The Ninth Annual Nashville Scene Country Music Critics Poll: Voters' Comments

WHAT IS COUNTRY MUSIC?
2008 had its share of high school reunion country (with the feel-good nostalgic qualities of '80s rock anthems) and bumper sticker country (superficially assuaging anxieties about fragile small-town, Southern identity). Not that that's anything new for mainstream country. Reaching back for upbeat, youthful virility and a long-lost way of life has pretty much become the way of things. Still, there was an anomaly. A few acts found the spot where commercial country viability and broader critical acclaim—hipness beyond country audiences, even—might actually intersect: a vintage country sensibility. Patty Loveless and Jamey Johnson both went there, and Lee Ann Womack conjured old-school heartache, if not an old-school sound. Perfect timing for a vibrant "new" collection from Hank Sr. —Jewly Hight

With Bob Marley, Lil Wayne, Deep Purple, Kid Rock and Hootie all making appearances of some sort at the CMA Awards, the "what is country?" question is as pertinent as ever. But at this point it's also irrelevant. By now it's clear that whoever wants to "go country" can do it if their songs connect with somebody out there in the country audience or industry. It's the most inclusive genre—whether as a survival tactic or just good old Southern hospitality, I'm not sure—which is interesting, since people who don't listen to country tend to treat it as monolithic (as in the old standby, "I like all music except country and rap"). I think the inclusiveness is a great thing, as long as there are people still keeping the traditions alive in some form. I mean, why would a genre not want, say, Sugarland, to be considered within its boundaries? They're megastars, with big songs and personalities. Why would any genre reject the ridiculous amount of hooks in "Love Story" or Taylor Swift's youth and charm? —Dave Heaton

People are pretty quick to badmouth mainstream country music. And by people, I mean music snobs who think that the more obscure a band is the cooler it is. I am not one of those people. And I have to believe that if Taylor Swift sold 800,000 copies of her sophomore album in its first two weeks, I'm not alone. Life itself is deep enough, so can't we all just rejoice in the simplistic stories of country music? And enjoy the steel guitar, the banjo and the fiddle without having to wade through layers of guitar to do so? The best country music, to me, is the stuff that makes you laugh, cry and understand that someone else gets what you're going through. And if that someone is Swift, Kenny Chesney, Sugarland or anyone else who gets labeled as cookie-cutter Nashville, then so be it. —Alison Bonaguro

NEWCOMERS
Popular favorite Taylor Swift and critical favorite Jamey Johnson have one thing in common—they both write lyrics credibly from their own vastly different life experiences, working specific references and images they're at home with to do so. This is more than a little refreshing after so many charting hits built on three chords and a pretty lie. The other thing they share: vocal styles that recall and update older ones, certainly nothing unusual for breakout country singers. It just happens that Jamey Johnson's leathery but frank and vulnerable sound recalls Waylon in the '70s and Taylor Swift's breathy and sometimes thin labors rework for the kids those ancient sounds not of Shania, Faith or Martina but of Lilith Fair. —Barry Mazor

2008 should be remembered as the year outlaw country was reborn, thanks to Jamey Johnson and Hayes Carll. The latter, whose Trouble in Mind I'd missed until late in the year, is a "corker," as my Dad would've said. By the middle of the opening track, he's alluded to songs by the Band and Leonard Cohen, name-checked Louie L' Amour, and drawl-rhymed "drunken poet's dream" with "mescaline." That's my kinda country. So is That Lonesome Song, which wasn't just the darkest mainstream country record of year; it was also the smartest. I love the way "Stars in Alabama" nods to the '30s standard "Stars Fell on Alabama" when Johnson sings about his mom (who could probably hum you the latter), and I respect his turn at music criticism on "Between Jennings and Jones," an exercise in self-mythologizing that for once is fairly true. And I was especially moved by the first verse of "In Color," when his grandpa tells him about a black-and-white photo from the Great Depression and how Johnson "shoulda seen it in color." Looks like he just might, along with the rest of us. —Will Hermes

Taylor Swift is determined and tenuous and confident and wavering and incandescent, and the time is hers—and behind it all is a bomb of pain, and this pain has a name, and its name is "boys." —Frank Kogan

It's no small miracle that Jamey Johnson's starkly traditional-sounding "In Color" found a home in country radio in 2008. Sung with a deep, gritty twang, the song's mainstream success was one of the year's biggest surprises and one of its most encouraging signs. That an artist like Johnson can still find a home within the mainstream proves that despite so much hype to the contrary, real country music remains both artistically significant and commercially viable. With that, Johnson single-handedly destroyed the argument that country music must move to the center if it hopes to remain relevant. —Jim Malec