Country Never Dies is the perfect album for those who think Morgan Wallen wrote “Cover Me Up.” This album leaves me asking why more often than any other question — and I have lots of other questions. From the songs themselves to the people singing them, the collection doesn’t make much sense.

There is no through line in these songs. Just because the songs are old doesn’t make them the same kind of country music. It’s like someone without a foundation in country music came up with this project.

Cue Gavin Adcock.

“I came up with the idea of this album one day when I was listening to some country music and realized that I’m never going to get to hear any new music from some of the artists, because they’re not with us anymore,” Adcock astutely observed and actually wrote down in a public statement. “I grew up listening to a bunch of these artists, and some of them are the main reason I’m in country music, and how I got my style.”

With just a few exceptions, this collection provides subpar versions of some great songs, originally sung by some of the best artists of all time. And while much of the coverage of the album suggests that providing a gateway for younger audiences to hear these classics is a universal good, this isn’t the case.

Adcock could easily have used his massive social media profile to tell his followers to listen to any of the originals at any time. He could have pushed folks to the very best versions of these songs, opening a new world of country music to younger audiences. Instead, as the executive producer of this effort, he’s making money off the classics. At least we’re sure Hank would have done it that way.

There is a long history of popular country stars covering great songs, including several of the artists whose songs are covered on this album. I don’t begrudge Adcock that part, but I question the value of creating this album in a time of instant access to nearly all recorded music.

Country Never Dies does little to add to the rich history of most of these songs. I really wanted this to be better, so I could say, “I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and he came through.” However, much like everything Adcock does, the product feels manufactured, falsely raw and made for mass consumption without much thought.

There are some highlights on the record, as I outline in the track-by-track review, but it isn’t worth the time. With ready access to countless versions of each of these songs across several streaming platforms, this project did not need to be made. It’s a vanity exercise, allowing these performers to pretend to be like the stars who came before them, even though they clearly can’t carry that weight.

Track Review

“Only Daddy That’ll Walk The Line” by Gavin Adcock —This is a solid version of a difficult song to sing. However, this recording feels like too much song for the signer. The complexity of the polysyllabic phrase structure is tortured in his mouth, and the way he slides into the refrain feels forced. You can almost hear him giving up on the second and third verses. Listening to the original back-to-back with this one, you understand why there was only one Waylon.

“Slow Hand” by Huson Westbrook — Why would you do that?

“He Stopped Loving Her Today” by Jake Worthington — I very much appreciate how hard this must have been to do. And unlike the other guys on this album who did their best to impersonate the original singers, Worthington brought his own deep feeling to this one. Even replacing the Nashville Sound strings with steel made this feel like his version. But you shouldn’t cover this song. It’s next to impossible to live up to the standards of the song perceived by so many as the best country song of all time. And yet, I’m drawn to it. This is one of the best songs on this list.

“Southern Nights” by Ashley Cooke — I’m confused by this song’s placement on the album. Cooke does a fine job with this R&B-infused number. But the very clean production does it no favors. This song has a more modern feel than any other song in the collection.

“Slide Off Of Your Satin Sheets” by Braxton Keith — I admit to being a Keith stan, but signing Johnny Paycheck, especially as a 25-year-old good guy, is hard. Keith’s vocals are young — it’s part of his appeal. But Paycheck never seemed young — he was always hard, scrappy and raw. Keith is the alternative to the bad boys — Paycheck is who all the bad boys want to be (even if they don’t know it). This was a strange song choice for him.

“Wayfaring Stranger” by Lanie Gardner — This is the best song on the compilation. The arrangement, production, and vocals (oh, the vocals) add a lovely chapter to the long history of this American songbook classic. This track clearly draws upon a history that this album so desperately wanted to convey — and did not on the other tracks. Gardner and the band deliver here.

“You Win Again” by Vincent Mason — Again, I ask: why would you do this? Mason does not have the chops to sing a Williams song — Junior or Senior — with any sort of energy besides that of a kid wearing his dad’s suit. It does no one any favors to introduce this song to new listeners in this manner.

“Kentuck Bluebird” by The Creekers — This is a perfectly fine, grassy cover of an early ‘90s banger. Yet again, I’m left wondering why.

“Simple Man” by Austin Snell — This isn’t a country song. It’s a rock song by one of the most iconic rock bands in history. End of story. Also, Snell can’t sing this rock song. His voice isn’t strong enough. “Simple Man” isn’t a song for a kid, especially one who needs so many production tricks in his own music.

“Big City Blues” by Shelby Stone — Stone does a great job of singing this, and the gender of the artists and subjects in the song makes it more interesting.

“Mama Tried” by Gavin Adcock — Much like “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” there isn’t a good reason to cover this song. But unlike Worthington’s take on Jones, Adcock only provides a passable barroom version of one of the best country songs to ever come out of California.

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