Well, maybe -- if you remember McGraw in his pre-Faith era. Back then, he was the tune dude who made us all cry with "Don't Take the Girl" (1994) and left us some jukebox surprises like "Indian Outlaw" and "Refried Dreams," which teased and tempted us with a revitalization of a wild-side country era, with playful lyrics alluding to sin, but doing it tastefully in the manner of traditional country wordsmanship.
But then Tim married Barbie and lost his edge. He's become emblematic of the country music mainstream, floating the boat right down the middle. Like in politics, the middle doesn't mean much -- and that's Tim's kind of country. Nowadays, McGraw sings mush: wayward ballads of a cowboy coward, nothing much for us working fellas, except to fantasize about his wife.
But hey now, the man's coming to town, and he certainly draws a crowd. A certain type of crowd: tight-jean-wearing, butt-staring, mascaraed women complete with lace bras, comfy beds, and empty heads. Enjoy.
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