By: Nathaniel Brooks
There is a certain kind of country song that arrives with a title so thoroughly American that you can practically hear the marketing department uncapping its red, white and blue markers. Gary Pratt’s “4th of July,” featuring Kate Szallar, would appear to qualify. The title promises fireworks, summer nostalgia, patriotic sentiment and perhaps an obligatory reference to cold beer.
Then Pratt starts singing about February.
This is either an extraordinary lapse in holiday scheduling or a songwriter who understands that the most useful thing about a familiar image is the opportunity to turn it inside out.
Fortunately, it’s the latter.
Released July 3rd through MTS Records, “4th of July” is not a patriotic anthem but a cheerful, unapologetically suggestive country-pop single about romantic chemistry. Its fireworks aren’t illuminating the neighborhood. They’re apparently going off in the living room.
The song opens with an ordinary February evening, two people staying indoors and a series of kisses that threaten to make the winter weather irrelevant. By the chorus, Pratt has transformed the Fourth of July into an elaborate euphemism for physical attraction.
There are bodies, parties and a recurring “boom boom boom” that leaves relatively little to the imagination.
One could accuse the song of being obvious. One would also have to acknowledge that obviousness has rarely prevented a country chorus from becoming effective.
Indeed, the central conceit belongs to a long tradition of Nashville songwriting in which everyday American imagery doubles as a vocabulary for adult romance. Country music has been turning domestic objects, weather conditions and recreational activities into sexual metaphors for decades. Pratt’s contribution is to borrow an entire national holiday.
It’s a reasonably ambitious appropriation for a song whose second verse essentially celebrates staying on the couch.
The record’s appeal depends heavily on Pratt’s ability to deliver these lines without sounding either embarrassed or excessively pleased with himself. He manages that balancing act through a relaxed, conversational vocal performance.
Pratt doesn’t attempt to reinvent himself as a swaggering young country heartthrob. His voice carries the ease of a performer comfortable enough with his material to let the humor emerge naturally.
That makes the flirtation more convincing.
Kate Szallar, meanwhile, provides something more substantial than the customary female voice added to brighten a chorus. Her contribution helps establish the mutuality of the attraction. Rather than listening to one man describe his supposedly spectacular romantic evening, we hear two performers sharing the emotional space.
Their voices complement each other without turning the song into a competitive duet.
This is particularly important because “4th of July” is not exactly overflowing with narrative complications. Nobody has a secret. Nobody is leaving town. Nobody is discovering an inconvenient text message from an ex.
The central dramatic development is that two people are enjoying each other’s company, and apparently doing so enthusiastically.
For contemporary country, a genre that frequently alternates between romantic devastation and beer-assisted emotional recovery, that almost qualifies as a radical narrative choice.
Producer Adam Ernst deserves credit for understanding the assignment.
Ernst, whose recording credits include work with Bailey Zimmerman, Mickey Guyton and Chase Matthew, produced the single and performed every instrument on it. That makes “4th of July” an unusually self-contained studio production, although its greatest strength is that it doesn’t sound like a demonstration of one musician’s versatility.
The guitars, rhythmic accents and contemporary-country polish serve the song’s central hook rather than competing with it.
There is a commercial intelligence to the arrangement. The chorus arrives with the requisite lift, the production remains bright and accessible, and nothing distracts unnecessarily from Pratt and Szallar.
Whether that constitutes artistic innovation is another question.
“4th of July” doesn’t challenge the boundaries of country music. Its melodic language is familiar, its metaphor is deliberately uncomplicated, and its repeated refrain favors immediate memorability over lyrical development.
But innovation isn’t the only measure of successful popular music.
Sometimes the achievement lies in knowing precisely what sort of record you’re making.
Pratt has created a single designed to generate smiles rather than revelations. The hook is easy to remember, the mood is buoyant, and the romantic imagery is suggestive enough to be playful without becoming particularly risqué.
The most interesting aspect may be the way its holiday packaging conceals a song that isn’t actually seasonal.
Beginning in February is a clever decision. It establishes that July Fourth is a comparison, not a setting. The excitement Pratt describes can occur in any month, provided the right person is sharing the room.
That gives the record a better chance of surviving beyond its obvious summer-playlist opportunities.
There’s also an appealing contrast between the grandiosity of the imagery and the modesty of the circumstances. A holiday involving nationwide celebrations becomes a private experience requiring no crowd, no elaborate plans and no expensive entertainment.
The fireworks are imaginary. The satisfaction is not.
With another collaboration, “Never Been in Love,” on the horizon, Pratt and Szallar appear interested in developing their musical partnership beyond a single summertime release.
“4th of July” provides an encouraging foundation.
It’s not a profound statement about romance, and its chorus probably won’t inspire graduate seminars in songwriting. But it accomplishes something that can be surprisingly difficult: making uncomplicated happiness sound genuinely enjoyable.
Gary Pratt and Kate Szallar have delivered a polished, flirtatious country single that understands the difference between a grand spectacle and a good time.
The fireworks may be metaphorical.
The fun is entirely real.
