Well, at least two of our writers turned around their chairs for you, Blake…

[Video]
[4.17]

Alfred Soto: “Blake’s Country,” judging from the fake humility.
[1]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: A clever title given the song’s subtext flips the definition of “country.” Shelton is a 21st century pharisee here, and the vague spirituality that defines this is meant as a warning to all of the genre’s heretics. Naturally, the reason this song can function successfully as a song about Real Country Music is because it follows the same tactics that are utilized to keep Real Christians so sure of their received convictions: Shelton looks to history, religion, and tradition to detail a future that needs saving. He explains that “the Devil went down to Georgia/but he didn’t stick around,” and if Shelton’s having any say in this culture war, the same fate awaits the country devil incarnate: Florida Georgia Line. But really, saying “This is God’s Country” (especially after saying “it ain’t my ground”) encapsulates the full breadth of why so many people support legislation like the heartbeat bills. It’s yet to be seen if this will soundtrack any pro-life rallies, but really, the existence and success of this song already shows that its logic is already ingrained in countless Americans’ minds.
[8]

Katie Gill: I’m faced with writing a review of a song that attempts to talk about a specific place via rural imagery (one church town, dogs running in the wild) and country-western imagery (The Charlie Daniels Band, mentioning “Dixie”) but is so generic that there is a Shelton-sponsored website with a “God’s Country” image generator where you can say that literally any city, no matter the location or population, is God’s Country. I don’t care if “God’s Country” is a state of mind or whatever mealy-mouth nonsense Shelton wants to use to try and sell this song north of the Mason-Dixon line, he mentioned “Dixie!” You don’t mention “Dixie” unless you’re trying to appeal to a certain demographic. Anyway, my review is just to link this Bo Burnham bit that I know I’ve already linked for at least two other country songs of this ilk but it’s not MY fault they keep setting themselves up like this.
[2]

Katherine St Asaph: Tolling church bells, seething guitars, cackling voices, twang cranked up to 11 — all the elements of post-“Old Town Road” country camp. But instead of going the full “Mea Culpa” melodrama, “God’s Country” shoves everything but the twang to the back of the mix, leaving up front the same old Southern rock. The conceit could’ve been a play on words, i.e., “God is country,” which might actually be funny — but again, instead the lyric’s the same old mythologizing BS. As you may have heard, there’s some big news ongoing with Georgia’s abortion laws, and even if you don’t think “this is God’s country” is a big-ass dog whistle, the issue is such that both sides would find it compelling evidence that maybe the devil stuck around. Or if he didn’t, it’s because the uncredited female background vocalist belted him right back into hell; but she’s also shoved to the back of the mix, so you probably didn’t notice.
[5]

Taylor Alatorre: Upon closer examination of the lyrics, there doesn’t seem to be anything inherently reactionary about “God’s Country,” though I can’t shake the feeling that at least someone involved in its production wanted people like me to think there was. I’m not even totally opposed to reactionary thought in music if it’s done in an interesting way — where are all the synthpunk songs based on Italian futurist principles or the concept albums inspired by Spengler’s Decline of the West? Far from a full-throated declaration of cultural allegiances, “God’s Country” is a damp squib of a psuedo-anthem that paints over its noncommittal core with a mix of bluster and overcompensation. I believe Blake Shelton has real pride in his small town Oklahoma roots; why does he sing like he’s faking it?
[1]

Jonathan Bradley: Country is having a Christian moment, and as a Southern music, its Christian moments are often best when there’s a bit of hell in there too — like Patterson Hood told us, Satan is a Southerner. But why would this song of community and salvation growl with such darkness and drag with such sick, hot menace? “God’s country” is a phrase that denotes awe — think of the expansive beauty in the similarly named U2 song — but Blake Shelton’s track turns it literally territorial: he is marking out the boundaries of a land and of the people who belong on it. It’s hard not to suppose, then, that he might also be marking out the people who do not belong. Sometimes country music’s esteem for tradition can leave you wondering what happens to the people who don’t fit into it, but Shelton leaves less room to wonder. God’s country sounds like a place you don’t want to be caught in after sun down.
[3]

Stephen Eisermann: The moodiness and dark aesthetic of this song are really sexy, as is Blake’s rough vocal, it’s just that there’s this burning question in my mind: can someone remind me of which native tribe “God” belonged to? 
[4]

Isabel Cole: The church-bells melodrama comes across so dramatic and stark that I listened probably harder than I should have for a hint of some irony or complication that would make the idea of describing an implicitly white American setting as “God’s country” in the year 2019 less than totally repulsive. And I’m open to someone more familiar with genre or artist telling me there’s something I’m missing, but really all I hear is a song about how much reality TV star Blake Shelton loves farmers and manifest destiny.
[3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I come from a tradition that has not, for much of its history, had a country to lend to God, so the sheer physicality of Shelton’s worship music is appealing as a novelty. That’s much more in the music than the lyrics — the metal-leaning production job and Shelton’s bombastic vocal performance complete their goals with more clarity than the lyrics, which feel more like an empty listing of signifiers and metaphors than a sermon proper.
[5]

Iris Xie: “God’s Country” is composed very strictly to accompany an unrelenting montage of images in its lyrics. The brusqueness of this approach honestly reminds me of when Phil Collins wrote his adult contemporary songs for Tarzan, and its overall determination to wring every possible emotion out of the images. The crunchy slaps and grunting guitars impart a type of stressful dominance which makes me wonder about Shelton’s relationship to God and why it is so cortisol-spiking, but I guess if striking fear and awe is the goal of the song, it’s not too bad.
[5]

Alex Clifton: I like a song that fills me with the fear of God, and Blake Shelton comes very close to that here. “God’s Country” is a foot-stomping revival song, but I wish he’d gone a bit further with it. The issue is that he sounds too polished when I want the grit and more devils, but I’m relieved this isn’t a “God bless the USA!!!!!” song like I worried it might be.
[5]

Ramzi Awn: Blake adds some spice to what could have been a dull song and surprisingly, “God’s Country” more than makes its mark. Thanks to a rollicking vision and all the right bells and whistles, the track succeeds in conjuring up the danger Blake warns against and leaves you wanting a shot of whiskey.
[8]