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CD Reviews: Review of My Kind Of Music by Ray Scott
 
Red Rocker Home / CD Reviews Home / Entertainment Channel / Bullz-Eye Home


Click here to buy yourself a copy from Amazon.com   Ray Scott: My Kind Of Music (Warner Brothers Nashville 2005)

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Reared on a rural farm in North Carolina, Ray Scott spent his youth soaking up his daddy’s music and his adolescent years pining for a Nashville career of his own. Far from an overnight success, Scott toiled over compositions written for others, endured various relocations throughout the southeastern U.S., and eventually hooked up with Buddy Cannon, who had already produced masterpieces for Kenny Chesney. At last, the ram-rodding, big attitude grit of “Plowboy” got heads to turn at Warner Brothers Nashville, and landed Scott a record deal.

With Dierks Bentley’s boyish good looks and Toby Keith’s resounding baritone pipes, Scott’s debut, My Kind of Music, is a welcome left field surprise. Here are 14 original tracks (“A superstitious man would never make a record with 13 tracks on it,” tells Scott at album’s end) that don’t try to reinvent country music as much as revitalize it. “Yeah, I’m a plowboy, I ain’t no city boy, I was born with dirty hands,” he declares on “Plowboy”, an authentic account of the blue collar, everyman movement that fits Scott to a tee. Influences like Kris Kristofferson and Merle Haggard come shining through on bona fide hillbilly anthems like “Dirty Shirt” and the single “My Kind of Music.” “Then I asked her if she’d heard of Alan Jackson, and she said ‘Didn’t he sing that song called ‘Where Were You?’ / I said ‘Yeah, but girl that man’s a living legend.’ She said, ‘Really, I thought he was new?’” is one of several jovial pokes at those who don’t see eye to eye with the current country music faction.

Tender ballads find their place on My Kind of Music, and they do so without stripping the overall project of its grungy edge and saloon-like appeal. “I Didn’t Come Here to Talk” and “Fly with an Angel” drench plainspoken poetry with swooning steel guitar that screams, “It’s an all-skate!” As much as anything new being spun out of Nashville today, Ray Scott’s debut stands a good chance of lasting. If a career can still be forged by one album alone, then My Kind of Music is that kind of venture. Scott no longer should be looking up to Willie, Waylon, Alan, and Toby, but instead should start thinking about standing among them.


 ~Red Rocker 

redrocker@bullz-eye.com








 

 

 

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