In 2013, Tom Petty stood on stage at New York’s Beacon Theater and, just before launching into a cover of the Conway Twitty chestnut “The Image of Me”, lamented the demise of the type of country music he grew up with, calling modern country, “Bad rock with a fiddle”. Petty’s swipe was made right around the time the “bro-country” craze was starting to take hold, when Florida Georgia Line gave us the ubiquitous “Cruise”, and Blake Shelton offered up “Boys’ Round Here” (with the immortal refrain “Chew tobacca, chew tobbaca, chew tobbaca, spit!”).
Now, 11 years later and seven since Petty’s untimely death, we’re treated to the redundantly named Petty Country: A Country Music Celebration of Tom Petty. Regardless of Petty’s view on modern country, it’s evident that his catalog has cast an immeasurable shadow on the format. Growing up, today’s country artists more likely listened to Petty than George Jones or Loretta Lynn, as over the last 20 years or so, references to Petty or his songs pop up in country hits from Keith Anderson’s “Pickin’ Wildflowers” to Frankie Ballard’s “Sunshine & Whiskey”.
Naturally, country artists’ tastes for the last couple of generations have skewed more toward classic rock than country. Garth Brooks modeled his live shows after KISS while showering the country charts with James Taylor-esque arrangements and Billy Joel covers; Shania Twain‘s hits were produced by AC/DC and Def Leppard mastermind Mutt Lange. Country stars honoring rock artists is nothing new, either. Over 30 years ago, we were treated to Common Thread: The Songs of the Eagles. (They apparently decided against Eagles Country: A Country Music Celebration of the Eagles.) Over the years, the tributes have run the gamut from the obvious (the Beatles and the Rolling Stones) to the ridiculous (Mötley Crüe – “Bad rock with fiddles”, indeed). Petty Country celebrates an artist with more genuine ties to the country genre than probably some who are in it nowadays, so it makes perfect sense why it exists. It’s just the lack of imagination over much of it that’s the issue.
Walk down Broadway in Nashville on a random evening, and you’ll hear a plethora of classic rock cover bands, many of them tackling Tom Petty. And that’s what a lot of Petty Country sounds like. You’ll hear Luke Combs running through “Runnin’ Down a Dream”, reliably and without a misstep, the band chugging behind him like a sturdy cover band working for that tip jar. Midland give their best attempt at rocking out on “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” – a song so oft-covered that its opening riff is as recognizable as “Sweet Home Alabama” – but it’s so unnecessary.
Midland should have taken a cue from Chris Stapleton, who’s been a rock singer wearing country clothes all along. Stapleton handles “I Should’ve Known It”, from Petty’s fantastic Mojo album, just as well as you’d expect. Meanwhile, Ryan Hurd and Carly Pearce deliver “Breakdown” like that cute engaged couple at the karaoke bar who are egged on by their friends to get up on stage and “show ’em how it’s done.” Also, in the minus column, the less said about the Cadillac Three and BRELAND (obnoxious all-caps stylization apparently on purpose) and their horrendous boy-band version of “Free Fallin'”, the better.
Broadway bar bands and karaoke aside, there are moments of inspiration sprinkled throughout Petty Country, including Dolly Parton‘s majestic reading of “Southern Accents”. A song that usually works best when sung from the point of view of someone who’s moved away from the region, Parton pulls it off easily because she’s Dolly Parton.
A most welcome surprise is Jamey Johnson‘s understated yet powerful take of “I Forgive It All”, one of Petty’s most moving songs that also acted as one of his final recordings, released on the second Mudcrutch album in 2016. Another standout finds Margo Price boldly handling “Ways to Be Wicked”. Ir won’t make you forget Lone Justice’s version, but enlisting Mike Campbell to handle guitar and backing vocals is a perfect touch.
Elsewhere, Wynonna delivers a positively electric performance on “Refugee”, so much so that the ubiquitous Lainey Wilson’s presence just isn’t needed. Willie and Lukas Nelson’s “Angel Dream (No. 2)” is as well-worn and moving as expected; Steve Earle is the perfect vehicle for “Yer So Bad”; Lady A gives a solid performance of “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” that surprisingly rivals the drama of the original; and “Here Comes My Girl” is delivered by Justin Moore with such undeniable charisma, it breathes fresh air into the song’s thrill of young love.
Undoubtedly, however, the best moment on Petty Country is when Rhiannon Giddens takes ownership of “Don’t Come Around Here No More”. She wrestles it away from Dave Stewart and brings it back down south with just enough otherworldly dissonance to enthrall and captivate. It’s a stunner, but it’s no surprise, considering the source. It leaves one wishing that most of the rest of the 20 songs on Petty Country were attacked with such adventurous abandon.