This stark, unwavering honesty continues throughout the album, where change is a constant theme, and not always welcomed. Reflecting on the plight of farmers, the backbone and lifeblood of a nation and the failing of the American dream, lines like “This land fed a nation / This land made me so proud / Son, I’m just sorry there’s no legacy for you now” hits you in the gut. Musically, it’s foreboding, murky bass and guitar lay the bed and the drums pound like impending doom making its way to your door. An album where he decided to bet on being the artist he wanted to be, not the one the label would try to cultivate.įrom the opening narrative of generational famers sold out to corporate greed and seasonal change in “Rain On The Scarecrow,” there was a gritty, earthy realism to Mellencamp’s writing. He was an artist in transition from Cougar to Mellencamp and Scarecrow was the album through which he truly came into his own. As a singer-songwriter, he felt caught between who radio wanted him to be-the “Hurts So Good” bad boy of rock that were a dime a dozen during the ‘80s and the more evolved artist of “Jack and Diane” or “Pink Houses,” someone with something important to say. Now I knew of Mellencamp with his rousing Top 40 rockers like “Hurts So Good” and the poignant “Jack and Diane”-the former I didn’t particularly care for, the latter I loved, so it was likely going to be make or break with Scarecrow.
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