A song that maybe didn’t inspire us as much as it was intended to…
[Video][Website]
[5.17]
Jessica Doyle: If I’m not supposed to read this in a political context, well, Mason Dixon (no, really!), you started it by putting a black man in front of a headstone reading “Brown” and then later embracing a police officer. So: a mostly-white congregation before a black pastor in a well-kept church (Methodist, it turns out) while the lifted hands and Reba’s plea to “scream His name / ‘Cause we’re still worth saving” both speak more to modern-day evangelism than traditional Protestant worship as usually portrayed, either the sin-and-damnation Cotton Mather kind or the folksy small-time apple-pie Thomas Kinkade/Jan Karon kind. (There do not appear to be many black Methodists.) The video thus comes off as aspirationally color-blind, more a portrayal of what Dixon thinks Christian practice should be than an acknowledgment of how racism has shaped worship in the American South (and vice versa). McEntire, for her part, has spoken of the video representing her desire to find strength in the group, in the common love of Christ, but her vocals are warmer and more grounded than the mishmash of the video. Take all this with a grain of salt — my on-and-off search for a shul as rewarding as Dixon’s fictional church, reachable in Friday evening Atlanta traffic, hasn’t yielded much so far — but I prefer McEntire’s performance to the video’s hand-waving, and, though it’s toward a different purpose, Erica Campbell to both.
[5]
Thomas Inskeep: Reba’s always been a superb singer, with a big, malleable, warm voice. She does some of the best singing I’ve heard from her in a while on Sing It Now: Songs of Faith & Hope, her double album of Christian songs (half trad hymns, half newly-written). “Back to God,” co-written by Randy Houser (“How Country Feels”), is given an appropriately soaring production by Jay DeMarcus of Rascal Flatts, but as opposed to, say, Hillary Scott’s gospel move last year, which was very rootsy/bluegrass-y, this is straightahead contemporary country. This sounds comfortable and worn-in, and totally Reba. If you’re inclined towards faith-slash-Christianity, you’ll likely find a message to believe in here; if you’re not, just revel in the warmth of the sound and her singing. Either way, there’s a lot to like on this one.
[9]
Alfred Soto: By letting her band faff around in the last third she had a right to retitle this plaint “Back to Guitarist,” and I’m not crazy about the vocal filters. Accusing Reba of being a cornball is like accusing Donald Trump of being uncouth — both beside the point and is the point. It matters only insofar as her scripts are themselves cornball. Here, the hokum isn’t three-dimensional enough.
[4]
Katie Gill: Here’s your one chance Fancy, you let me down. 🙁
[3]
Will Adams: My faith has waned over the years, but I still feel it in waves, coming and going when necessary — say, I don’t know, right now, since it’s Easter weekend and the world is on the verge of exploding. What I like about “Back to God” is that it aims for the universal, which allows for that similar take-what-you-want attitude. Because of this, it doesn’t say much, but it says enough for me.
[6]
Edward Okulicz: Reba’s got such gravitas and wisdom in her voice that I feel guilty for finding this advocacy for the power of intercessory prayer to be unconvincing and dripping with cliches. But man, just read those lyrics in isolation from the legend selling them. I like my calls to spiritual betterness to come with an earthy practicality — the empty grandness of this makes me appreciate the gentle appeal to better (figurative) angels of Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind” so much more — there’s just nothing for me here.
[4]