Pictured: “I mean, really, take a look at these cuticles!” “Oh, Sam Andrews, I just don’t know what to do with you!”
Last weekend my step dad, Ted, and I drove to Texas in a day. We were moving my sister’s things to her new house in Waco, where she’s going to college. We woke up early, at 4:30 in the morning, and drove down Highway 35 through Wisconsin, the corner of Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma and finally into Texas at around 9 pm. The route wasn’t anything too spectacular, I gave up on taking photos about halfway through because the sights looked like the same hill or land we’d passed all day. We talked for as long as we could find things to say, telling stories or asking each other questions. I began thinking how funny it was trying to make conversations out of the smallest things.
“Can you read anything on that plane?” “Umm, USAF. Air Force?” “Yeah, probably. I think this is where one of the biggest bases in America is.” “Oh. Hmm.” “That’s a pretty big plane.” “Yep.”
Somewhere around southern Kansas we found ourselves short on topics and Ted flipped the radio on to the FM stations. Naturally, only country songs played on the radio that far south, so that’s what we listened to for the remaining hours. Songs about lovers, sons and daughters playing baseball, defending America, and riding horses (which I happen to be afraid of). The same deep, manly and monotone voice sang for hours and hours behind the same overproduced instruments and four chord patterns. We had a fine time in Texas, navigating our way around a town we’d never been to and enjoying a bit of the local food, which really isn‘t very vegetarian friendly. Who’da thunk? This trip was mostly a mission for my sister though, and not so much a vacation to Waco, so we left early the second morning and began the drive back. I was sure to hit the radio early and hold the dial on the AM stations, listening in on different talk shows and sports programs as we passed each border.
Recently I’d come across the new album by The Everybodyfields, and since the trip I’ve really been listening to it a lot. Boy-girl duo Sam Quinn and Jill Andrews play country music like it should be on Nothing Is Okay. The songs sound like they’re written with real heartbreak and remorse behind them, and the instruments are beat on throughout the album. Quinn and Andrews take traditional country music seriously on Nothing Is Okay, and if these twelve songs are any indication, I’d say they’re in a fight against the pop-country genre that is killing their roots.
The Everybodyfields - Nothing Is Okay
Aeroplane is the first track on Nothing Is Okay.
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