If you have been reading this blog for any measure of time, then you’ve probably noticed that we talk about Frankie Ballard a lot.
It’s not unsurprising for specific artists to stick in your head. After all, we each have taste and when an artist manages to tickle the receptors in your brain perfectly, you'll also have a hard time not talking about them consistently. I have friends who feel that way about Brad Paisley or Morgan Wallen, Carrie Underwood or XXXTENTACION. Obviously, I think my taste is superior, but that is where the joy of talking about music comes from.
For whatever reason, the music of Frankie Ballard has hit those receptors in my brain. I've been an avid consumer of his music for a reasonably long time, especially considering the lack of new music since 2016.
This may cause a surprise, but his smash hit album Sunshine & Whiskey came out TEN years ago as of this past April 3! Initially, the intention was to time this to drop on the exact day. Oh well, at least it is close.
Two thousand and fourteen was just a year of country music, but for the modern consumer, it was one that probably had a strong impact on their relationship with country music. If you are on the younger side, 2014 was the sound of your childhood or your high school years. If you are older, perhaps the apex of bro country did some real damage to your relationship with the mainstream of the genre. Regardless, it was an impactful period.
I want to take this ten year anniversary to reflect on this album. Not as a review, but as a recollection and reflection on the era and the album’s place in that time. A long time contributor came back special for this post. I would like to welcome Burd back to Today I Heard.
Burd here. It’s good to be back.
It has now been ten years since the release of Frankie Ballard’s debut album, Sunshine & Crazy. I remember hearing songs of his like "Helluva Life" and the title track on the radio as a kid, but I never really paid much attention to him. I was just a kid at the time and didn’t really care about thinking critically about music. Now that I’m older, and I see how the bro-country movement is widely regarded as one of the worst trends in country music history, we wanted to take some time to shine a light on this underrated album and show an example of bro-country done incredibly well.
When I met Joe, I had gotten more cynical about music than when I was just a kid vibing out to Frankie’s music on the radio, so when he recommended his sophomore album, El Rio, I admit I was skeptical. I had this preconceived notion that Frankie was just some trend-chasing bro, but then I listened to the album and heard one of the slickest albums of the modern day. It immediately made me want to check out his debut, and that one was just as good.
Yes, admittedly Frankie’s music isn’t the smartest in the world. Nothing on this album is gonna blow your mind or anything, but not all music has to.
Charisma absolutely oozes from Frankie, and that is what makes this album so great. Yes, there is literally a song called "Drinky Drink" on here, and yes, it is one of my favorites on the entire project because of how fun it is.
That being said, this album also isn’t afraid to go into deeper and more mature subject matter, it isn’t all just partying and fun hooks. "It Don’t Take Much" and "Don’t Tell Mama I Was Drinking" are both standouts. In the former, Frankie sings about how easy it is for life to slip out of your control, and the latter goes over how people want to be remembered in their dying moments.
Hits like the aforementioned "Helluva Life" and "Young & Crazy" are pure bro-country songs, no doubt about it, but they also have a bit of an introspective side about growing up and how the good times aren’t gonna last forever. Yes, this album is incredibly fun and dumb at times, but don’t let that make you think it doesn’t have anything to say.
I truly think in a different era, Frankie could have been one of the biggest stars on the planet. He has so much charisma, the dude can absolutely sell a hook, and he can play the heck out of a guitar. If you haven’t heard them already, definitely go check this album out, and then go check out "El Rio," I promise you won’t regret it.
I, in many ways, share Burd's thoughts, but have a different angle on it. Instead of bro being the music of my childhood, it was the music that laid the ground for the scene that existed when I started paying attention to non-Top-40 radio stations.
Let’s talk about bro country. Primarily composed of a handful of ingredients; hip-hop cadences and drum loops, hard rock guitars, identitarian centric attitudes, fantastical storytelling, shallow artificiality, and formulaic assembly. Truly a shining moment. I want to focus on what arguably was the biggest component. Rock.
Trends occur in a zeitgeist, but rarely come forth out of an immaculate conception. There are background roots, often going back as far as one is interested in teasing the thread. Bro was no different. Although typically bro country is viewed as starting somewhere around the 2010 release of Jason Aldean‘s My Kind Of Party and Florida Georgia Line's Cruise in 2012, you can easily go back further to identify the roots. It would be more fair to say that the ingredients for bro were simmering under the surface and emerged fully formed by 2010-12.
For the roots, we look back to projects like Justin Moore's 2009 debut which was chock full of the blaring guitars and identity forward presentation that was the hallmark of bro. Brooks and Dunn's Hillbilly Deluxe from a few years earlier also could have qualified. A common moment pointed to is Big & Rich's 2004 Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. It's a tongue in cheek infusion of hip-hop motifs amongst the rock forward take on the country format that eerily paralleled the Tupac and T-Pain, Haggard and Hank stylings of bro. Some even go back much further and pin the blame on Hank Williams Jr. who had southern rock aplenty and his own identity centric presentation within his popular take on country.
This was not unexpected. The decline of rock as a commercial genre didn’t mean an audience for rock music was no longer. As is often the case, the south and rural audiences, typically associated with the far end of the cultural cutting edge, still had a commercially viable fondness for rock music.
Additionally and crucially, an exodus of rock executives towards country occurred in the late 90s and early 00s. This was understandable for a few reasons. Country's openness to rock sounds, the extreme commercial success during the 90s- a Garth Brooks compilation album went 10x platinum, rock wasn't touching those numbers- the continued success with the radio format, and the implosion of mainstream rock as a radio and money making format all led to a world where rock executives fled to the last remaining area where a white man with a guitar could experience success.
This fertile ground was plowed and sown by the new generation of rock raised country executives leading to the 2000's gradual rock-ization of country. The changes occurred quickly. Taking a look at artists like Keith Urban or Toby Keith, we see gradual advancement of rock in their music throughout the 1990s and 2000s until their music was nearly indistinguishable from rootsier mid- 90s rock from the likes of Matchbox 20 and Hootie and the Blowfish. Even stalwarts like Brooks & Dunn kept cranking those guitars up further and further as the decade continued.
This continued until nearing the end of the decade the rock influence was no longer the subdued tones of classic rock and rockabilly- like seen in the 80s/90s iterations of country rock- but instead the hard rock and hair metal of the 80s. Mix in a little hip hop to keep up to date with the youth and there ya go. That's bro country.
There is one last piece to the puzzle. Whenever a trend occurs, a related secondary trend emerges. A "1b" to the dominant trends "1a". Bro country was the primary trend of an era of rock first country. But, because of the fertile atmosphere, other threads of country rock developed and flourished.
A primary influence on bro was 1980s hair metal. Motley Crue for example. The related and secondary trend was also ripped from the 80s (only surprising if the aforementioned underlying trends of fandom, commercial musical evolution and executive exodus are ignored). This was a thoughtful, roots oriented, but still firmly rock sound that pulled more from John Mellencamp and Bob Seger than it did Bon Jovi and Poison.
An artist like Eric Church flourished because his music was accepted in this rock focused era. An artist like Kip Moore was lauded for his Springsteen-like qualities. Focused songwriting and less artificial production choices made for a mature alternative that also tapped into the zeitgeist. The dual popularity of the fantastical, artificial, hair metal inspired bro country, and the down to earth, heartland inspired, roots rock was the one-two punch of the 2010s mainstream. At the nexus between these two poles lies Frankie Ballard.
Frankie Ballard got his break winning Kenny Chesney’s Next Big Star competition in 2008. He didn’t have the typical country background expected of an up and coming Nashville product. He is from Michigan.
Aside from being a cool trivia fact, this actually is useful in understanding Ballard’s artistic image. Michigan in the 1980s was not a honky tonk hot bed of Merle Haggard and George Jones. Bob Seger and heartland rock ‘n’ roll ruled the roost. Growing up in this environment prepared Ballard excellently to break into the rock infused atmosphere of early 2010s country music.
As the system insists, Ballard put in some time in writing rooms, penning a few songs here and there for artists like Billy Currington and David Nail.
In 2010 a debut single was released. It peaked in the mid thirties on radio. Successful enough that an EP followed. Nothing sticks out especially much from that short project. Some personality shines through as well as a taste of a rock forward energy. In theory, this EP was intended to set expectations for a further project soon to come. It ended up taking a couple of years and a shift in label imprint for the project to manifest. Sunshine & Whiskey, the most crowd tested, bro country audience approved title imaginable hit in April 2014.
As was discussed in the previous post about Connor Smith, the label has a large degree of control over what the sound of a debut is going to be.
Frankie Ballard was no exception. With the understanding of the 2010s we now have, the intentions of the Warner brass becomes clear. Frankie Ballard was to be shaped into a bro country artist. Party lyrics, drum loops, big rock guitars, and simple banjo. Seemingly this should have nixed this album from being worth reflecting on. Bro country was entrenched by 2014. Simply aping the formula wouldn’t bring anything noteworthy to the table.
And yet, somehow, here I am dedicating thousands of words and many hours to reflect on this exact project. What occurred here that makes Sunshine & Whiskey stand out?
Frankie Ballard himself was about thirty one years old when his album dropped. The slight age and maturity advantage over younger "new" acts led to moments of seriousness getting peppered throughout the record. Although most of the songs play into youthful abandon, aiming for the youthful audiences, there are subtle tweaks and moments that elevate.
Let's run through a few songs as a demonstration. Young & Crazy is a standard “reminiscing about the fun times and recklessness of youth” song. However, the twist on that basic trope occurs through the framing of the reminiscence occurring when the narrator is still a wild youth.
Frankie acknowledges that he will grow up and he even is looking forward to retirement! Unlike most youthful romps, the future isn't ignored for the sake of the moment. Instead a broader perspective on the various phases of life is represented.
Similarly, Tip Jar is a straightforward summer romance song occurring alongside a hard-working musician story. That is a simple enough trope and wholly depends on execution. Thankfully, that is an area where Ballard excels.
He sells the authentic hard working musician angle- understandable for a guy who lived that life- and correctly emotes feelings of inevitability that the emotional linchpin of the song hangs on. From the first moment they met, he knew it was over. The acceptance came before all. It's a nuanced way of telling the story and the thin, but craggy vocal performance tells all.
Speaking of Ballard's voice, it reminds me of Morgan Wallen's voice in his best moments. The rasp is eminently capable at portraying a gruff masculine emotion. However, Ballard also has a deft softness in his tone. Consonants trail off the end of words as if something is left unsaid. Perhaps it's the plainspoken Midwestern conversation style that I find refreshing. Even the bolder vocal moments don't descend into crude snarls or overly emphasized staccato. Admittedly, this is no vocal powerhouse. Ballard can get thin in his upper register and gets nasal at times. However, enough controlled modulation and a strong sense of pitch allows even somewhat technical parts to be executed without loss of clarity in both words spoken and emotions conveyed. There's a believability and charismatic presentation that comes to the forefront in all but one song. (That's the one where he brags about how country he is. Perhaps Battle Creek, Michigan is somewhat rural, but was Frankie Ballard really dreaming of cane poles, creeks, Smokey and the Bandit and Luckenbach, Texas as a kid? The performance seems mailed in. Maybe that's projection. Dunno.)
This veteran presence comes to the forefront in a song like Sober Me Up.
The power ballad presentation of this classic "baby come back to me" story bares all and shows a genuine recognition of just how far the narrator's personal life has destabilized. If he was ten years younger, selling a big life changing acknowledgement of how things spun out of control would be hard. Forget about also showing sufficient resolve to convince the audience that this is the ticket to success. Without a sense of time and accumulated life experience, it would ring hollow. The payoff works because the setup hits.
The same holds true on It Don't Take Much, a compelling story about the intertwined fragility youth and potential. Helluva Life yet again takes a twist on the bro country basics and adds just enough detail and thoughtfulness to elevate.
Not that there are no moments of reckless and feckless abandon on the record. At its best, bro country produced highly energetic music. If the 2014 party scene brings back good memories, then the self proclaimed shallow party anthem Drinky Drink is that feeling distilled and personified. Wailing guitar and blasting harmonica powers you through a song devoted purely to only the finest of hedonistic excess.
Now even though the label clearly had creative control over many aspects of the project, Ballard’s touch and finesse can be found in the small touches of the record. That's where the small tweaks to the bro country formula come from. One notable exception exists. That's the heartland country/country rock tearjerker closing track, Don't Tell Mama I Was Drinking. The partying stops and Frankie becomes a sympathetic and reflective narrator. It's a powerful song that stops you in your tracks and makes you assess your life. Would your Mama be happy with the decisions you've made?
As a song, it sticks out from the rest of the record, but it provides a glimpse into what Frankie Ballard may have wanted to do all along.
I’m not here to convince you that this is somehow the greatest record that ever came out. However, a fair argument could be made that it is the greatest album bro country ever produced. Unlike the heartland rock inspired albums of Eric Church during this period, this album was unabashedly bro. It understood exactly what bro brought to the table and why it had appeal.
Bro had energy. Bro had an attitude. It had a youthful understanding of the world which led to some fantastically joyous moments. This same understanding also led to the fatal flaws of the subgenre- formulaic assembly, overly hedonistic and fantastical storytelling. Everything has pluses and minuses. Every artist who enmeshed himself into bro engaged with these pluses and minuses and attempted to provide their distinct blend on the formula.
Frankie Ballard had the party friendly energy and the youthful attitude. He took the label pushed formulas with their prescribed devil may care mentality of bro country and elevated it. He didn’t ignore the tropes and trends in favor of other sounds and styles. Instead, he kept the positive side and did just enough to ameliorate the downsides. A little more organic energy to break up the artificiality of the classic bro arrangement. An occasional tonal shift and interesting writing perspective to diversify the thoughts and stories told by bro. The heartland background gave just enough substance to fill in the gaps and allow him to plow the same ground as Luke Bryan and Florida Georgia Line, while producing more substantial crops. Unlike the Eric Church’s or Kip Moore’s, this wasn’t accomplished by throwing out the entire playbook, simply via mastery of the same scheme everyone was using.
The success was short-lived. Firstly, as the product of a back and forth between artist and zeitgeist, continuity was inherently impossible. The ground was changing underfoot and aiming for the same balance in 2016-17 would have resulted in a dated product.
Secondly, as an artist experiences success, he/she gets more a say in the follow up material. Frankie Ballard's heart wasn't in nuanced bro country. His background was in heartland rock. We saw glimpses of that artist try and push through the cracks on Sunshine & Whiskey. The follow up album, El Rio, demonstrated that fully. The new album pushed grit over twang and de-emphasized the glitz in favor of starker John Mellencamp circa Scarecrow energy. Covering Bob Seger, recording the project in Texas instead of Nashville, and generally pushing heavily to the heartland rock side of the country tent meant that the follow up album, in spite of its many strengths, was an entirely different animal than Sunshine & Whiskey.
Radio was pushing in a pop direction by that point. Blake Shelton was about to release Texoma Shore. Dan and Shay started popping off on the radio. Florida Georgia Line went full pop collabs and Sam Hunt was the face of country. A rock shift, even one that was authentic, was misaligned with the moment. The singles off El Rio sputtered. Sales were heavily weakened relative to Sunshine & Whiskey. The label seemingly lost interest in backing any further music. That was it for Frankie Ballard.
He’s bounced around ever since. He still tours, doing small events all over. In the interim period since 2017, he's seemingly found himself. He got married, found Jesus, had a child, and seems to be quite content with the life he's carved out. From being Young & Crazy in 2014, he seems to be leaning towards the old and wise side these days. Living out his life as predicted in song.
During Covid he appeared on one of Drake White’s live streamed barn concerts. He seemed happy. Talked about fatherhood, and some gospel music he had recorded. Maybe we will get some music out of that. Maybe not. He's happy. We should also be.
Even if we do get some more music out of Mr. Ballard, it won't be what was. There was a shining moment in April of 2014 that the stars were aligned. The artist, the music and the moment all fit perfectly into their slots in the puzzle. Ten years later, we enjoy and reflect on that time.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed,
Joe
If you have feedback, please leave a comment down below or reach out via email to today I heard blog at Gmail. Com
For a great read focusing on the technical side of Ballard's slide into semi-obscurity, the now retired Kyle from Kyle's Korner Blog did a fantastic job digging up and fleshing out the story. Check it out here.
https://kyleskornerblog.wordpress.com/2021/11/05/a-helluva-disappearing-act-what-happened-to-frankie-ballard/