those interested.
The fourth song is a cover of Kris Kristofferson’s “Help Me Make It Through the Night”. Now, I never really had much appreciation for Kristofferson. His music was often sort of bare-bones with really simple accompaniment. But he is an important figure in the genre for his role in the Outlaw movement and, subsequently, his participation in the supergroup known as The Highwaymen. And it’s incredibly fitting, I think, that Childers chose to cover song by one of the “Outlaws”, generally, and a Kristofferson song, specifically.
“Outlaw Country” was a subgenre that leaned on older subgenres, such as Western, a lot, but it was more strongly defined by this group of artists – Jennings, Nelson, Cash, Coe, and Kristofferson, among others – who were bucking the trends being set in Nashville. Kristofferson’s “anti-pop” style may be the reason I don’t feel particularly drawn to his music, but it worked for him in spite of everything the big labels in Nashville were doing. Childers, today, finds himself as part of an Alt-Country movement which is also fighting against the mainstream trends in Nashville – trends which, for the last decade-plus, have been dominated by the likes of “Bro Country” and hyper-patriotic anthems which have ultimately led us to the politically-charged sunset town theme song which is Jason Aldean’s “Try That in a Small Town”.
Further, Childers is also one of those Country artists speaking out against the genre’s mainstream push into right-wing politics, largely, and simply, by trying to maintain a sense of compassion and equality in his music. He’s joined in these efforts by a sizable, and growing, cohort of artists which include Chris Stapleton, Jason Isbell, Eric Church, Margo Price, and more. And while the core of this group is, again, simply making their own music the way they want to make it, the politics remain present. The “Outlaws” of the 70s and 80s, including Nelson, Kristofferson, and Jennings, leaned liberal in the wake of the Vietnam War. And they did so publicly. To the point that Kristofferson had an encounter with then-newcomer Toby Keith which has become a bit of a legend at this point. Keith contends that it was all made up, of course, but feel free to view the two linked articles on it.
With all of that said, Childers’ cover of “Help Me Make It Through the Night” cuts the tempo in half. His version is much more somber and contemplative, and speaks to the gradual change in discourse over mental health - especially with the decrying of the traditionally toxic masculine expectations. Childers’ version feels more emotionally genuine, while Kristofferson’s original is still so upbeat that it’s somewhat casual in tone despite the evident emotional need in the lyrics.
“Percheron Mules” is a Bluegrass-infused jam with elements from multiple decades, from the 30s to the 60s, which functions largely as a love song to his mules. According to Childers, his grandfather worked with mules until the 90s, and the animals are the backbone of the old sharecropping lifestyle, so he has a special affinity for them. Holler, again, has a nice detailed breakdown of the song. Mule imagery also appears in “Rustin’ in the Rain” and “In Your Love”.
The penultimate song is the one that fits the rest of the album the least - “In Your Love” is an incredible love song and the album’s lone single (thus far). It may be intended to showcase a modern Country track utilizing elements from these many old styles, but that feels like a flimsy excuse for fitting it in. That said, it’s still far-and-away the best track on the album.
Childers said in an interview that several of the songs for this album were conceived of under the concept of pitching songs to Elvis Pressley, and the final track on the album really captures that well. “Space and Time” sounds very much like an old Elvis song from the 50s, especially with the pulsing piano. And that’s really all there is to say about it.
The album is, as evidenced by the length of this review on a short album, thick with intent. Even the length of the album, as he says in an interview with the New York Times, is intentional. Each of the last (now) four albums has been a countdown, starting with ten songs on Purgatory. It is, apparently, a countdown to retirement, and it may mean that the overall quality of his albums, as actual albums, only goes down from here.
I love the way this one was built, and the central messages it pushes. Especially this baked-in metaphor that Nashville has largely left its history, the sounds and styles that built the genre, ‘rusting in the rain’.
That said, even though these songs are well-done, they’re, largely, niche. Some people will enjoy them immensely for what they are, but others will find them — again, I have to use this word — archaic. It’s great that Tyler is using this album to connect the genre back to its stylistic roots, but a more thorough blending might work better for modern listeners.
Myself included.
Rating: Teal Green
I should take a moment here to underscore that this is an important topic for me, as well. I may be a diverse listener with a fondness for metal nowadays, but for the first ~15 years of my life, I listened basically only to Country music, and that included going backwards several decades because that’s what the radio did once a week.