Garth Brooks, "No Fences"

Mitch tries to find a new way to fly (some country into Newbury St.)

, and

Jun 14, 2023

Mitch’s Pitch:

Back when I was working on my doctoral dissertation* in American Musicology, I posited the theory that there’s really only two types of primal American music - blues and folk - and every subsequent American music style - jazz, soul, rock, country, etc. - comes from various combinations and permutations of those iconic, traditional black and white musical forms.

Over time, as black and white music grew closer together and reinvented itself into new and exciting sub-genres, the cultural gulf between black and white music culture seemed to get wider and wider. Most rock fans viewed themselves as part of the tradition of blues music, and rejected country music, largely as a rejection of the perceived culture surrounding country music (a.k.a. guns, god, and trucks), ignoring the fact that rock music comes from rock and roll, which comes from rockabilly, which comes from…the combination of blues and country.

That’s why I question so-called music fans who say they hate all country music except for Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson or whomever is the latest “acceptable” country artist (hi BMFS!). It has nothing to do with the music and everything to do with cultural perceptions. Johnny and Willie each recorded about 269 albums throughout their careers, and many of those records are chock-a-block full of the worst, cheesiest, and most cliched country music you’ll ever hear. But Johnny and Willie get the rock fan seal of approval because they’re “outlaws” - in other words, they might play country music but at least they act like cool rockers.

My pro-country agenda is well known at EONS, and I’m proud to wear that hat (even if I could never actually pull off a cowboy hat in real life), but truthfully I don’t really care about genres, I just care about great music.

Garth Brooks’ No Fences is absolutely great music, even if it’s country music, and even if Garth isn’t cool like an outlaw or a rock star (Chris Gaines notwithstanding).

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No Fences jumps out of the gate with the moody and (quite literally) atmospheric "The Thunder Rolls”, and ends with the haunting closer “Wolves” - perhaps the best song on the album - an empathetic tale of the decline of rural America.

In between is a strong collection of excellent story songs - the characters in "Unanswered Prayers”, "Wild Horses”, and “Friends in Low Places” are instantly recognizable and compelling - but it’s Garth's powerful yet tender singing voice that takes this album to the next level, elevating tunes like “Same Old Story”, "New Way to Fly”, and even a slight cover like "Mr. Blue”.

The album greatly benefits from eschewing traditional Nashville production techniques - thankfully there are more guitar solos than schmaltzy string overdubs - and, ironically, Garth is at his weakest when he panders to traditional country the most - the generic honky tonk of “Two of a Kind, Workin’ on a Full House” feels a little cookie cutter, even if the lyrics are cleverly written.

It’s time to tear down these genre walls and put Garth Brooks’ No Fences in the Newbury St. Collection. A great singer, a hot band, an excellent collection of songs, and a refreshing production style make No Fences a terrific listen and a worthy exemplar of all of our great American musical traditions.

*[Editor’s Note: the author barely made it through undergrad and did not really write a dissertation.]

CJ’s Response:

I’ve mentioned before in these pages that I was a chaperone on a tour for overprivileged teenagers the summer after I graduated from college. Though the kids were impossible, I loved my fellow chaperones. To escape the bus full of obnoxious Richie Richs, we would volunteer to drive the Ryder truck that held all the camping supplies. It didn’t have any air conditioning, but it did have a tape deck. So we rolled down the windows and cranked up the tunes as we made our way across the American West.

One of the other chaperones (I’ll call her Gretchen even though her name was Penny) was a frequent passenger when I piloted the boxy yellow van. She was good-natured and soft-spoken and kind. As a result, the kids absolutely steamrolled her. The Ryder truck was her only refuge. When it was her turn to pick the music, she always chose No Fences. While we meandered through the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, Gretchen/Penny would belt out “The Thunder Rolls” in a high, clear soprano. It was the only time I think she was truly happy on the trip.

That’s the best memory I associate with No Fences and its best song. I didn’t remember anything else about the album (except for “Low Places” because even metalheads heard that one) when I spun through it a dozen times this week. Mitch is right, it’s an atypical country album in the way it’s produced. Perhaps that’s why I like several of the tracks. In addition to “Thunder”, “This Ain’t Tennessee” and “Wild Horses” are good listens and “Wolves” sounds like it could have been the B-side to JCM’s “Rain on the Scarecrow”.

But there’s some dreck here as well. “Two of a Kind” comes straight from the Jamey Johnson school of terrible puns. “Victim of the Game” goes nowhere slowly. Very slowly. And “Unanswered Prayers” is a little bit of everything I dislike about country music.

I’m gonna pause here and answer the charges that Mitch implicitly levied against me about liking Johnny Cash and hating most other country music. Two counterpoints:

I’m allowed to enjoy an artist without devoting myself to the whole category. I certainly don’t hold it against Ken that he likes Black Sabbath and abhors heavy metal.
For a genre with dozens of top-selling artists, its own TV channel and (roughly) fourteen award shows per year, country fans sure are defensive about their music. Ain’t they?

I’ll give you this, Mitch. Without any caveats, recriminations or snark, I will say that No Fences is a good album. It’s just not great.

Sorry Gretchen/Penny.

Pitch Failed (You can choose the music next time we’re in a Ryder truck)

Ken’s Response:

“I don't like country music, but I don't mean to denigrate those who do. And for the people who like country music, denigrate means 'put down'.” -Bob Newhart

Old Newhart jokes aside, I had the benefit this week of being a little late with my response so I not only got to see the pitch and CJ’s response, I also got to participate in the seemingly endless text thread between us. Phrases like “J’accuse!” and “I demand satisfaction!” were littered throughout as my two esteemed colleagues battled back and forth in a (slightly) more adult version of “Is too! Is not! Ya huh! Nuh-uh!” It was riveting.

I was a very slow adopter of No Fences back in 1991; I was a Deadhead and a folk rock fan so I rejected country music on some made up principle that I created in my head. People like me weren’t supposed to like modern country music, which, in hindsight, is ridiculous. One of the great things about the Dead community is that individuality is supposed to be embraced, without judgment.

This album couldn’t be avoided, no matter who you were. My college roommates each had it on CD and every bar, club, stadium and arena in the greater Tempe area played “Friends In Low Places” and “The Thunder Rolls”, and slowly the music started seeping into my brain. As Mitch and CJ already noted, this wasn’t your typical country album, so not only did it become tolerable, I absolutely fell in love with it.

Sure, there are a couple of clunkers in there, but the music, the production, and Garth’s sublime vocals are more than enough to get this gem to the shelves of the Newbury St Collection. It’s a once-in-a-generation masterpiece that finally put country music in the mainstream.

Pitch successful (I’ll keep revisiting this one from my ivory tower)

Mitch’s pitch failed to rope the wind (the wind being CJ) and Garth Brook’s No Fences will be exiled from the Newbury St. Collection. What’s your take on Garth Brooks and his critically-acclaimed and publicly-adored album No Fences? Which Top 20 album from 1991 would you have pitched? Please let us know in the comments section.

Exile on Newbury St.

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