Review Summary: 25 years on, country's greatest trio still has plenty of gas left in the tank.
Rascal Flatts is one of this century's definitive country acts, for better or worse. They emerged at the turn of the millennium and immediately became a force at radio. In just a handful of years, they were among the best-selling acts across all genres. Of course, not everyone saw their appeal. They were sometimes unfavorably compared to the pop boy bands of the day, and their likewise pop-centric brand of country music was definitely an acquired taste to many of those who thought Wrangler jeans and cowboy hats were somehow prerequisites for being allowed to call yourself 'country.' Nevertheless, they persisted, and by the time their second decade together drew to a close, they had built an enviable career that yielded sixteen number one radio hits, upwards of thirty million units moved, a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and induction into the Grand Ole Opry. Love 'em or hate 'em, they'd earned a victory lap when they decided to call it quits in 2020, surprising as the move was at the time. When COVID-19 derailed their intended farewell tour, instead of simply waiting out the storm, they unceremoniously fell apart behind closed doors. Guitarist Joe Don Rooney was arrested for DUI in 2021, and quietly sobered up amidst a contentious divorce with his ex-wife, while lead singer Gary LeVox and bassist Jay DeMarcus pursued other musical ventures, rarely if ever acknowledging the existence of their former compatriots. Rascal Flatts would spend the better part of four years broken up, with many fans feeling their story was not yet complete.
Finally, in October 2024, the trio announced a reunion, headlined by a brief run across the US to celebrate their 25th anniversary. Upon their reformation, DeMarcus emphasized that the shows would be a celebration of their catalog, and that they had no plans to record new music. That latter statement was only half true, as the group would soon announce
Life is a Highway: Refueled Duets, a collection of reimagined Flatts favorites, featuring a star-studded lineup of A-list collaborators. Turns out, this project had been shelved for years, and I personally remember the group teasing it on social media in early 2020. Presumably, the band simply declined to release it, as they also declined to initially resume touring after COVID died down. With the group now back in action, I imagine they deemed it high time to finally put this batch of new(ish) material out into the world.
It's tough to gauge exactly how old these recordings are. Of course, they can't be any older than half a decade, but it definitely is a factor in the listening experience; it's hard to imagine all of the artists in the same studio bouncing off each other if it's possible that they tracked vocals in different places, years apart. Thankfully, there is
some brand-spankin'-new material present, counter to DeMarcus' previous claim that they weren't returning to the studio. Enter the Jonas Brothers, and the lone original offering here, "I Dare You." Co-written by Nick Jonas, this breezy country pop romp fits right in the Flatts wheelhouse, making love sound easy as so many of their biggest hits have. "I dare you to love somebody like me," LeVox and company challenge the listener. LeVox sounds great singing alongside Nick and Joe Jonas, while Rooney and DeMarcus' backing vocals and ad-libs are an excellent complement. It also wouldn't be a Rascal Flatts song without a good pop-rock flavor, and Rooney's ever-brilliant guitar fills help make this one a welcome addition to the group's canon.
For DeMarcus and Rooney's part, sadly, "I Dare You" is really the only chance you see Rascal Flatts shine as a proper trio. For the remainder of
Refueled's runtime, they mostly cede the floor to their guest vocalists, allowing them to sing lead and imprint their own identity and vision on the affair. This works for some tracks, like the closing new spin on "I'm Movin' On" with Kelly Clarkson. Lifted from the band's self-titled 2000 debut, the original is one of the Flatts' finest moments on record, and Clarkson elevates this new dealing to one that actually manages to rival that classic recording. Clarkson turns in a stirring and heartfelt vocal performance, as only this beautiful lyric deserves. There are, however, moments where LeVox should have been left to carry things, such as Jason Aldean's take on "Fast Cars and Freedom." Aldean's fiberglass voice doesn't do much for me in the first place, but the real sin is his frustratingly uncanny ability to make the voices he's singing with sound almost as vacant as his. See his 2012 track "The Only Way I Know" with Luke Bryan and Eric Church for more on what I mean. I don't know how the f*ck you can possibly make an otherworldly vocalist like LeVox sound listless and indistinct, but somehow Aldean pulls that off.
Oscillating back to some highlights, the legendary Backstreet Boys lend a hand to a new swing on the Flatts' acclaimed 2006 hit "What Hurts the Most." This one is by far the track I'm most excited about. It's f*cking awesome to see my two favorite vocal groups together. Nick Carter and Brian Littrell (surprisingly, given his documented vocal issues) are probably the strongest performers from the Backstreet camp, their capable pop talents serving the beat-heavy composition well. AJ McLean and LeVox also bounce off each other nicely. If I had to say who turns in the weakest lines, I'd give that to Howie Dorough, whose snippy and seemingly autotuned vocals conjure reminders of Cascada's 2008 electropop cover of this very same song. Rooney retools his fiery guitar solo a bit from the original, and his backing vocals are also quite welcome, as they really don't appear elsewhere on the album.
One thing that does sort of puzzle me is the song choices the band made. While most of the tracks they chose to remake were #1 hits originally, some of them scan as a bit inessential. "Summer Nights" with Ashley Cooke comes to mind. The 2009 original is fun, but it's been compared to a
High School Musical song. What's
really baffling is the absence of "Bless the Broken Road," one of the band's biggest hits and one of their signature songs. How do you
not add that to the tracklist? If I had to pick a 'lesser' Flatts song to be represented, I might have chosen an album cut that became a live staple like "Here's to You" or "He Ain't the Leavin' Kind." In the same regard, the Flatts' 2017 hit "Yours If You Want It" gets by far the quickest turnaround for a re-do, and Jordan Davis doesn't really make it his own. This one, perhaps more so than any other cut here, tries admirably but ultimately fails to build on its counterpart's original strengths. By comparison, Carly Pearce adds some warmth and humanity to the new take on "My Wish." Coupled with a creative inversion of the original composition, understated production and a solid vocal turn from LeVox, this one does manage to get its fingertips around the magic of its predecessor. "Stand" with Brandon Lake and "Mayberry" with Blake Shelton also boast of decent reworkings. Through the album's stronger and weaker moments, a prevailing point of praise has to go to the attempt by the group to genuinely re-engineer things from under the hood, instead of simply retracing the older compositions.
Though "I'm Movin' On" is the last song on the tracklist, I had to save the title track for last. "Life Is a Highway," specifically the band's 2006 rendition of Tom Cochrane's 1991 lyric for the Disney/Pixar movie
Cars, is my favorite song of all time, and definitely deserved to be the namesake for this album and new chapter in the group's career. With perhaps the most surprising guest choice of all, Rascal Flatts leans into their longstanding rock influence and brings on Lzzy Hale of Halestorm fame. Once again restructuring the instrumental and Rooney's 80s-disco inspired guitar licks in particular, the bridge and solo are the hardest the Flatts boys have
ever rocked out in their career. They certainly picked a capable vocalist to match. I'll admit, I had to spin it a few times before Hale's growls grew on me, but I soon enough arrived at the conclusion that they serviced the track perfectly, with LeVox even encouraging her to let it rip. This was one track I absolutely
couldn't forgive the band if it'd been botched, but thankfully they understood the assignment. And that's
Life Is a Highway: Refueled Duets.
I think this album works as a soft reintroduction of the band to the country marketplace, and especially as a celebration of their legacy. Like any highway, it's filled with peaks and valleys, much like the band's career, much like life. Rascal Flatts has been my soundtrack ever since Lightning McQueen set course for California almost two decades ago. Maybe I shouldn't be so tethered to my younger years, but I think you can never lose your childhood eyes, your
spark. And I don't think Rascal Flatts has. Only time will tell if their reunion is permanent. If it isn't, at least we got a proper victory lap. They've definitely earned the chance to celebrate their story, but theirs is one that still feels unfinished. I guess I'll just have to wait and see how many more roads they have yet to forge. If you're asking me, 25 years on, country's greatest trio still has plenty of gas left in the tank. And almost 20 years since I first found their music, life is still a highway. And I still want to ride it all night long.
