'Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going'

For when the vibe is rangy, masculine, and gothic.

'Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going' -- The Vibe Triangulation

Recently, rap and country have been used as totems on opposite ends of the identity politics spectrum. But the two genres have always enjoyed more of a closeness than mainstream discourse would suggest and have seen swells and shifts that have mirrored each other throughout the years. The genres of hip-hop and outlaw country have an especially broad overlap. Both sounds emerged around the same time. Both were reactionary movements against the more popular and polished music of the era (disco and Nashville sound). Both were efforts to assert creative control in an era which was politically charged. Both claim blues as a significant influence. Both openly explore topics that were and are taboo in the mainstream -- drugs, violence, and prison. Both are defined by grittiness and rebellion. In short, hip-hop and outlaw country represent an honest America, one that’s hard and cold in which only the strong survive. They look at what it takes to be a survivor, and the toll that surviving can take.

This is why songs like Drink Don’t Need No Mix and Steal Her From Me can fit together comfortably as parts of the same cohesive work when you’d typically expect the former on a hip-hop station and the latter on a country album. This complex work from Shaboozey feels like a man with nothing to lose setting off into the sunset with no plans to come back. It’s a tight twelve tracks, which I love, and covers three subjects oft-explored in the hip-hop/outlaw country genres: partying, self-reliance, and, naturally, women.

The ethos of the party is simple. We are here for a good time not for a long time. The songs in this bucket, A Bar Song (Tipsy) and Drink Don’t Need No Mix, are fun. They glamorize the life, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. They hook you and draw you in, and then warn against it. There’s a reason why only two songs fit comfortably into this category.

Then there are women. They are central Shaboozey’s narrative as antagonists (Anabelle), excuses (Vegas), and mistakes (Highway). Probably the most compelling song in this vein is My Fault, the duet with Noah Cyrus that serves as a heartrending depiction of a relationship torn apart by substance abuse and an intimate look inside what she did and what he did to make things go awry.

The deepest well in this album is self-reliance. Shaboozey explores the traditionalist American sensibilities of dealing with the harsh realities of the world as they are, remaining unbroken in the face hardship, taking ownership of choices, whether they be good or bad, and standing strong against it all. Horses & Hellcats blends the sounds of Shaboozey’s two genres; the whole thing might be written by Johnny Cash, but the bridge is entirely hip-hop. It’s defiant, accepting, and clear-eyed just like Let It Burn. The two songs act as a counterpoint to one another, on the one hand expressing commitment to the life whatever may come and on the other showcasing a vulnerability that exposes strength as a veneer. Together they are an exploration of choices and forks in the road. In Horses & Hellcats he says, “And there’s no way out of this life that we chose, Everyone knows where it goes,” and in Let It Burn he thinks about what a way out would look like with, “Grab the matches, start a fire, Throw the memories in the flames, it's behind us, See the gold in the red, new horizons.”

Last Of My Kind and Finally Over serve as another counterpoint exploring what it means to live a life apart. Last Of My Kind romanticizes the ruggedness of it all with lyrics like:

“Ain't many that are built like me

I'm the last of my kind

Grew up on a back road baby

I know how to survive”

While Finally Over lays bare how lonely and difficult that path is, how it forces you to run from and confront yourself and your choices in equal measure:

“Something in the distance

And as it gets closer

Oh my heart beats faster

The air grows colder

All my pasts have come to meet me

And I'm facing off again”

The truest gem of the whole thing is East Of The Massanutten. This song is an American gothic masterpiece. If I may be so bold, it is to the African American experience as The Godfather is to the Italian American experience. It creates a through line between African Americans in the Civil War (a common subject in the country genre cast here in uncommon light) and Shaboozey’s journey as a man:

"Tell me why I'm still running now?

For freedom I guess

To my forty acres

Running full speed ahead

Out west to the desert

Where the sun shines forever"

The key here is that Shaboozey doesn't linger on the metaphor and instead uses it as a springboard into what comes next. That is a very American perspective; we can acknowledge the past, but not at the expense of the future. The song then turns into an expression of American expansionism and the continuous push westward, toward something better, toward a new frontier:

"It's about time for a blessing

I won't settle for less

'Cause I know that out there's

A land full of dreams

With milk, gold and honey

Just waiting for me"

This is the true message inside of the song: there may be nothing east of the Massanutten, but there's a whole lot west of the Massanutten. America is a promised land for those who accept responsibility for their freedom.

At once painfully nostalgic and also strikingly hopeful, this song is, underneath all the booze and fun and women and romantic ideations of the hard-scrabble American dream, the clear crystal heart of the album.

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