Luke Combs begins The Way I Am, his sixth studio album, growling about how he’s been “gone for a little too long,” how he’s been “waitin’ on a drummer to kick off a comeback song.” The framing suggests that the country singer has been out of commission for a little while, but that notion isn’t quite right.
It’s true that Combs’ last album—Fathers & Sons, released on Father’s Day weekend 2024—was his first that didn’t generate a hit and, in turn, that didn’t get certified platinum. That could be called a slump if Fathers & Sons wasn’t deliberately positioned as something of a side adventure for Combs, a way for him to reflect on his role as a new father. It was a lovely, understated record made without country radio in mind—which is not something that could be said about The Way I Am.
No score yet, be the first to add.
Big and bright, balanced between ballads and sports-bar anthems, The Way I Am plays like an hour of prime contemporary country radio: It hits the expected marks crisply and efficiently, sometimes even memorably. Combs doesn’t even bother to feign a surprise. There are songs about whiskey, Saturday night, and Daytona; tunes about cowboys, loneliness, and everlasting love. These are hand-me-down stories, delivered in a familiar fashion, distinguished by an expert sense of craft.
Combs is once again working with Chip Matthews and Jonathan Singleton, the team of co-producers and occasional co-writers that fell into place on the singer’s second record, What You See Is What You Get. The trio favor a clean, uncluttered sound that’s reminiscent of ’90s country without being designed as a throwback. Combs has a honeyed rasp that commands attention, particularly since he chooses to keep his power in reserve. He’s a storyteller who knows when to not telegraph a twist. When “15 Minutes” reveals that the titular phrase refers to the amount of time a prisoner receives for a call while serving a life sentence, Combs delivers the denouement without irony or melodrama. It’s an old-fashioned weeper delivered with respect for the genre.
“15 Minutes” could’ve been on any hardcore country record released in the second half of the 20th century, an indication of how Combs is conscious of the music’s lineage. There are signs of tradition lurking elsewhere on the record. Alison Krauss harmonizes on “Ever Mine,” a bittersweet neo-bluegrass tune co-written by Combs, Hailey Whitters, and Charlie Wosham. It has a cousin in “Days Like These,” a burnished, weathered ballad, co-written with Brent Cobb and Aaron Raitiere. These slow, quiet numbers accentuate Combs’ savvy country-pop, proving he isn’t merely a revivalist pining for yesteryear.
The Way I Am is decidedly modern in its affect, dressing its sturdy songs in subtly stylish contemporary fashions. “Be By You” simmers to a slinky R&B rhythm, “Can’t Tell Me I’m Wrong” rides a cool ’80s country-pop breeze, while “Rethink Some Things” is its nocturnal flip side. Some of the experiments are consciously underplayed. “Tell ’Em About Tonight” buries a Byrdsian chime underneath its rockin’ country veneer, while “Sleepless in a Hotel Room” glimmers with electronic accents that gently steer the slow-burner towards the verge of pop.
