Album Review – Parker McCollum (Self-Titled)


Texas Country (#550.3) and Americana (#570) on the Country DDS.

It’s never been easy to pigeon-hole Parker McCollum, or summarize his music career or sound in a concise sentence. He’s a Texas artist with mainstream impact. He’s an independent-minded performer with strong commercial potential. Clearly he aspires to achieve big radio singles and swell his crowds at concerts. But then he regularly cites singer/songwriters like Chris Knight and John Prine as influences. There is an underlying, principled approach to his career. But it’s mixed with a pragmatic, business-savvy sense of his music as a franchise.

Parker’s new self-titled album doesn’t make assessments or summations of his career any easier. If anything, they confound them, though that’s probably part of the point. After working with producer Jon Randall on the last two records that put Parker solidly in the Top 10 of mainstream country males, he chose to go with veteran Frank Liddell on the new one, and record it in New York City in a tight window. This was after scraping the project halfway through under different circumstances.

McCollum has said that at times during the recording he wondered if he was committing career suicide. Instead of simply talking about how he wanted to make Chris Knight songs for mainstream audiences, he did so by covering Knight’s “Enough Rope” off of Knight’s 2006 album. Parker also covers the well-known country classic “Good Time Charlie’s Got The Blues” written by Danny O’Keefe, even if it doesn’t sound especially like classic country here.

The sound of this self-titled album is really what’s most quizzical at the start. McCollum and Frank Liddell are not the first, and probably won’t be he last to attempt to make an Americana record for the mainstream country market that might misunderstand Americana’s grit for general inferiority. The musical signals are a little too muted, distressed, mono mixed, and “dirty” on this album. The solos feel purposely sloppy and uninspired. It sounds like good musicians trying to perform subpar because that’s what “Americana” is. It’s “gritty.”

At times, you hear instruments, but they’re so buried in the mix, you can’t feel them. This is especially evident in the guitar solo for the song “Killin’ Me,” and the little out-of-tune and out-of-time discordant tones that apparently are supposed to impart some sort of organic authenticity at the start of the song “New York Is On Fire.” Instead, they just feel like a distraction. This album lacks presence and clarity overall from a basic sound engineering standpoint.


Parker McCollum’s sound has never been especially country. But with all the talk of wanting to step further into his roots, you expected maybe a little more steel guitar, maybe a fiddle or two, or at least any instrumentation that was remarkable, or could offer a distinct sound. The song “Solid Country Gold” doesn’t sound anything like that, including the quizzical little strings outtro.

That’s not to say the album doesn’t also have its strong points, or that McCollum shouldn’t get credit for attempting to do something a little more offbeat for major label audiences. The opening song “My Blue” feels like Parker McCollum taking those Chris Knight influences, and finally synthesizing them into a song of his own. Plenty of people die in the track, just like a Chris Knight saga. “Watch Me Bleed” feels almost like the roots version of an Oasis song. It showcases a strong chorus, which McCollum has a knack for composing.

Parker shows his chorus skills off again in the album’s big radio single “What Kinda Man.” When you get to the song at the 11th slot of the 14-song album, you say, “Okay, here’s an actual Parker McCollum song,” even if it’s the more mainstream version of him as opposed to the Texas one, and the production on the track still suffers from that muted and muddy sound that besets the entire self-titled album.

When you try to play both sides of the independent/mainstream divide, you run the risk of not appealing to either. On this self-titled album, McCollum still has a few songs that will do well in the mainstream market, which is all you really need since this will constitute a run of radio singles and keep the machine churning along just fine. But nothing about this record is going to necessarily appeal to the fans of Sturgill Simpson and Charles Wesley Godwin who weren’t already McCollum fans in the first place.

But Parker McCollum says he didn’t make this album to appeal to one side of anything or another, but to be the most honest expression of himself. It’s the album he wanted to make. We can only take him at his word, and the album does sound better with subsequent listens. Some of the sound issues become less concerning, and some of the writing shows its strength, even if the tracks on the album still feel a bit hit or miss, just like the career of Parker McCollum to many.

This self-titled album probably is the accurate representation of Park McCollum. It rests in the middle of the Nashville/Texas, mainstream/independent divide. You just wish the sound represented these songs a little better.

6.8/10

– – – – – – – –


© 2025 Saving Country Music