Toby Keith's Hope Is Beer-Fueled Paradise

Toby Keith deserves some country boy friendly applause for "Hope On The Rocks" the latest link in his sixteen album body of work which reinforces the widely held notion in country circles that a little beer with just the right head of foam makes the toughest of hoed roads easier to manage. Where Mr. Keith thrives is when paying homage to the kingdom of Shiner Bock, Budweiser and, since I happen to be a Texas resident I can't overlook this, Lone Star. On "I Like Girls That Drink Beer" he endorses a preference for women who aren't so caught up in their la-di-dah social standing, mansions and related opulence, that they can't hoist a col'one. The simple pleasure wins out over the silver spoon. The charm is in his unabashed honesty. You'll discover more of a randy homage to the perfectly curved woman in "The Size I Wear". John can have his pick of any woman he wants so long as it's not Toby's ideal heavenly sent creation. The drums jack up the machismo quotient a good bit. You know the two gents aren't coming to blows because they have this primeval understanding of territorial rights. Out of all 10 tracks this one's the most clearly realized instance of Toby out for a good time and the good women that such leisure implies. Women and beer...two thirds of the country music holy trinity and he hammers home the right snapshots. As if those weren't enough of a portrait of what Keith craves try on "Cold Beer Country". The loose jointed horn. The high kicking Full Monty for the roadhouse set attitude. Keith's a road warrior you want to bring out of the rain and appease because beer satisfies him so completely. Not that he's a one trick pony. "You Ain't Alone" is teeth chattering not because you'll be scared to sleep without a light on but because the echoed hauntings of what life's dished out to this point, coupled with a dizzying hyper shift of minor chords divert one's attention to the ever rotating kaleidoscope of circumstances we face in one flavor or another. Telltale signs of a homeowner who's spent more than a few twilights seeking out inner calm. The man is in one corner of the world. The women is equally restless in another. Try not to own portions of his bottled up intensity after a few listens. It bears reaffirming that the Toby Keith people went bat shit crazy for due to "Red Solo Cup" is the same relatable joe, quite possibly multiplied by one stein's worth of sip service. "Hope On The Rocks" goes down agreeably, bubbles and all.