Flophouse Jr. - Woodland
(Flophouse)
Sometimes I think that I might like country music, but that I just haven’t heard the right stuff. You know, if I were to hear some of that good old timey stuff. Johnny Cash is cool and sang about getting jacked up on cocaine and shooting his bitch. People seem to think that Hank Williams was some kind of hard ass. But, if you don’t really put any effort into it all you ever encounter is junk like the Dixie Chicks, which has got to be an affront to anyone who seriously listens to any kind of music at all. Flophouse Jr. is not that fake, but they are still pretty fake.
They got some acoustic guitars, they got some banjos, they got a steel guitar. They have an urban, store-bought folksiness. They got some songs about hard times, regret, and honest to goodness honestness. They are also lifeless. They are dull. They got just over a six pack and a half of songs that fall somewhere between jaunty reflection and reflective pluck. None are moving. None are memorable.
I don’t believe for one second that anybody in Flophouse Jr. ever grew up in the hills, or the sticks, but maybe the boonies, because they are from Canada. But that alone should permanently exclude them from playing countrified anything (along with fellow Cheesehead Shania Twain). Skip this one and buy some more Palace/Bonny Billy records. Hell, at least Will and Ned Oldham are from Kentucky.
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