Like a bad single, a truly awful one takes time and overplay to fully reveal its flaws. It’s not about hating songs, but about critically listening. Let’s be honest, some songs get a free pass, while others, even from artists we admire, deserve a closer, perhaps more critical, look. This isn’t about tearing down jukebox heroes for the sake of it, but rather understanding why some John Cougar Mellencamp Songs resonate more deeply than others.
John Cougar Mellencamp’s “Small Town,” which peaked at #6 in December 1985, is a song that for many years felt like a Springsteen track. It’s an easy mistake to make, especially during the mid-80s, when heartland rock was dominating the airwaves. That era, roughly 1985-1986, was the height of Bossmania and a certain kind of patriotic, Reagan-era aesthetic in popular music. While Springsteen, despite misinterpretations, wasn’t a conservative artist, his music became associated with a particular vision of America.
“Small Town,” riding the wave of these trends, became a hit, but it stands out as one of the more simplistic entries in Mellencamp’s otherwise impressive run of singles from 1980’s “Ain’t Even Done with the Night” to 1994’s “Wild Nights.” The musicality is undeniable; Kenny Aronoff’s distinctive drumming and Larry Crane’s guitar riff provide a solid foundation. However, Mellencamp’s vocal delivery feels almost forced, reverting to a tougher persona reminiscent of his Johnny Cougar days, as if he’s still trying to prove himself. The lyrics are repetitive and lack depth: he was born in a small town, he’ll die in a small town, his friends and family are from a small town. It’s a statement of fact without exploration of meaning or emotion. There’s no context, no irony, and little sincerity beyond the surface level declaration. Does he feel trapped? Nostalgic? Proud? The song offers no answers, making it feel more like a platitude than a genuine reflection.
“Small Town” comes across as a simplistic anthem, almost tailor-made for a political campaign rather than a nuanced piece of songwriting. Ironically, it could have served as the Reagan commercial that “Born in the U.S.A.” was mistakenly interpreted to be. Even Mellencamp’s follow-up single, “R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A.,” while not universally loved, at least gestures towards the rich musical heritage that informed artists and was seemingly absent from the insularity of the “Small Town” narrative. Artists like Frankie Lyman, Bobby Fuller, and Mitch Ryder, who Mellencamp name-checks in “R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A.,” represent a broader musical landscape that “Small Town” seems to ignore in favor of provincialism.
It’s unfortunate, because the album Scarecrow, from which “Small Town” originates, is arguably Mellencamp’s strongest work as a mature artist. It’s a tough, lean album, with lyrics as direct and uncompromising as its arrangements. While some criticized Mellencamp’s inclusion of his grandmother’s voice on the album, it’s the kind of bold artistic choice one expects from an artist in his imperial phase, confident enough to dictate his own terms. Scarecrow possesses the depth and complexity that American Fool, from his Johnny Cougar era, lacked. While American Fool achieved greater initial commercial success, Scarecrow represents a more significant artistic achievement, even if it “only” gave Mellencamp a year-long reign on radio and MTV in late 1985. Even lesser-known singles from Scarecrow, such as “Rumbleseat” and “Minutes to Memories,” are strong tracks, and “Rain on the Scarecrow” stands out as one of his most powerful singles. Unlike bands like The Blasters, to whom Mellencamp generously contributed, he managed to push “Rain on the Scarecrow,” a far more challenging and less radio-friendly song than “Small Town,” into the Top 30 in the summer of 1986.
Mellencamp continued to evolve. 1987’s The Lonesome Jubilee, often considered a career highlight by many (though perhaps not universally), incorporated Lisa Germano’s fiddle, adding a bittersweet dimension to the sound, even if the album itself is arguably less consistently compelling than Scarecrow. Despite a somewhat misguided single complaining about pop stardom – a complaint coming from someone who was undeniably a pop star – Mellencamp maintained a consistent level of quality and continued to produce hits well into the 1990s, including the unexpected top twenty success of “Key West Intermezzo (I Saw You First)” in 1996. Even later in his career, Mellencamp embraced commercial opportunities, licensing “Our Country” to Chevrolet for Silverado commercials, a move that, in a way, aligns with the themes of small-town life and American identity explored in many of his songs.
In conclusion, while “Small Town” remains one of John Cougar Mellencamp’s most recognizable songs, a deeper dive into his discography reveals a wealth of material that surpasses it in terms of songwriting complexity, emotional depth, and musical innovation. Exploring albums like Scarecrow and singles like “Rain on the Scarecrow” offers a more complete and rewarding picture of John Cougar Mellencamp’s artistry beyond the simplistic charm of “Small Town.”
