MUSIC REVIEWS
Toby Keith - White Trash With Money
Davin Allun Jones
About as far away from the Brokeback-styled cowboy as possible, the brazenly honky tonk Toby Keith has earned his share of detractors thanks to the way he holds his right wing philosophies and numbskull patriotism principles so dear, but in recent years he has managed to be one of the country genre’s top sellers thanks to his tell-it-like-it-is approach. Continuing to embrace his redneck roots and don’t-give-a-damn attitude, the country superstar Toby chucks out another strong album with his tenth effort, White Trash With Money, which finds him switching things up with a new label and producer.
The first release on his Show Dog Nashville imprint, Keith replaces long time producer James Stroud with singer-songwriter Lari White, a former TV talent show winner turned respected country-soul indie artist. The odd couple would seem to generate some refreshingly rebellious new sound to blow everyone’s minds away, but her touches are subtle: adding strings, organs and kazoos for a far richer palette without disrupting Keith’s signature throwback stamp. Only first single “Get Drunk And Be Somebody” truly brings something different to the table, wrapping it’s corny concept (think a honky tonk version of Johnny Kemp’s “Just Got Paid”) with a horn-infused Vegas-styled glitz that dangerously straddles the line between over-the-top camp and fun-loving blue collar anthem. Save for the Springsteen-esque “Note To Self”, nothing else here is as flashy, which seems a little off for someone as attention-grabbing as Keith, but the singer retains his “edge” with all the macho honesty that litters the disc, assuring original entertainment amidst it’s classic melodies and instrumentation.
Never willing to appear as too much of a wimp, Keith makes sure to constantly position himself as what he feels his a guy’s guy. His idea of taking the family out consists of fast food (“Pick out a combo super size”) and a trip down to Wal-Mart to “let the kids pick out a prize”; he routinely forgets anniversaries and birthdays; soothes the pain of one break-up with liquor (“I took your leaving with a grain of salt, tequila and a slice of lime”) while pretending he was better off without her anyway; and on the strongest of several soothing lullaby ballads, avoids the potential ego-crush of admitting his true feelings by dropping the cocky line “Why don’t you just crash here tonight”. His fine use of self-mockery keeps his otherwise languid musical surroundings entertaining, especially when he ventures down controversial lanes sure to start people talking. Everyone might not enjoy the hilarious storyline of “Runnin’ Block” to which he cringes his way through a sex session with an overweight woman for the sake of brotherhood (“Sometimes you got to bow up and take one for the team”, he growls) but the more potent “Ain’t No Right Way” dares to create more hysterics with it’s anti-abortion/ pro-prayer-in-school message.
Longtime fans may come away a little disappointed by White Trash With Money since it mainly repackages everything we’ve come to expect from Keith and it would be in the man’s favor to give in more to the less-polished Waylon Jennnings and Hank Williams-type rebel styling that seem to inspire him. But the mullet-ed cowboy’s output still remains more exciting than a majority of what of his contemporaries generate, and if the arrogant person he plays on record is as real as he appears to be, the man probably already knows it.
