Thursday, July 13th, 2017

Midland – Drinkin’ Problem

Are you one of those people that expects applause when you say you’re drunk? Let us know in the comments!


Alfred Soto: The vices and guitar have a relaxed, gnarled authority as much removed from Luke Bryan and Dierks Bentley as a single malt scotch is from Dewar’s. George Strait is often boring but he’s got authority, I remind myself.

Thomas Inskeep: Marvelous vintage-sounding country, and by “vintage” in this case I mean mid-to-late ’80s: think Ricky Van Shelton or George Strait. This is commercial country right down the middle, only 30 years late, and that’s a fine thing.

Ryo Miyauchi: Midland sounds a bit too proud of their self-deprecation for me to feel they truly need saving. They’re self-aware of routine, but sameness here is still a nice ambient fixture that gives them temporary structure. One day it’ll crumble. Once they get there, I hope they can make a better song looking at the bottom of their glass.

Ashley John: “Drinkin’ Problem” is just so damn easy to like. If I had to convince someone in the “everything but country” camp, I might consider sharing this song. Plainly traditional and undeniably well-crafted, Midland pulls together dreamy harmonies and Jimmy Buffet-like bridges with stereotypical but clever country lyrics. “Drinkin’ Problem” is engineered to be perfectly satisfying, and it’ll do just great being the bridge between “bro-country” and whatever the hell is coming next. 

Will Adams: The blithe tone doesn’t sit well with me; sure, it’s as much a coping mechanism as it is a defense one, but the cheeky grin and sweet lilt make too much light of an issue that a savvier song could have nailed.

Edward Okulicz: The entirety of this song’s chorus lyrics could be split up into catchphrases to adorn a line of t-shirts worn by people who expect you to applaud when they say they’re drunk. But the tone, the voices, the melody, they’re all so rich and creamy that my first Google after listening to the song was “alcoholic drinks that taste like butter.”

Anthony Easton: The wry lope of this is somewhere between Jackson and Strait, perfectly calibrated towards a stone faced heart break. Everything about how they sing, has this tension between refusing to acknowledge the problem, and stating the problem directly…the narrative snaking through a bed of steel guitars and picked guitar. Masterfully constructed, and heart breaking, a convincing essay on the history of country music and a worthwhile intro the lovesick/drinking song genre. 

Reader average: [7.5] (6 votes)

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