Boots, Ballads & Breakthroughs – Country in the 1990s

 In this special two-part episode, host Michael Pezent pulls back the curtain on the decade that transformed country music. From the honky-tonk swagger of Garth Brooks to the global rise of Shania Twain, we explore how the 1990s launched a fifth-generation boom that changed the genre forever. With deep dives into two era-defining songs—“Friends in Low Places” and “You’re Still the One”—and a spotlight on legendary artists like Alan Jackson, Reba McEntire, Brooks & Dunn, Faith Hill, and the Dixie Chicks, this is the sound of country rising to meet the moment.
🎧 Stream now and step into the decade that took country to the world.

Chapters

• 0:00 Texas Stadium Spectacle
• 2:24 Setting Up The 1990s Revolution
• 4:12 Class Of ’89 And Radio Shifts
• 6:51 Alan Jackson’s Neo‑Traditional Rise
• 10:15 George Strait’s 90s Dominance
• 13:05 Reba’s Resilience And Ascent
• 17:25 A Breakout Era For Women
• 19:20 Clint Black And Authentic Craft
• 22:00 Brooks & Dunn And Line Dancing
• 26:35 The Chicks And Faith Hill Expand Reach
• 31:00 Why Two Songs Define The Decade
• 32:38 Writing Friends In Low Places
• 36:20 Recording The Barroom Chorus
• 40:10 Charts, Awards, And Cultural Impact
• 44:10 Shania’s Love Anthem Takes Flight
• 48:02 Crossovers, Grammys, And Global Reach
• 51:35 Legacy Of A Renaissance Decade
• 54:03 Closing Reflection And Sign‑Off

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:00

June twelfth, nineteen ninety three. Irving, Texas. Night has fallen over Texas Stadium, and sixty-five thousand fans are on their feet. A single spotlight cuts through the dark, tracing the silhouette of a man in a black cowboy hat. It's Garth Brooks, and he's electrifying the crowd with an energy country music had rarely seen before. Moments ago, everyone here was singing along to Friends in Low Places, their voices echoing to the rafters in perfect unison. Now, for the grand finale, Garth grips his guitar and, to wild gasps and cheers, he soars above the stage, suspended by wires. Fireworks crackle overhead as he glides across a sea of upturned faces. In this instant, country music feels as triumphant and spectacular as a rock concert, and the audience is spellbound. Some fans laugh and holler. Others wipe away tears of joy, all sharing a moment they'll never forget. The spirit of country music is in the air, bigger and bolder than ever. Not long ago, a spectacle like this would have been unthinkable. There was a time when arena shows belonged solely to rock and roll. Country stars played in small honky tonks and humble concert halls, not massive stadiums. But the 1990s changed everything. A new generation of country artists kicked open the doors to the big stage, bringing the heart of Nashville to the entire world. By the early 90s, country music had exploded into a worldwide phenomenon. Fans from all walks of life, farmhands and city kids alike, found themselves singing the same songs. Line dances swept neon-lit nightclubs. Fiddles and steel guitars blared from car radios on country and pop stations alike, and album sales shattered records as Nashville's stars became household names. The transformative energy of the decade was undeniable. Country music was no longer on the sidelines of American culture. It was center stage, under the brightest lights. This is the story of country music's fifth generation, the 1990s, a decade of upheaval and rebirth. In this first chapter of our two-part journey, we'll rewind to the dawn of the 90s and witness how a wave of young talent and fresh sound reawakened a genre. From the humble crackle of A.M. radio static giving way to crystal clear FM stations across the heartland, to the thunderous roar of sold-out crowds, we'll discover how country's honest stories and bold new showmanship captured millions of hearts. It's a cinematic tale of tradition meeting ambition, honky tonk roots hitting the arena stage, and the opening act of a country music revolution. How did we get from the quiet twang of a roadside bar to the deafening roar of Texas Stadium? The answer lies in an era when legends were born overnight. Songs became anthems, and America fell in love all over again with the stories in its songs. So get ready. The neon lights are glowing, the amplifiers are set to ten, and the stage is finally big enough to hold the sound of a new era.

SPEAKER_01: 3:45

Well, hello friends, and welcome to the Two for Tuesday podcast brought to you by Second Round Music, where each week we pull back the curtain on the music that made us. In this expanded part one of the series on the fifth generation of country music, we'll explore how the 1990s transformed the genre again in an era when cowboy hats filled stadiums and line dancing swept the nation, and country hits crossed over to mainstream pop like never before. And we'll set the stage with the key artists who define the decade beyond the two spotlight songs, and we'll examine their career highlights, stylistic contributions, chart triumphs, and cultural significance in shaping country music's explosive growth. Then we'll dive into two iconic songs from the era Garth Brooks's rowdy anthem, Friends in Low Places, and Shania Twain's crossover ballad, You're Still the One. Each song segment will unpack the story behind the music, from origins and instrumentation to its impact and enduring legacy. And by the end, you'll understand why the 90s were a pivotal chapter in country music's history, a time of tradition and transformation that forever broadened the genre's horizon. So grab your boots. Let's travel back in time when country music ruled the airwaves and won over the world. Now to understand country music's revolution of the 1990s, we've got to go back to the late 80s. And in 1989, a wave of fresh faces hit Nashville in what came to be called the class of 89. Artists like Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson, Clint Black, and Travis Trett all released debut albums that year, and they quickly became formidable forces on the charts, and they arrived with back to the basics ethos, often drawing on traditional honky tonk and bluegrass influences, yet appealing to a modern audience, hungry for something authentic. As new generation's early success swung the pendulum back toward neotraditional country sounds, making a turn away from the slick urban cowboy pop country of the 1980s. Now a cultural component was the industry shift that aided their rise, an expansion of FM radio in rural areas, thanks to the FCC's Docket 80-90. Now that gave country music a stronger, clearer presence on the dial. And Billboard's chart rule changes in 1990 put more emphasis on radio play over sales. And the stage was set for country music to explode into the mainstream. And explode it did. Are you ready to take control of your finances and build a brighter future? Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired, feeling broke all the time? My name is Michael Pazent, a certified master coach, and I created second round financial to provide personalized financial coaching based on the proven principles of Dave Ramsey's seven baby steps. Our services include but are not limited to one-on-one financial coaching through a student conference or face-to-face, budgeting strategies, debt reduction plans, emergency fund creation, retirement planning, and investment guidance. But why choose us? Because we believe in empowering our clients with the knowledge and tools they need to achieve financial peace. With our guidance, you'll gain clarity over your financial situation, develop a realistic and achievable plan, and experience hope and confidence in your financial future. I have over 15 years' experience teaching and guiding families in the Ramsey Principles, along with a degree in finance and work experience in the banking and insurance industries. So let's get started today. Go to secondroundfinancial.com and click Book Now to schedule your free consultation today. Now, amid this changing tide, Alan Jackson and George Strait, among others, emerged as standard bearers for traditional country values, each in their own way bringing past and present. Jackson, a lanky Georgia native with a white hat, had actually titled his indie debut New Traditional back in 1987, signaling his mission. Now his major label debut was in 1990, here in the real world, and it delivered on that promise with stone country ballads and honky talk up tempos that immediately struck a chord, and it yielded a string of hits, from the heartfelt title track to the nostalgic chasing that neon rainbow, and gave Jackson his first number one single in 1991. More impressively, Alan Jackson quickly proved himself a gifted songwriter, pinning many of his own hits with an ear for classic country storytelling. Whether it's the barroom wisdom of Don't Rock the Jukebox or the summary fun of Chattahoochee. Jackson's songs celebrated country's roots, fiddles, steel guitars and all, while still packing arenas. He showed Nashville that there was a major market for traditional, back to basics country music, even in an era of pop crossover. And over the decade, Jackson racked up dozens of top ten hits and became a three-time CMA entertainer of the year, all while keeping it country in its production and its persona. In fact, he famously lampooned the industry's pop leanings with songs like Gone Country and the George Strait duet Murder on Music Row around the turn of the millennium. Now, with over 60 million albums sold worldwide and 26 number one country singles to his name, Alan Jackson exemplified how sticking the country's core could still translate to colossal success in the 90s. Now, if Jackson was the fresh-faced newcomer carrying tradition forward, George Strait was the established star who kept the tradition alive and thriving into the nineties. Strait, often called the king of country, and kind of hard to argue that fact, had already been chart-topping through the 80s with his smooth Texas style. Now rather than fade, Strait's career hit new heights in the 90s, and he kicked off the decade with Love Without End, Amen, in 1990. Now that was a warm fatherhood ballad that became his first number one hit of the 90s, and it stayed at number one for five weeks. Now that's a feat unmatched in 13 years of country charts, heralding Strait's 1990s reign. Now throughout the decade, George Strait was a fixture on the charts, remarkably scoring at least one top ten hit every single year. An achievement no other act in history had managed over such a span. And he amassed 17 number one country singles in the 90s alone, including now classics like Heartland, Blue Clear Sky, Carrying Your Love With Me, and his only other four-time platinum-selling song, Check Yes or No. Now, though Street didn't chase pop trends, he benefited from the genre's boom, even starring in a Hollywood film, Pure Country, in 1992, and that introduced him to whole new audiences. His steady output of Pure Country kept longtime fans loyal. Even his new acts swirled around him. Critics and listeners alike respected Strait as a model of consistency, a smooth, baritone voice delivering three core truths. And by decades in, he was recognized by the ACM as the artist of the decade for the 1990s. That's a testament to how completely he dominated the era while still doing it Hank's way. As one Facebook tribute neatly put it, Strait's the only artist to ever have a top ten hit every year for over three decades. I'd have to say that's truly the makings of a king right there. Now together, Alan Jackson and George Strait ensured that neo-traditional country with steel guitars, fiddle solos, and heartfelt storytelling remained the soul of Ninety's country even as the genre grew ever bigger. Now, if the 1990s were a boom time for country music as a whole, they were an extraordinary time for women of country. Now no one embodied that more than Reba McIntyre, a fiery redhead from Oklahoma who had been fighting her way up since the late 1970s, and by the dawn of the nineties, Reba was already a seasoned star, but she kicked it into a new gear that would make her a true country legend. And after years of perfecting her craft and battling for creative control, Reba entered the 1990s poised to dominate. She had her own Nashville office, starstruck entertainment, her own band, and a clear vision for who she was as an artist. Then tragedy struck. In 1991, a plane crash claimed the lives of her touring band members. Now that was a devastating loss that Reba channeled into the deeply personal album for My Broken Heart in 1991. The title track and songs is their life out there resonated with millions of listeners, coping with grief and change. Reba's resilience and emotional storytelling endeared her even more to fans. And she went on to score numerous number one hits in the early 90s, including Barn Burners Like Fancy, a memorable remake of Bobby Gentry's song about a young woman's escape from poverty, and dramatic story songs like The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia. In 1993, her powerhouse duet, Does He Love You, with Linda Davis, hit number one and became an enduring classic of female rivalry and heartbreak. Reba's music videos grew cinematic and ambitious, and she became known for delivering theatrical, heartfelt performances that often left audiences in tears or standing in ovation. Beyond the music, Reba's very presence at the top of the chart signaled a shift in gender dynamics, and she proved that a female country artist could headline arenas, command high production values, and consistently release platinum albums, paving the way for younger women who followed. And in fact, Reba had been called the most successful female recording artist in country music of the 80s and 90s, with 22 number one hits in that 20 year span, and over 33 million albums sold in that period. As she notched more number one country albums than any other woman up to that time. And importantly, Reba used her platform to elevate female perspectives. Now that ethos, combined with her bold artistic choices, helped make the 1990s one of the best decades for women in country music, as historians have often noted. Now Reba's massive success, including Entertainer of the Year honors, Grammy Awards, and even a hit TV sitcom by decades in proved that women could not only stand toe-to-toe with the Garth and Allen's, but open doors that had long been closed. And indeed, those doors swung wide. The female breakthroughs of the 90s were unparalleled, and by the mid to late 90s, an array of women were topping the country charts and selling albums at platinum levels previously unheard of. Talents like Patty Loveless and Martina McBride kept the traditional flame alive with powerful ballads. Artists including Pam Tillis and Lori Morgan scored hit after hit on country radio. And teenage prodigy Lee Ann Rhymes debuted in 1996, sounded like the reincarnation of Patsy Klein, and promptly went multi-platinum. Songwriting voices like Mary Chapin Carpenter, who we talked about two weeks ago, and Dina Carter each had signature songs that became 90s anthems. The statistics tell the story. During the 1990s, women artists from Reba to Faith Hill, Shania Twain, Martina, Lee Ann, Trisha Yearwood, Joe D. Messina, and so many others all released platinum-selling albums, a streak of female commercial success never seen before. And in 1997, Shania Twain's Come On Over album would become the best-selling country album of all time. Now more on Shania a little bit later. And while in 1998, the Dixie Chicks shattered records for a female group, and it truly was an era where the ladies of country music took center stage and changed the face of the genre. Reba McIntyre's enduring presence, along with these rising stars, made the nineties a decade of unprecedented female empowerment in country music, both in artistry and in business. Now, while Reba and others ensured women were finally getting their due, young male stars like the class of 89 were blazing their own trails. Clint Black was one of the biggest of that cohort. And for a time, he was arguably Garth Brooks' biggest rival on the charts. A native Texan with a rich twang and a talent for songwriting, Clint Black burst out of the gate with a record-setting debut. Now we covered it a few weeks ago on this podcast. Now his 1989 album, Killin' Time, didn't just hit number one. It produced a stunning five number one singles on the Billboard Hot Country chart. Now that feat, five chart toppers from a debut album, was unprecedented in country music at that time. Songs Like a Better Man, his very first single, and the title track Killin Time became instant classics, announcing Clint Black as a new traditional country hero in the vein of Merle Haggard, whom Clint idolized. His success was no fluke. Clint wrote or co-wrote all of those hits, often with collaborator Hayden Nicholas, showcasing a knack for clever wordplay and Western imagery. He also showcased his Texas roots proudly. You could hear shuffles, steel guitars, and fiddles fill in the arrangements as he tipped his hat to the grates before him. As the 1990s progressed, Clint Black continued to churn out hits, even if Garth's meteoric rise somewhat eclipsed him in media attention. Clint's sophomore album, Put Yourself in My Shoes, in 1990, went multi-platinum, and he remained a consistent presence on radio with songs like the soulful Nobody's Home and later in mid-decade with hits such as When My Ship Comes In and The Romantic Like the Rain. In 1993, Clint teamed with another rising star, Winona Judd, for the emotionally charged duet, A Bad Goodbye, which hit the top five and widened his appeal. By the late 90s, he notched a few more number ones, including the title track, Nothing But the Tail Lights, in 1997. Clint Black's impact on the genre goes beyond chart positions. He was part of a wave that brought credibility back to country music's core sounds, and it inspired countless younger artists. As one retrospective noted, his songwriting and signature Texas twang set the standard for so many to follow. Alongside Alan Jackson, Travis Tripp, and Garth, Clint Black helped cement the early 1990s as an era where neo-traditional country flourished on mainstream radio. Collectively, the class of 89 prove that you could achieve massive popularity without sacrificing authenticity. Their success made it possible for Nashville to invest in more artists who could both honor the past and keep the genre moving forward. Clint Black may have played it a bit more low-key than Garcia Rena Rock Extravaganzas, but to die hard country fans, he was a hero of true country music during a very exciting time. No survey of Ninish Country is complete without Brooks and Dunn, the dynamic duo who brought honky tonk swagger and rock energy to the masses, and in the process kicked off a nationwide dance phenomenon. Kix Brooks, the mischievous showman, and Ronnie Dunn, the soulful powerhouse vocalist, were solo singers before a record executive had the inspired idea to pair the two together. And when they joined forces, the chemistry was magic. Their 1991 debut album, Brand New Man, delivered four consecutive number one singles. Brand New Man, My Next Broken Heart, Neon Moon, and Boot Scootin' Boogie, an opening salvo that announced country's hottest new act. Particularly, Boot Scootin' Boogie became Brooks and Dunn's signature song and a cultural touchstone. Written by Ronnie Dunn years earlier, the track is an upbeat ode to hitting the dance floor on a Friday night. And when released in mid-1992, it shot to number one on the country charts for four weeks. Even more significantly, Bootscookin' Boogie sparked a nationwide line dancing craze. Nightclubs across America, from Texas to Minnesota, suddenly had crowds sliding and stomping in unison to that song's shuffle beat. A choreographer named Bill Batter had actually created a line dance for the song out of Vancouver. And as the Brooks and Dunes version took off, that dance spread like wildfire. And for a few years, country line dances became a pop culture fad, featured in music videos and filling dance halls with new enthusiasts. The duo even released a dance remix of Boot Scootin' Boogie on a second album that capitalized on its club appeal. Brooks and Dunn's impact, however, goes beyond one song. They essentially reinvented the country duo format for a new era, blending Ronnie's rich, emotive voice, often compared to soulful crooners like Charlie Rich, with Kix's high energy stage presence and harmonies. Their music threaded the needle between honky tonk country and 70s rock. You'd hear fiddle and pedal steel in one moment and a blistering electric guitar solo the next. This crossover appeal helped them sell over 30 million albums in the 1990s alone, and that's an astonishing figure. Songs like the catchy Rock My World Little Country Girl and the Fiddle-fueled hard-working man became working class anthems. Yet Brooks and Dunn could also deliver ballads with surprising tenderness. Take Neon Moon, a late-night waltz under a bar's glow that remains a beloved 90s country staple. Artists like Casey Musgraves have even reinvented it as a pop song decades later. And by the mid-90s, the duo was an award show juggernaut, winning the CMA Vocal Duo of the Year every single year from 1992 through 2006. That's a testament to their dominance. And in 1996, they released their greatest hits with a new track, My Maria. Now that's a cover of a pop song by B.W. Stevenson from 1973. And that zoomed to number one, showing their knack for selecting material that cut across genres. Chet Atkins, observing the new country wave of the early 90s, quipped once, the music has gotten pretty bad. It's all that damn line dancing. But fans would argue that Brooks and Dunn's brand of country was joyful, inclusive, and exactly what the time called for. And they made country music fun, without losing its soul. With their cowboy hats, boots, and electric stage shows, Brooks and Dunn symbolized the arena ready, boot stomping spirit of 90s country. Every time Boot Scootin' Boogie played, the folks jumped up to dance, and it was clear the genre had entered a bold new era of participatory, high-energy entertainment. Now as the 1990s progressed, country music's popularity only grew, and in the late nineties, two very different acts demonstrated just how broad the genre's reach had become. On one hand, you had the Dixie Chicks, a Texas born trio of young women armed with fiddles, mandolins, banjos, and stunning three-part harmonies. Now on the other hand, Faith Hill, a powerhouse vocalist from Mississippi, who blended country roots with pop sophistication to become a crossover superstar. Both acts took country music to new heights, each in their own way. The Dixie Chicks, now known simply as the Chicks, burst onto the national scene in 1998, but they weren't overnight successes. They had paid their dues on the Texas Bluegrass circuit for years. In fact, sisters Marty and Emily on Fiddle, Mandelin, and Dobro had a couple of indie albums with two other lead singers before Natalie Maines joined as lead vocalist. Now that combination proved explosive. Their major label debut, Wide Open Spaces in 1998, became a phenomenon. Fueled by Natalie's strong, sassy voice and the tight musicianship of the sisters, the album was a fresh take on country, thoroughly rooted in traditional instruments and western swing bluegrass influences, yet with polished production and youthful attitude, hits like There's Your Trouble, Wide Open Spaces, and You Were Mine dominated radio and music video channels. And by early 1999, the Dixie Chicks were collecting awards and breaking records. Wide open spaces would eventually get certified, get this, 12 times platinum in the US, making it one of the best-selling country albums ever. It even earned a diamond certification. Now that's selling 10 million units. And it was still charting years later. Now they followed that up with an album by the name of Fly in 1999, which was just as successful. Ten times Platinum, or Diamond Certification, containing enduring songs like Cowboy Take Me Away or the cheeky empowering Goodbye Earl, the Dixie Chick's sound featured sweet yet steely harmonies. As one review noted, a mix of Texas tradition with modern sensibility. In a decade when so much of country music was blending with pop, the chicks proved that fiddle, banjo, and tight harmonies could pack arenas too. Now they attracted young female fans in droves and were often seen as heralds of a new generation who respected country's heritage but weren't bound by its conventions. And they covered Fleetwood Mike and they spoke their minds. By decades in, the Dixie Chicks were not only country superstars, but crossover ambassadors, winning Grammys and even catching attention overseas. And in 2024, wide open spaces was deemed culturally, historically, and aesthetically significant, enough to be added to the U.S. National Recording Registry. Now that honor underlines how transformative the chicks were in bringing a female-driven rootsy sound to the mainstream at the close of the 90s. Meanwhile, as the chicks were reviving acoustic country, Faith Hill was pushing the boundaries on how far a country artist could cross over into pop without losing their country identity. Faith began in the 1990s as a bright new country star. Her debut album, Take Me As I Am in 1993, spawned Wild One, a single that spent four weeks at number one, a remarkable run for a debut single, and the soulful cover of Peace of My Heart. And she followed it with It Matters to Me in 1995, racking up more number one hits and solidifying her as one of country's top female vocalists. Face early music fit squarely in the contemporary country mold of the time. Radio friendly ballads with mid-tempos with a slight pop sheen. But even as she was embraced in Nashville, she had pop star charisma and broad appeal. And in 1996, she married fellow star Tim McGraw in their duet, It's Your Love in 1997 became a huge hit across country and adult contemporary charts, hinting at her crossover potential. It was Faith Hill's third album, Faith, in 1998, that truly launched her into the pop stratosphere. The lead single, This Kiss, was an irresistibly catchy but upbeat love song with a clever, rapid-fire lyrics and a soaring chorus. Released in the spring of 1998, this kiss not only hit number one on the country chart, but it also reached number seven on the Billboard Hot 100, a significant crossover achievement at the time. And it became her first international hit, introducing Faith Hill to audiences well beyond country radio. The album, Faith, went on to sell over six million copies, proving that a country artist could court the pop market and expand the genre's fan base. But Faith Hill was just getting started, and in late 1999 she released Breathe, whose title track, Breathe, became a monster crossover hit, reaching number two on the Hot 100, and notably the number one song of 2000 on Billboard's year-end chart, while of course topping the country charts. Breed, the album, was immensely successful, eventually selling over 8 million copies in the U.S. and becoming one of the best-selling country albums of all time. The album blended lush pop production with country instrumentation, exemplified by Breed's sultry groove and the follow-up hit The Way You Love Me, which also crossed over to the Pop Top Ten. Face crossover was not an accident. It was carefully calibrated. You're still the one by Shania had just opened the pop floodgates, and more on that song a little later. And FaZe Team similarly remixed certain songs for pop radio, emphasizing or de-emphasizing instruments as needed to suit different audiences. In our autobiography, Faith reflected on that the music transcended genres, and the universal lyrics gave it a broad appeal, a sentiment that exactly captures her appeal. And by the end of the decade, Faith Hill had become a household name far beyond country circles. She performed on late-night talk shows, won multiple Grammys. She had earned five total in her career, and even was tapped to sing the theme song of the Pearl Harbor film in 2001. But importantly, she never abandoned country music. Her success brought her new listeners into the country fold. And in 1999, when she and Tim McGraw toured together, they sold out huge venues with a diverse crowd of fans. If Garth Brooks showed that country could rival rock in concert, Faith Hill showed that a country singer could stand beside the biggest pop divas and hold her on. Her glamorous image, music video stardom, and genre blending songs symbolized how country music by the late 90s had truly gone global and mainstream. Now it's worth noting that Shania Twain, who we'll focus on in a moment, was the other colossal crossover story of the 1990s. In fact, the biggest one. Between Shania and Faith, and the Dixie chicks from another angle, Country Music's audiences had broadened remarkably. In 1990, Country was largely seen as American Heartland music, and by 1999, it was on pop charts worldwide, with young girls in London or Sydney singing along to Shania's hits and line dance classes springing up in urban clubs. The Dixie Chicks revitalized band-driven Rootsie country for a new generation, and Faith Hill helped propel the genre into the 21st century pop conversion. Together, these artists, along with the ones we discussed earlier, illustrate how the 1990s era transformed country music into a bigger, more diverse tent while still honoring the traditions at its core. It was a Renaissance decade that set the stage for everything country music would become later. Now that we've set the scene with the major players and the trends of 90's country, it's time to zoom into two iconic songs that encapsulate the spirit of the era. Now the first is a rowdy barroom anthem from 1990 that became An Every Man Sing Along for the Ages. And the second, well it's a heartfelt love song from 1998 that proved country could conquer the pop world. Now let's dive into the heart of today's episode. The stories behind Friends in Low Places, and you're still the one. Now just a few chords of this song are enough to send any crowd of country music fans into a thrilled roar. It's the kind of song that people know by heart after the first verse, and one that they'll shout from the top of their lungs with a drink held high. But how did this everyman anthem come to be? Well, let's explore the origin, the creation, and the impact of Garth Brooks' signature hit, Friends in Low Places. Now the genesis of Friends in Low Places is a story as authentically country as the song itself. And it all started with a bit of offhand humor during a real life drinking session. Songwriters Earl, Bud Lee, and Dwayne Blackwell, both seasoned Nashville toonsmiths, were hanging out together one Sunday in 1989. And as the story goes, they actually skipped church to go have a beer at a local tavern. Not really something that I condone. Bud Lee soon realized he had forgotten his wallet that day. And when the bar tab came due and someone wondered how you planned to pay, Lee quipped, Well, don't worry, I have friends in low places. And it was the witty way to say, hey, I've got buddies at this bar, and in fact a friend of his was a cook at the tavern that would vouch for him. Now that single turn of phrase, friends in low places, lit a light bulb in the songwriters' minds. And for everyone who's ever been a bit short on cash or found themselves among good friends and not such a fancy joint, the line rang true. Blackwell and Lee scribbled it down as a potential for a song title. They recognized its relatable charm. Now from that bar stool inspiration, the two writers fleshed out a story that would encapsulate a working class, devil may care attitude. In writing sessions, they imagined the narrator who crashes his ex-lover's fancy wedding in boots and a cowboy hat, and then raises a toast with champagne in hand only to sarcastically bid farewell and return to his true buddies, the friends in low places down at his oasis, or better yet, the bar. Now the concept was brilliantly cheeky. A jilted good old boy who turns heartbreak into an occasion to party with his less than society friends. The lyrics practically wink at the listener with every line, from I guess I was wrong, I just don't belong, to the iconic chorus opener, cause I've got friends in low places where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away. As Cindy Watts would later note, the song's melody was infectious, and the lyrics easy to remember and relatable. It resonated with blue cock. Fans who saw themselves in this type of tale. Having crafted this gem of a song in 1989, Lee and Blackwell now needed the right artist to bring it to life. They immediately thought of a young singer who had impressed them, Garth Brooks. Garth at the time was a hungry newcomer in Nashville. He hadn't broken big yet. His debut album, Garth Brooks, was about to be released, but he had a powerful voice and a knack for selling a story and a song. And Lee and Blackwell asked Garth to record the demo of Friends in Low Places to pitch it to other artists, and Garth happily obliged. He recorded the demo out in Hendersonville, Tennessee, just outside of Nashville, sometime in 1989. Now legend has it, the demo was so catchy that Garth couldn't get the chorus out of his head for weeks, and he felt the pang of regret that he hadn't held the song for himself. After all, his first album was already finished. He couldn't include it on that one. Sensing this song was something special, Garth reportedly went to Lee and Blackwell and asked for permission to hold on to it for his second album. Allowing this then unknown artist to essentially call Debs on the song until he was ready to record it. Thanks to Duane and Bud for believing in me. Now this decision would pay off more than anyone could ever imagine. And by 1990, Garth Brooks' career had started to gain some steam. His debut had hits like The Dance and If Tomorrow Never Comes, and he went into the studio to cut this sophomore album, No Fences. True to his word, he recorded Friends in Low Places for that album, and both Gar and his producers knew that it was a standout. In fact, they chose it as the lead single, perfectly timed for a summer release when audiences would be primed for a sing-along party anthem. Now the song's Every Man Appeal fit Gar's persona to a T. And he was the charismatic Oklahoma boy who loved his fans like family and put on high-energy shows. And Friends in Low Places would soon crystallize that image in the public's mind. Now where and how was Friends in Low Places recorded? Well, Garth Brooks cut the track in 1990 at Jack's Tracks recording studio in Nashville, Tennessee, under the guidance of producer Alan Reynolds. And by this time, Garth had his touring band and favorite session players working with him. Now the session for Friends in Low Places turned into something more than just a recording date. It became a mini party, which is exactly what the song needed. To authentically capture the rowdy chorus of friends singing along, Garth and his team invited a bunch of folks into the studio to lend their voices. And that included the songwriters, Bud Lee and Dwayne Blackwell, themselves, as well as many musicians and friends associated with the project. And indeed, if you listen to the last choruses of the song, you can hear it swell into a ragged, boisterous harmony of voices beyond just garfs, as if the whole bar had joined in by this point. Now they even popped open beer cans during the recording. Subtle sounds of cans popping open made it into the mix to give it a live barroom ambience, and it was an inspired production chore. Rather than a polished, sterile tape, they opted for a party atmosphere on tape. The musicians on the track were top-notch as well. Garf's recording often featured Nashville's 18 players mixed with members of his touring band, creating a tight but a lively sound. And on Friends in Low Places, you can distinctly hear the contributions of a few key instruments, the lazy acoustic guitar strum that opens the song, and the rolling bass line, and the twang of steel guitar crying in the background. In fact, prominent steel guitarist Bruce Boughton played on the track, adding that unmistakable country whine, especially in the second verse and the bridge. Fiddle ace Robert Jacobs laid down some saw and fiddle lines that accentuated the song's honky talk energy. And the rhythm section was anchored by bassist Mike Chapman and drummer Milton Sledge, who kept a steady ballroom waltz grew in three, four time. And on the piano, Bobby Wood, a veteran who had played with Elvis Presley's band, added the honky talk piano feels that gave the track a ragtime kick on the courses. Electric guitarists like Chris Lusinger and James Garver provided the general electric strums and the brief but effective electric guitar solo that bridges into the final courses. The No Fences album credits show a who's who of players contributing. Marcus Stevens on acoustic, he's a legend. Johnny Garcia and Pat Algar on guitars, with Algar also singing back and vocals, and even members of Garce Road Band like Ty English on acoustic guitar and back and vocals, and Dave Gant, fiddle, keyboards, and vocals, all join the fray. Now what's remarkable is how live the recording feels. The engineers Mark Miller and Dan Hines captured the rowdiness without it turning into pure chaos. Garth's lead vocals is strong and clear. He starts in a low baritone draw, almost imitating the low paces by hitting a deep note on the word low in the chorus, and gradually lets loose more as the song progresses, as if the character himself is losing his tie and getting more boisterous with each chorus. And by the time that final chorus comes, Garth is practically hollering with joy, and you can hear him hooping as a song fades out. The layering of all those backing vocals was meticulously credited in the album's liner notes. Besides the band and the songwriters, people like Garth's wife, Sandy Brooks, producer Alan Reynolds' assistant, studio staffers, and friends were all listed as part of the Friends in Low Places chorus gang, and they truly assembled a cast of friends to sing about friends, and a perfect example of art imitating life. Another interesting tidbit, the studio version of the song fades out of that chorus, but Garth would later add an extra third verse in his live performances, a more scandalous verse about bumming around in a dive bar permanently. And that became legendary among fans. And that third verse wasn't on the original recording, and it was apparently written by Blackwell and Lee, but it was cut from length. Yet by popular demand it became a staple in concerts, showing how this song took on a life behind the studio inversion. The combination of top-tier band playing with loose, joyous abandon, and a smart production approach to include real bar sounds, group singing, and Garth Brooks' magnetic voice resulted in a track that sounds like a Friday night will you pals? Producer Alan Reynolds, known for prioritizing emotion over perfection, clearly allowed a bit of rough edges here. Clinking glasses, crowd noise in the mix, because it made the listener feel like they were right there. And decades later, that recording still leaps out of the speakers with freshness and fun. Now Capitol Records knew that they had a hit on their hands, and they rolled out Friends in Low Places as a lead single from the No Fences album. And it hit the radio in August of 1990, timed as a late summer anthem, and boy did it take off. The song rocketed up the Billboard Hot Country Singles Chart, and by September of 1990, it had reached number one. And it then dominated the number one spot for four straight weeks, making it one of the longest running country chart toppers of that year. Now this four-week run at number one was notable. At the time, it hadn't been common for a song to stay there at the top that long. And it signaled that Friends in Low Places wasn't just a hit, it was a phenomenon. And country fans couldn't get enough of it. Jukeboxes across America were spinning it nonstop. But beyond the country chart, the song even made a dent in the mainstream, and it appeared on the all-genre Billboard Hot 100 chart, and it peaked at number 42. A respectable showing for a country tune in 1990. Now this was before the big crossover wave later in the decade. The relatively low Hot 100 peak is a bit misleading because at the time, songs needed a physical single release to chart higher on the top 100. Now Garf's focus was on country radio, where the song was ubiquitous. In terms of sales, the No Fences album flew off the shelves, eventually shipping 17 million copies in the U.S., thanks in large part to the popularity Friends in Low Places. In fact, No Fences remains one of the top ten best-selling albums of all time in the U.S. across all genres, which is staggering. Friends in Low Places was absolutely the engine driving those early sales, as it was the first single and the signature track. The song's success translated into numerous accolades. At the 1990 Academy of Country Music Awards, Friends in Low Places won Single of the Year. And the following year, at the CMA Awards in late 1991, covering the songs released in 1990, it took home the CMA Single of the Year trophy also. Now these twin wins underscored how the industry recognized the song's massive impact. Now it's somewhat rare for a party anthem to win those awards. Often that goes to ballads or more serious fair. But Friends in Low Places so perfectly captured the zeitgeist that it was an obvious choice. Garth Brooks, still early in his career, suddenly found himself with one of the biggest songs country music had ever seen in decades. But perhaps the most telling measure of the song's success is its cultural impact and longevity. Friends in Low Places quickly became more than just a hip. It became a karaoke standard, a barroom staple, and a unifying sing-along at a concert. Garth's own concerts proved it. As journalist Cindy Watts described, when Garth plays the first two notes of that song live, the crowd instantly erupts into cheers. Two notes are all it takes for tens of thousands of people to recognize it and to go wild. And by the time Garth's career reached its mid-90s peak, he was known to sometimes stretch friends in low places out in concerts as the audience kept singing chorus after chorus. And it became a highlight of his live shows, often with Garth encouraging the audience to take over the vocals while he stood back and just based in the moment. The song also seeped into pop culture at large. Country music had a firm foothold in American households by the early 90s, and Friends in Low Places was often referenced and played on TV shows, at weddings, and even sporting events. At the 1991 Grammy Awards, Garth performed the song on national television, and that was a memorable production where the stage started as a formal black tie affair, fitting the wedding scenario, and then transformed into a roadhouse bar set, with Garth literally showing up in boots among tuxedoed extras. This visual, Garth in jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat amid a fancy setting perfectly illustrated the song's narrative and delighted viewers. By performing it on such a mainstream platform, Garth helped solidify country's crossover into pop culture. In terms of a wars beyond country, Friends in Low Places wasn't a Grammy winner. Garth did win a Grammy for another song, The Dance, around that time. But its critical reception was positive. Many critics noted how the song's melody and structure were classic country, a mid-tempo waltz, simple three-chore progression, but the attitude was fresh and irreverent, a formula that would influence many 90s hits after that. Now it's worth noting that the Song of the Year Award, which goes to the songwriters at the CMAs and ACMs that year, went to another song. But Blackwell and Lee undoubtedly benefited hugely from the Single of the Year wins and saw their creation become immortal. Now what's the legacy of Friends in Low Places? Simply put, it's one of those songs that transcends its era and becomes part of the fabric of the country music history. Over thirty years after its release, you'd be hard pressed to find a country bar or cover band that doesn't include this song in their repertoire. It routinely ranks high on lists of greatest country songs or fan favorite songs. For example, in 2021, it was included in Rolling Stone's updated list of 500 greatest songs of all time, one of only a handful of 90 country songs to make that list. Now the title itself has entered a lexicon. People use the phrase friends in low places jokingly in conversations. Kind of a nod to the song. One measure of the legacy is how the song is embraced by new generations. Millennials and Gen Z country fans know Friends in Low Places as well as their parents did. It's a staple at weddings and hockey talks regardless of the age of the attendees. It's not uncommon to see a 22-year-old who was born after 1990 belting every word. The song's appeal is timeless. The theme of shrugging off formalities and hanging with your real friends over a drink is pretty universal after all. For Garth Brooks' career, this song was truly defining. He had other massive hits, as we mentioned, the dance, thunder rolls, etc. But Friends in Low Places became his calling card. It showcased a rock star showman's side of Garth, the guy who would whip an arena of 70,000 into a beer drink and sing-along frenzy. The song's success helped Garston, No Fence's album, win CMA Album of the Year in 1991, and submitted him as the new superstar of country music. It's widely said that Gar's earth-shattering popularity in the 90s, where he went on to sell more albums in that decade than any other artist in any genre, was due in part to drawing in listeners who thought they didn't like country music. But a fun assembly song like Friends in Low Places was exactly the kind of track that could win over skeptics. It bridged the gap. It was undeniably country, but everyone could sing along and feel included. In retrospect, Friends in Low Places is often credited with shifting the tone of country music in the 1990s toward a more arena-friendly communal experience. Before Garth, concerts were more reserved. After Garth and this song, concerts became participatory events, almost like rock shows. The song's success indicated to Nashville that audiences craved those big feel-good moments just as much as the tear in your beard ballads. Sure enough, through the 90s, many artists tried to write their own Friends in Low Places anthem for regular folks. And you can hear its influence in later hits like Toby Keith's Barroom Songs or Brad Paisley's Good Time and Crowd Pleasers. One can't overlook the song's final lyrical message as part of its legacy. I got friends in Low Places. Well, that line flips a script on the idea of what success or happiness is. The narrator is content and even proud to have his lowly friends and be one of the regular people. It struck a chord in an era when country was proudly differentiating itself from upscale pop. It became an anthem of solidarity for the working class and the down-to-earth. In concerts, when thousands sing it together, it's like a big fraternity of folks saying, We're all friends here in these low places, and we're having a blast. That spirit is the song's greatest legacy. Its ability to bring people together, erase worry of three minutes, and celebrate the simple joy of camaraderie. Decades later, Garth Brooks often closes his shows with friends in low places, or saves it for an encore, because he knows no one's going home until they've heard that song. It endures as one of the essential country songs of the 20th century, and it continues to shape the genre's identity. As we leave the smoky neon glow of Garf's rowdy oasis and the chorus echoes in our ears, we're reminded that sometimes a song that began with a forgotten wallet and a quick joke can end up shaping an entire generation's musical memoirs. Blame it all on my roots. I showed up in boots. But now, who doesn't know what comes next? Friends in Low Places hasn't just stood the test of time. It's invited each new wave of country fans to pull up a stool, raise a glass, and sing along with your old buddies. And in the grand soundtrack of the 1990s, it's a song that will always play on. Now leaving the rowdy hockey town. Talk behind. Our journey through 1990s country now takes us on a very different place. The realm of a tender crossover love ballad that conquered the world. Shania Twain's You're Still the One is not only one of the defining songs of the late 1990s country, but it's a track that symbolized the genre's newfound global reach. With its heart on your sleeve lyrics, polished production, and Shania's radiant voice, you're still the one bridge the gap between country and pop in unprecedented ways. So let's dive into how the song was written and recorded and why it remains such a beloved testament to enduring love. By the mid-90s, Shania Twain had already begun turning heads in Nashville with her second album, The Woman in Me, produced by legendary rock producer Robert John Muttlang, whom she married in 1993. Shania was a fresh kind of country star, a Canadian-born singer with model looks, pop sensibilities, and genuine country roots from her hard scrabble upbringing. However, not everyone was supportive initially. Shania faced skepticism from some in the industry who thought she was too pop, and that her marriage to Lang, an industry powerhouse who had worked with ACDC and Def Leopard, was a mere strategic move. There were whispers that Shania was just a flash in the pan, and that her relationship and her career wouldn't last. Now this environment of doubt is what directly inspired You're the One. Shania and Mutt Lang began writing for her third album in the mid-1990s, and their songwriting often drew from personal experiences. As Shania later explained, You're still the one was directly inspired by media scrutiny surrounding her marriage to Lang. People said that they were an odd couple who wouldn't stay together, given their different backgrounds, and age gap. Lang was nearly seventeen years her senior, and Shania wanted to answer those naysayers in the best way she knew, through song. She and Lang set out to craft a love song that celebrated a lasting against the odds relationship. Lyrics of Year the One read like a heartfelt letter between two lovers who proved everyone wrong. The opening lines are practically directed at those who doubted. Looks like we made it. Look how far we've come, my baby. They acknowledge might have took the long way, but affirm we knew we'd get there someday. It's both romantic and a bit triumphant. The course is simple, but incredibly effective. You're still the one I run to, the one that I belong to. You're still the one I want for life. In each repetition of you're still the one, you hear steadfast conviction. The brilliance lies in how universal the sentiment is. Any couple who had endured challenges could see themselves in it. Yet it was rooted in Shania's very real life experience. Shania and Mutt wrote the song together, often working separately due to their schedules. In her memoir, From This Moment On, Shania recalled how they had spent time apart, and she'd be out promoting or touring while he was in the studio working on tracks, and they would exchange ideas when they reunited. Shania noted a particular magic moment in the writing process. As she was working out the chorus melody, Mutt began singing a counter melody underneath her, echoing the phrase, You're still the one in harmony. This gave the chorus a thrilling lift. She said it gave her chills, and she knew that they had a hit chorus. Indeed, if you listen to the recording, during the chorus you can hear a male voice. Now that's Mutt Lang himself, who often sang backing vocals on Shania's records. This was softly underpinning Shania's lead with a line, You're Still the One, adding depth and warmth. Now the song's structure and tone are notably gentle and positive. Unlike heartbreak ballads, this was a celebration ballad, and it took a theme common in country, enduring love, but framed it from a place of victory. We're still together, rather than longing or loss. You're still the one was released as a single on January 27th of 1998 in the U.S. as the second U.S. single and the first major international single from the Come On Over album. Now leading up to it, Shania had already notched a country radio hit with the playful Love Gets Me Every Time in late 1997, which was a number one hit in country music. But that song didn't cross over to pop. You're still the one was a deliberate attempt to cross over. And Mercury Nashville Universal did a full court press. Now they marketed it simultaneously to country, pop, and adult contemporary radio. Now this dual marketing strategy was relatively novel, normally. Normally you'd wait to see how the song does on one format before pushing another. But Shania's team knew that they had a special track that could break out beyond country. Now the results were spectacular, and on the country charts, you're still the one rose to number one on Billboard's Hot Country Singles chart in the spring of 1998. Interestingly, it only spent one week at number one on the country charts, because by then the competition on country radio was fierce, and the song was perhaps already crossing over and slightly cooling on country as her next country single took over. The key story on the pop side, You're Still the One became Shania's first true top ten hit on Billboard Hot 100, peaking at number two on the Hot 100 in spring of 1998. It was kept out of the number one spot only by a massive pop RB hit. Still, a number two Hot 100 peak was a huge deal for a country song at that time, and it signaled that Shania had effectively cracked the mainstream code. Now additionally, you're still the one soared to the top of the Adult Contemporary chart, hitting number one on the AC while it stayed there for multiple weeks. Now the song's wholesome, love-affirming vibe was tailor-made for Adult Contemporary Radio, which often caters to slightly older listeners and emphasizes ballads. It dominated the AC playlist through much of 1998. Now internationally, the song was also charting well. It hit number three in Ireland, number ten in the UK, notable among country songs. And then across Europe, where Shania was being marketed as a pop act, it introduced her to millions. In Australia and Canada, it was warmly received. In Canada, her home country, it was massive on both country and pop charts. And by the end of 1998, you're still the one had become one of the years' biggest singles worldwide and certainly one of the most successful country crossover singles in history. It ultimately sold over two million physical copies in the U.S., earning a platinum certification, and millions more through radio airplay and later digital downloads. Now critically, the song got its due as well. At the 1998 Grammy Awards, Shania Twain took home two Grammys for You're Still the One, Best Country Song, which was awarded to Shania and Mutt as songwriters, and Best Female Country Vocal Performance. It was also nominated for Record of the Year and Song of the Year overall, which shows just how much it had permeated the general Grammy Votership consciousness. Those type awards you usually don't see country nominees. Now, while it didn't win the all-genre song or record of the year, the nominations themselves underscored that the song was considered one of the most standout recordings of any genre that year. Now on the country award circuit, you're still the one helped Shania win CMA's Vocalist of the Year in 1999, and Come On Over the Album won the ACM Album of the Year, partly on the strength of its singles like this one. Commercially, the successor You're Still the One Turbocharged the Come On Over album sales. And the album, released in November 1997, went on to become the best-selling country album ever, with over 20 million copies sold in the U.S. and 40 million worldwide. The song absolutely played a role in that. Many bought the album for the track and then discovered many of the other hits that were on it. Chania herself said the music transcended genres, and the universal message helped its broad appeal, which sums up the crossover story quite nicely. Now the label's tact of releasing the international version of the album in ninety eight, remixed for pop audiences, was unusual, but very successful. It essentially meant Shania had two parallel albums, one in North America with a little bit more twang, and one for global markets with a little less. You're still the one existed on both, proving its adaptability. One interesting chart footnote though, on the year-end charts for 1998, You're Still the One was one of the top songs across multiple formats. It also broke some records. At one point, it was the highest charting country single on the Hot 100 since Kenny Rogers and Dolly Pardon's Islands in the Stream in 1993. And it would eventually be surpassed and peaked by other country crossovers in early 2000s, like Faith Hill's Brie, which hit number two on the Hot 100 as well. But Shania blazed that trail in the 90s. Now, in summary, the release of You're Still a One turned Shania Twain from a country star to a global superstar. And it validated the crossover experiment and essentially opened the floodgates for countries pop fusion at a turn of the millennium. Now after Shania, artists like Faith Hill, Leanne Rhimes, and later Taylor Swift in the late 2000s would follow the template of releasing mixes for multiple markets, and you're still the one was a proof of concept that you could have a massive mainstream hit while still being identifiably country. A balancing act that few had managed since maybe Dolly Pardon's 1980s hit. For starters, it became one of the most celebrated love songs of a decade. Countless couples have adopted it as their song, and it became a staple at weddings, often as the first dance for newlyweds, since its lyrics so perfectly capture the love that it endured and silenced all critics. Even today, mention titles of many people, and you'll hear, oh, that's our wedding song. Or we played that at our anniversary. It joins the ranks of timeless love ballads that transcend trends. And in context of Shania's career, you're still the one is frequently cited as the song that made her the best-selling female country artist of all time. Now she already had the success, but this is the song that took her into the stratosphere. And with its success, Shania graced magazine covers, talk shows, and award stages far beyond country circles. She proved that a country female artist can command the same global stage as pop stars, something not really seen since maybe Dolly Pardon or Olivia Newton John in early eras. And even then, Shania's reach was arguably wider at her peak. All in all, the legacy of You're Still the One is that of a modern standard. It's a song likely to be sung and cherished for decades to come. Whenever two people celebrate a long-lasting love, Shania's words and melody have a good chance of being part of that celebration. For the country genre, it's a shining jewel from the late 90s that illustrates just how far and how wide country music's heart can reach when Pack is just right. And as we wrap up this song story, imagine a quiet moment, maybe a couple's anniversary dance, as those opening piano notes play, Shania's voice starts. Looks like we made it. It still can bring a tear to the eye or smile to the face, because it taps into something evergreen. The joy of proving love skeptics wrong and holding on to one another in love. And in the big picture of the 90s country, you're still the one represents the hopeful, boundless optimism that propels the genre into a new millennium. So there you have it, the nice long journey through the highs and transformations of 1990s country music, told through the era's defining artist and two of the most iconic songs. And we saw how a new generation of stars like Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson, Reba McIntyre, Brooks and Dunn, the Dixie Chicks, Faith Hill, and so many others propelled country music to unprecedented popularity, each bringing their own style, from honky talk anthems to heartfelt ballads, and in the process, expanding what country music could be. We took a deep dive into Friends in Low Places, discovering how an Improm 2 joke over drinks became the everyman anthem that still unites friends in song decades later. And we unravel the story of You're Still the One, the tender ballad born from Shania Twain's personal love and delivered to the world as a message of enduring romance, crossing borders and genres. Together, these songs encapsulate the spirit of a decade when country music both held on to its roots and reached for the stars. When a steel guitar can coexist with a pop beat, and when cowboy hats fill stadiums, and when lyrical truths touch the listeners everywhere from small town honky talks to international arenas. The legacy of the 1990s country is still alive every time a new artist blends traditional twang with modern flair. Or whenever a crowd erupts in knowing cheer at the first notes of a beloved classic, it was an era that gave us friends in low places to celebrate with and the ones we love to hold on to. As we reflect on that special time, we're reminded that country music's greatest power is in its stories and its emotions, the ability to make us laugh, cry, dance, and sing together, feeling connected through shared experiences. So thanks for joining me today on the Two for Tuesday podcast brought to you by Second Round Music and your host, Michael Pizent, where we take a deep dive into the artist, the stories, and the songs that shape the soundtrack of our lives. And just remember, we love you and we need you. And we'll see you next time. God bless you!