The Zac Brown Band has a new single out, and it’s an awesome exercise in crapping out the kind of populist pablum that Nashville should be ashamed of. Not that Brown deserves all the credit here–the song was co-written by Wyatt Durrette and James Otto, a MuzikMafia purveyor of some egregious “country-soul” who always manages to make true love sound like the many-splendored plot of a Kay Jewelers commercial.

(Lyrics in bold, comments in not bold)

You know my old car needs washing
Yes, I do know. I know because I also have an old car that occasionally needs to be washed. Oh Zac, it’s like we were separated at birth!
And the front yard needs a trim
I hope this isn’t a euphemism for some sort of manscaping.
And the telephone keeps ringing
And the bossman knows I know it’s him
Even the hardest-working blue collar superstar musician knows being lazy is a great way to lose your job.
And the bills ain’t gonna pay themselves
No matter anyway
No, they’re not. So why do it, right? Maybe they will just pay themselves! Oh, right.
‘Cause I ain’t in no hurry today
I’m OK with the double negative. But let’s think about the premise here. Just because you aren’t feeling particularly “zesty” this morning, you’re willing to forgo employment, lose your house to foreclosure and get your water turned off ( I will assume you own your car outright. It is old, after all). This isn’t easy like Sunday morning, and it sure isn’t fighting the power–it’s just a profoundly irresponsible laziness.

There’s nothing wrong with an old cane fishing pole
And the smell of early spring
There sure isn’t! By the way, I only came to that conclusion after insisting for years that there was indeed something wrong with both cane poles and the smell of early spring. I’m a changed man.
Sit down in a fold-up easy chair
I’m not sure there is such a thing as a “fold-up easy chair,” but I’ll allow that an easy chair is whatever you want it to be. It would be far more hilarious to imagine Zac dragging an actual Lay-Z-Boy to the riverside, and it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he just has one stationed there for fishing purposes. This guy loves sitting.
On a quiet shady river bank
Other places Zac’s ass has been in song: the sand, a lawn chair.
Worries he’s had in song: is the tide gonna reach my chair?
Zac knows the truth best elucidated by Montgomery Burns: “From the mightiest Pharaoh to the lowliest peasant, who doesn’t enjoy a good sit?”
Let the world go on without me
Wouldn’t have it any other way
Did this song just go from “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” to suicide note? I think it might be a turn for the better.
Cause I ain’t in no hurry today
Did you know that Zac Brown attended prep school, graduated from college and is a classically-trained guitar player? Man, that double negative is so real.

Ain’t in no hurry
I’d Be a fool now to worry
About all those things I can’t change
Well, maybe you should worry a little. Especially since all the things you’ve mentioned so far are things you can most certainly change.
And the time that I borrow
Can wait till tomorrow
I’m sure this makes sense to Stephen Hawking. Perhaps Zac subscribes to the idea of time travel via wormhole?
Cause I ain’t in no hurry today
Perhaps he also can’t get no satisfaction.

I have to mention the fiddle solo here. I commend the band on attempting such aggressive modulation in a country song. But it might be the single worst instrumental break I’ve ever heard. It’s like Motley Crue (I don’t know how to do accents in WordPress) is playing behind a 5th grade violin recital. The power of the crash cymbal completely undermines the message of the song, and it’s like the rest of the band is mocking the fiddler as he struggles to remember the notes to “Kashmir.”

When I must return
To the cold cold ground
Have ‘em take their time
When they lay this sinner down
OK, it’s definitely a suicide note. Of a man who wants to be buried…very…very…
Very…
Very…
Sloooooowly.
Take that, bossman!

Heaven knows that I ain’t perfect
Wait. Just how perfect aren’t you?
I’ve raised a little Cain
OK, so just barely not perfect. Which is what people usually mean when they say they’re not perfect–that they’re actually pretty much perfect. But here’s my opinion: Zac Brown and James Otto and Wyatt Durrette should burn in eternal hellfire for using the hackneyed phrase “raised a little Cain” in a country song. His punishment should be an eternity of standing on a bridge as it burns. That’s another insufferable country cliche, people.
And I plan to raise a whole lot more
Before I hear those angels sing
In your face, God!
Gonna get right with the lord
But there’ll be hell to pay
It seems that our writer has stumbled into cliche quicksand and can’t get out! This is an epic run! Also, assuming Zac’s future acts of Cain include some truly unforgivable breeches of God’s law, he is either willing to excessively self-flagellate, or he believes in an afterlife where Satan accepts the dirty money of pop entertainers. My guess is that neither side will want him. Can you imagine the burnt-hair stench this guy will generate in Pandemonium?
But I ain’t in no hurry
He truly isn’t not.

Ain’t in no hurry
Be a fool now to worry
About all those things I can’t change
He has pity for the fool who worries about things.
And the time that I borrow
Can wait till tomorrow
Tomorrow is gonna be sweet! There will be bills to pay, a new job search to tackle, yard work and…ha! Joke’s on you! I won’t be alive! Remember “Weekend at Bernie’s?” It’ll be like that, at best.
Remember Joe Diffie’s hit “Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox (If I Die)?” That was so much better than this song.
Cause I ain’t in no hurry
Ain’t in no hurry
Ain’t in no hurry today
In summary, Zac Brown lives a tragically hectic life. He really should take a break.