Dj Steckelberg
I am not the world’s greatest country music fan. There are a few country albums out there that I like quite a bit. I still know every single word on Garth Brooks’ “No Fences.” I listened to that album non-stop one summer.
I think however that country music has developed a bit of “pop envy.” Whilst channel surfing the other day I stopped on the country music video station because I saw the General Lee cruising through a Drive-in. The crappy title to the crappy song that followed was 19-seventy something that seemed to be one big product endorsement for a Hasbro retro line on E-Bay.
After that crap-fest was over, a song about waiting for Joe was sung by a long-haired guy who lets you know that he’s waiting for Joe…over, and over…and over again. CRAPTACULAR!
Just wait until the first country boy band hits the air waves, my friends; the apocalypse may be a welcome distraction at that point.
What did you think the Spice Girls were? Five like-minded women who all had a message of hope for six-year olds? No! They were simply the product of a slimy British record company exec. The same grease lubes the gears of the country jalopy as well.
As I reflected on the sad decline of this music I never particularly cared for in the first place, I wondered where Garth had gone. Then it hit me, it came to me as if in a dream…well actually while I was watching TV. He needed to go out and proclaim to the world his love of Dr. Pepper
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