Time to bust out the eye demister…

[Video][Website]
[5.44]

Matt Cibula: I thought I was over Brooks & Dunn and this whole genre of music. The song started, and proved me right… but then that chorus exploded with all those luscious clichéd rhymes and I was like DAMN I WANT A FEW WINE COOLERS AND A JET-SKI.
[7]

Alfred Soto: The first nostalgic reverie in ages that sounds true, B&D’s song knows how to glance off boring tropes like illicit sex, last touchdowns, and dirty hotel rooms because it’s clear they didn’t think these things were all that interesting then either. With the singing more embittered than yearning, the guitar licks gnarly instead of celebratory, this pins down memories that don’t get sweeter as the singers age.
[8]

Andrew Unterberger: Is it supposed to be a big twist ending in the last verse when it turns out the singer was singing about himself the entire time? I mean, no offense to your storytelling credentials Brooks and/or Dunn, but I had kinda pieced that together myself. Wicked guitar tone though.
[5]

Ian Mathers: Look, I’ve read and liked and agreed with Carl Wilson’s Let’s Talk About Love, so I know full well the reason I can’t stand this schmaltz might be because I’m afraid of my own emotions. But there’s plenty of schmaltz I like just fine – in this case I think the problem may not be with me, but with the hackneyed story, nearly-nonexistent characters and complete lack of nuance.
[3]

Chuck Eddy: Makes me think of Friday Night Lights (the excellent third season of which I recently finished Netflixing), mainly by suggesting final touchdowns change lives — as does moving to California from Kansas and having an hot fling. The ridiculous “The wonder/The hunger/And the sound of distant thunder” parts have the ring of a less meaningful version of ’80s Seger or ’90s Garth (or maybe even P.E.’s “The number/another summer/sound of the funky drummer.”) And the idea of a song called “Indian Summer” being released as a single in June rather than late September (which to B&D’s credit is when the plot takes place) makes me think somebody at Arista Nashville is either stupid or thinks the audience is. But especially underscored by that melancholy Wings-like sparkle flitting through, Ronnie’s phrasing feels like the setting sun.
[8]

Martin Skidmore: I like the regret in Ronnie Dunn’s voice, and there is occasionally some nice country instrumentation, but too much of this is overweight country rock, marching along stiffly, with some nasty lead rawk guitar in parts, and this doesn’t at all fit the otherwise wistful song.
[4]

Anthony Easton: As much as I love chart country, I have never been able to get behind Brooks and/or Dunn: too much drama for too little effect, though the sentimental narratives of pilgrimage, abandoning the values and geography of the midwest ever so slightly complicate the obligatory nostalgia for sexuality lost. I wonder about men and country — did they only ever fuck from the ages of 16 to 21, and did they only ever end up fucking women who did not end up being their wives? This, plus half a dozen Chesney tunes, 3 or 4 Tim McGraw tunes, a couple of Brad Paisley songs, and work by Blake Shelton, Toby Keith, Joe Nichols, etc., etc. are all about this trope, and it seems to be significant, and I have never quite been sure what it means…
[5]

Anthony Miccio: At first I thought this was a pro footballer’s lament that he let his high school sex partner get away, but now I’m guessing that “last touchdown” was a baby they aborted. But if he’s a local, why would they use a motel? And if he’s not, why would he be playing in Kansas? And why can’t he contact her? It’s hard to tell just what’s going on with Brooks emoting about the scenery instead of the specifics of the story. Hopefully the video will add some gory details to all the “hunger” and “thunder,” because that’s all this needs to be a solid soap of a ballad.
[6]

Additional Scores

Doug Robertson: [3]