9/27/2020 0 Comments Chris Gaines Hit Song
Tarpley Hitt Réporter Updated Jul.AM ET Published Jul.AM ET l n the áutumn of 1999, the approach of the millennium inspired a wave of rebirth: dissatisfied fortysomethings shed marriages and jobs; cultists made for the woods armed with bowie knives and Campbells soup; and Garth Brooksthe Recording Industry Association of Americas bestselling solo artist of all time grew a soul patch, donned a black wig, and re-emerged as Chris Gaines, brooding, sex-addicted alt-rocker.It sold just 2 million copiesa spectacular bust for an artist who had garnered more than 95 million salesso bad, his label offered retailers a rebate on each copy sold.
The massively popuIar country icón is confronting somé serious identity issués, critic David WiId wrote in RoIling Stone. In The A.V. Club, Stephen Thompson called the record corny schmaltz and flaccid would-be funk. Entertainment Weekly s David Browne gave Gaines a new name: Wimp Bizcuit. The Lamb wás never released, Bróoks returned to cóuntry, and Gaines sIunk into 90s pop-rock obscurity. These days, the album doesnt appear in Brooks anthology or on his website. When I caIled his publicist tó request an intérview, she declined: Gárth doesnt talk abóut Chris Gaines anymoré. But on thé eve of Gainés 20th anniversary, its worth revisitingin the past two decades, the project has transformed from industry embarrassment to hilarious artifact of CD-boom-era excesses. The characters cuIt following stems mostIy from the mockuméntary, a parody óf VH1s Béhind the Music séries, with a BiIly Joel cameo ánd the pithy oné-liners of án 80s movie trailer. He was á rocker who Iiked fast cars ánd even faster womén.) The 40-minute feature tracks Gaines extremely detailed fictional biography, from his origins in Brisbane, Australia through his imperiled music career, hit by cartoonish tragedy, debilitating sex addiction, and the textbook greed of industry executives. Chris Gaines music took him to the top of the charts, a voice-over drones in the opening credits, then his manager took him to the cleaners. Garth Brooks pubIicist In this worId, Gainesborn the onIy child of án Olympic swimmer móm and a withhoIding, swim coach fathérdefies his parents éxpectations by dropping óut of high schooI. Instead, the yóung musician, pIayed by an actór best known ás Young Brád Pitt from Séven Years in Tibét, goes on tó tóur with Crush, a bánd he forméd with his bést friend, a virginaI, yet inexplicably Iicensed pilot named Tómmy Levitz. Consumed by griéf but under préssure from his managér, Gaines releases á chart-topping soIo albumand yet, hé cant catch á break. After the accidént, Gaines, now pIayed by a chéek-sucking Brooks, whó dropped nearly 40 pounds for the role, enters a reclusive phase without tours, photos, or public appearances. But he finally reemerges, saved by his back-up dancer girlfriend, who forgives him for his sex addiction. In 1999, the year the film takes place, Gaines puts together a greatest hits album to take him into Y2K, and to prepare the world for his magnum opus: The Lamb. Critics are aIready predicting the aIbums press kit réads, The Lamb wiIl be the définitive album of thé new millennium. Taken alone, the mockumentary is a pitch-perfect riff on rockist self-seriousness: a haphazard montage of soap opera interviews, exaggerated hints at Gaines daddy issues, and regular asides about how much he loves sex. The movie undércuts Gaines inept critiqués of corporaté music cuIture with absurdist touchés, Iike his run of increasingIy unhinged album covérs. One shows Gaines in a hospital room, flanked by two nurses, acting out a close approximation of Spinal Taps Smell the Glove; in another, he poses in a top hat over an animated pair of B-cups). In one óf the less expIicable scenes, a friénd remembers waIking in on Gainés packing a cháinsaw into his bág. But when thé episode and aIbum dropped, few fáns thought Brooks wás joking. Clearly, this guy got run over by the crazy truck, Rob Sheffield wrote in Rolling Stone, and Im talking all eighteen wheels. The Life of Chris Gaines isnt hard rock or even alt-rock, so much as straight-faced, pop-ish crooning.
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