It's an unusual one for me, as it’s not related to my writing at all. Instead, I just wanted to heap praise on an album that tears my heart out every time I listen to it, and yet it is so life-affirming for me at this stage in my life.
That album is Luke Combs’ “Fathers & Sons”.
And it’s the best collection of songs I’ve heard in a very long time.
I don’t know if it’s my age, but this album, and five of the twelve songs on it in particular, speak to me on a very personal level. I’ll explain why later in this post.
As a Brit, and a fifty-one-year-old Brit who is very wedded to the music of my youth in the 80s, 90s and 00s at that, I hadn’t heard of Luke until earlier this year when I read on the BBC website that Tracy Chapman had won a Country Music Award for “Fast Car”, not for her version but for a cover by someone else.
Now, I happen to think that “Fast Car” is one of the best songs ever written, so I was, as a grumpy old git, scandalised that someone could win an award for covering it. I mean, how could a cover be better than the original? Then I read some more about it and the reason for Luke Combs covering it, and my heart softened towards the idea.
So, I looked up the song on Spotify.
And DAMN, it’s good.
It is not as good as the original, but it is really good. It sounds contemporary while paying utmost respect to the original.
I really liked it.
So I listened to some more of Luke’s songs—which is how I discovered “Where the Wild Things Are”- a hell of a song.
I mean, that’s really good.
Now, you do know how Spotify and its algorithm works, right? Given how much I had listened to “Fast Car” and “Where the Wild Things Are” in the first half of the year, it was no surprise when this new album was recommended to me when it was released in the summer.
The real power of music lies in its ability to capture the essence of our most profound experiences, offering solace and understanding in moments of great emotional intensity. So when I listened to “Fathers & Sons” for the first time, I was on the verge of tears pretty much throughout.
This summer, my son was sitting his A Levels and looking forward to winning a place at University far from home in the autumn. It’s also a period when my father is battling a condition that’s seen him look much older all of a sudden and reminded him and me of his mortality.
And here’s an album which is solely about a middle-aged man singing about his relationships with his son and his father. And it tore me to pieces.
I’ve been struggling for a long time to put into words how I feel about my son as he becomes an adult, about how proud I already am of him and everything he’s achieved and how much I’m going to miss him when he goes off to University. And then here’s an album that does it for me. It’s remarkable.
With its raw, heartfelt lyrics and soul-stirring melodies, “Fathers & Sons” taps right into the complex emotions of love, loss, pride, and nostalgia that I’ve been battling with this year. Each and every track resonates, echoing both the bittersweet pride of watching a child step into adulthood and the fear that I will, inevitably, lose the man who raised me.
It’s as if this album was written for me, as it so closely reflects my own thoughts, fears, and emotions. All twelve tracks on the album speak to me, but there are five that hit particularly hard, and I’d like to highlight them. In the order they appear on the album, they are
“Huntin’ by Yourself” – I’ve never been hunting with my son because we don’t hunt in the UK, but this song is really about the experience of sharing something between father and son and realising you have to treasure it as it’s happening because soon enough, it will stop. For me, that was taking my son to play football.
The song is about the mistakes the son makes—he moves too much and talks too loud. But it doesn’t matter because going hunting together isn’t about hunting; it’s about spending time together, just father and son.
And I know exactly how important that is. So much so that I’m still trying to find things we can do together whenever I can.
“Whoever You Turn Out to Be” – There’s not much to say about this. It’s a father telling his son that no matter what he does with his life, even if it’s as far removed from what the father does, the love between a father and son is unconditional. It just is. I defy any father to listen to this song and not go, “Yep”.
“Remember Him That Way” – I just… I can just paraphrase the chorus, and you’ll understand where I’m coming from with this, right?
“I remember him ten feet tall and bulletproof, throwing me a ball in cowboy boots, wrench in one hand and beer the other; god couldn’t make a man any tougher, but that “S” on his chest is starting to fade…. But I’ll always remember him that way.”
What a song.
“The Man He Sees in Me”
It’s a song about how a little boy adores his father. About how a little boy thinks his father is a superhero. But sung from the father’s point of view, knowing that he really isn’t the man his son thinks he is but maybe, just maybe, one day, he might be.
In a lot of ways, this is a counterpoint to the track that precedes is. Both are about that very special pedestal that a son places his father on, told from the point of view of both the son and the father.
The song ends with the father hoping that when he grows up, his son strives to be the man he thinks his father is.
Fuck me, it’s a great song.
“Take Me Out to the Ballgame”
You know how sometimes the first time you hear a song, you think, how? How did he write that? How did he capture the emotion so well? “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” is about a son whose parents are separated, and he only gets to see his father every other weekend. It’s about the little boy’s confusion with the situation, about how he blames himself and how he just wishes he dad would “Take me out to the ballgame, pick me up at the house…”
The boy just wants to spend more time with his dad. This song hits on both levels. My parents were not divorced, but I do wish I’d been able to spend even more time with him than I did, and at the same time, I worry that I didn’t spend enough time with my son. It’s a really, really good song.
Listening to “Fathers & Sons” alone is an almost cathartic experience. It provides a safe space to feel and express those emotions that a man so often suppresses. It reminds you that you are not alone and that others have gone through all this before, and still others will go through it after you.
Hell, it reminds you that your father probably went through it, and your son probably will, too. It’s about that unique connection and bond that fathers and sons have with their fathers and sons.
It’s profound. It’s poignant. It’s heartbreaking, but it offers hope and strength. Luke’s lyrics are evocative on so many levels, and his vocal delivery of every line is perfect. He’s a storyteller, telling you your own story, but at the same time, it’s every father and every son’s story.
“Fathers and Sons” is more than just an album. It’s a companion on the journey through some of the most difficult moments in a man’s life. Moments filled with love and pride and grief and loss. Moments experienced by many and shared with no one. This album reminds us that we all go through them. These moments are shared, even if we don’t share them. And they are also deeply human.
In 2024, if someone asks you what it means to be “a man”, tell them to listen to “Fathers & sons” because it’s all right there in each and every song.
