âWhen It Rains It Pours,â one of Luke Combsâs first hits, portrays the opposite of a family man. The country star watches as his âbitchinâ and moaninââ girlfriend walks out, later pockets a waitressâs number at Hooters, and celebrates never having to see his âex-future mother-in-lawâ again. On that single and the rest of his debut album, 2017âs This Oneâs for You, Combs quickly developed a reputation for loud, spirited songs about drowning your troubles in a cold beer and having a good time. But a few years later, he was shunning that image for a more grown-up Combs: a wiser, calmer man who knows when heâs had one too many.
That fit with the changes happening in his personal life. Outside of becoming one of country musicâs biggest stars, Combs got engaged to his longtime girlfriend (who played the Hooters waitress in the âWhen It Rainsâ video) in 2018, married her in 2020, and then had two sons 14 months apart. For his third album, 2022âs Growinâ Up, Combs now found himself caught between the hard partying of his 20s (âAny Given Friday Nightâ) and the heavier responsibilities of his 30s (âTomorrow Meâ). He was a dedicated lover on âThe Kind of Love We Makeâ and gave advice about lost love on âGoing, Going, Gone.â By the albumâs 2023 counterpart, Gettinâ Old, Combs was replacing the expected drinking songs with ones like âJoe,â a rare ballad about sobriety in contemporary country music, and opener âGrowinâ Up and Gettinâ Oldâ sounded like a new mission statement: âThese days I hang my hat on what I wonât do / And Iâve been findinâ peace of mind slowinâ my roll.â Even his rambunctious story of young love on âHannah Ford Roadâ was told in past tense.
By pursuing this path, Combs has avoided the embarrassing fate of country artists like Tyler Hubbard, who struggle to keep making a style of party music theyâve long outgrown. But on his latest album, Fathers & Sons, Combs swings so far into maturity and fatherhood that he forgets what made his music fun in the first place. Motifs about superheroes and sports quickly get worn out. âIn Case I Ainât Aroundâ is one of many songs that falls into clichĂŠ, with Combs offering his children advice like âMake sure yâall all still eat together / At your mamaâs after church on Sunday.â One of the albumâs most compelling moments, on âFront Door Famous,â comes as Combs shifts his perspective from son to father mid-song, but when he deploys that trick again on âAll I Ever Do Is Leaveâ and âMy Old Man Was Right,â it feels predictable and unmoving. He even tries cutting songs by other famous Nashville dads, like Luke Bryan and Rhett Akins, but their contributions sound hackneyed, full of the usual tropes about a good country life.
Where are the full-throttle thrills Combs used to deliver? They still came through in flashes on Growinâ Up and Gettinâ Old, like in the hair-raising bridge of âWhere the Wild Things Areâ or the rousing passion of âDoinâ This.â Those personal stories are still far from party songs â but whoâs to say the grown-up Combs canât keep making a few of those either? Even George Strait, one of the genreâs all-time great storytellers, could cut loose as he was nearing 60 on his winking, self-aware hit âHere for a Good Time.â
But Combsâs pivot hasnât hurt him on the charts. Shortly before Growinâ Up, he had one of the biggest hits of his career in âForever After All,â a tender love song that broke country streaming records and debuted at No. 2 on the all-genre Hot 100. So he built on that achievement by only releasing ballads as singles from Growinâ Up. All three continued his success on country radio and in the top 40; âThe Kind of Love We Makeâ even peaked at No. 8 on the Hot 100.
Incidentally, the approach also helped Combs differentiate himself from the genreâs only bigger crossover star, Morgan Wallen. A few years ago, both were known for their youthful bar songs. But by last summer, they had competing visions of country music jostling on the charts: Wallenâs âLast Nightâ was a snap-track apology for the previous nightâs drunken mistakes, and Combsâs cover of Tracy Chapmanâs âFast Carâ was a reverent take on his first favorite song â a story of a struggling couple searching for an escape. While Wallen has continued keeping bro country alive this decade, leading a movement of artists like Hardy, Ernest, and now even Post Malone, critics derided his style, and his party-boy image is becoming a liability. Intentionally or not, Combs can now dodge those associations by fashioning himself into the figurehead âcountry gentlemanâ â artists taking after the sentimentalists of the â80s and â90s in making songs more fit for weddings and funerals than nights out. Itâs an easy role for someone used to playing the everyman, and a viable one too, with singers like Cody Johnson and Jordan Davis rising behind Combs.
With that chart success and distinction from Wallen, Combs has little incentive to change â but that doesnât mean he needs to restrict himself artistically like he does on Fathers & Sons. Now that heâs shown heâs grown up, his next challenge is bridging the wiser, more mature Combs with the vibrant performer his fans still love. He did it before on his 2019 album What You See Is What You Get, which featured some of his liveliest anthems alongside a few more thoughtful moments. One of those was âEven Though Iâm Leaving,â a song about fatherhood that Combs wrote years before he even had his first son. If he could make that song then, surely he can still have a bit of fun now.