For many Americans outside the Country Music fan base, Keith Urban was not a household name when he married actress and fellow Aussie Nicole Kidman in June 2006. When just four months after their celebrated in nuptials, Urban, a recovering substance abuser by his own admission, suffered another relapse and after an intervention of friends and family checked himself into Betty Ford, his future as an artist and that of his marriage to the already once-bitten Kidman (she was married to actor Tom Cruise for eleven years before their sudden and still detail-murky divorce) seemed to hang in the balance. But he recovered with dignity, has thrived in both his personal and professional life, and cut two LPs since, the latest being Get Closer.

As a long-time fan, it pains me to open this article talking about Urban’s demons and but for their impact on his musical direction it would be none of my business. It is also too bad that it was under this cloud that his name became more recognized outside his original fan base, for this is a man who has struggled harder, suffered more setbacks, and yet all along possessed more raw talent and musical virtuosity than most artists in any musical genre, let alone country music. That he was a transplanted Aussie trying for years to break into the parochial Nashville scene beyond doing session work (for which he was renowned), and all the rejection and frustration this implies, makes his ultimate achievement of music super-stardom that much more worthy of praise. It also explains his tortured past where drugs and alcohol were often all he could turn to during the lean, lonely years. The contrast of his years of clawing his way to the top of the music scene vis-à-vis the coronation of twenty-something American Idol insta-stars needs no comment. I mean no disrespect to Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood among others, for they deserve their accolades. But Keith’s success has come through the old-fashioned dues-paying route and so garners more respect in my book.
One can follow his personal journey of ups and downs through his many albums, starting in 1999 with his eponymous first solo release that contains such soul-searching tunes as Out on My Own and his first hit But for the Grace Of God. His work is, in fact, a mirror held up to himself. He even tackles his own battle with addiction in the haunting You’re Not My God (from his second LP, Golden Road). Urban’s anthology also offers us happier glimpses of the bubbling optimism that exudes from his persona in Live to Love Another Day, Better Life and the wonderful God’s Been Good to Me (my favorite tune from my personal favorite 2004 album, Be Here). (more…)