Dear Country Artist,
Someday it’s bound to happen to you — if it hasn’t already. You’ll find yourself with a few minutes remaining in a recording session. Or perhaps you’ll be fresh out of rehab and still feeling repentant. Whatever the impetus, it will suddenly occur to you that now is the time to record your own killer version of “Amazing Grace.” Don’t, I beg of you. I can’t stand it anymore. If ever a song deserved to be shelved for eternity it is this pompous, bloated effusion.
I was reminded anew of my aversion to the song — as if I needed the grief — while listening to Big & Rich’s “Between Raising Hell And Amazing Grace.” Call me a conspiracy nut, but I’m beginning to think that every aspiring country singer works from a “To Do” list that reads: “(1) Get a record deal, (2) Have a No. 1 single, (3) Marry badly, (4) Record ‘Amazing Grace.’”
“But,” I hear you protesting, “‘Amazing Grace’ is such a majestic piece of music.” No, my deluded darling, it is not. This self-loathing whine is wrapped in a plodding melody that merely fancies itself majestic. What, pray tell, is majestic about proclaiming to the world that you’re a helpless “wretch”?
It’s too late to stop the last generation of country artists from succumbing to this vile temptation, but there’s still time to re-route you younger folk. So I’m asking Carrie Underwood, Ashton Shepherd, Taylor Swift, Luke Bryan and all the other new arrivals to take this pledge: “As a gesture of humanity, I vow never to record or sing to a paying audience ‘Amazing Grace,’ unless, of course, doing so would divert attention from some act of personal moral squalor. Even then, I promise not to use bagpipes.”