Urban was a good singer/songwriter, but he wasn’t putting stars in my eyes. And that floppy haircut fit for some kid named Skylar on my brother’s fifth grade baseball team was like a giant warning to stay away from all blonde Australian men with guitars. There was that way in which every glance at Urban’s Golden Road album cover brought up memories of Britney Spears’ “I’m Not a Girl (Not Yet a Woman)” music video. To me, Urban’s always been a goofy cowboy, and one who seems to be allergic to putting his razor on a setting beyond “graze.” Sure, he’s a great country music artist, but so was Garth Brooks and you don’t see me (or anyone) clamoring after him like a pack of crying teenagers (at least not after he dabbled as Chris Gaines, the Criss Angel of country music). I understand that to some folks, especially fans of country music, Urban is a certifiable babe - but sorry, ladies and gents - I just never understood it.
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