Nothing Ruins Your Day Quite Like Liking A Florida Georgia Line Song




Seeing as my commute is so long these days, I can’t listen to just one thing. I have to jump around. Today I was bouncing between sports talk, Coloring Book, and Cat Country when this song came on. By the second chorus I was already singing along with the “Hoooly, hooooolllllly, HOOOOLLLLYYYYYYY I’M HIGH ON LOVING YOUUUUUUU” and new I needed it on Apple Music. That’s when I braved the dangers of using a cell phone while driving and SoundHunded (Shazam’d flows so much better, but I’m a SoundHound guy) it, only to learn that I had been very much enjoying a Florida Georgia Line song.


Day ruiner.


A little part of me dies inside every time I like a Florida Georgia song and that sucks, because I don’t have many living, light-filled parts left. I don’t even really have a problem with their music in general, most of it is catchy pop-country and can be good summer jams.


But their look? Oh mama, their look. If they were some secretive country band that put out hits and stayed in a basement, they’d be great. But I’ve seen them. Since I know what they look like, I can’t in good conscience support them. Florida Georgia Line looks like if an Axe Body Spray sales team was tasked with creating pop stars using only what you can find inside a WalMart. Just stop appearing in public so I can enjoy your music. Please. Take your “Hi we’re Nickleback and we just learned country” looks and knock it off. Put the music out there, don’t put yourselves out there. It ruins everything.