Randall King’s “Thinkin’ ’Bout Drinkin’” Is a Neon-Soaked Honky-Tonk Confession
- All Country News
- 18 minutes ago
- 3 min read
There’s a certain kind of country song that doesn’t just play through the speakers, it lingers in the neon haze of a last-call barroom, clings to the rim of a half-empty glass, and stares back at you from the mirror behind the shelf of top-shelf regrets. With “Thinkin’ ’Bout Drinkin’,” Randall King delivers exactly that kind of song, a honky-tonk heartbreaker that feels destined for jukebox immortality.
King has long positioned himself as a torchbearer for traditional country, a modern-day disciple of dancehall steel and two-steppin’ sorrow. But on “Thinkin’ ’Bout Drinkin’,” he leans even harder into the raw undercurrent that has always defined the genre’s most enduring records: temptation, memory, and the dangerous comfort of old habits.
From the first line, “Well I haven’t felt like this for a long time / The truth is I can’t remember when’l King drops us into the quiet aftermath of heartache. It’s not loud. It’s not dramatic. It’s weary. And that weariness is what makes it sting.
A Barstool Confession
There’s a bar. There’s a bottle. And there’s a man toeing the line between resolve and relapse.
“There’s a bar and there’s a bottle just waitin’ / That don’t know how it’s gonna end / But I can tell you it won’t be pretty” he sings, his delivery soaked in equal parts ache and honesty. The brilliance of the lyric isn’t in exaggeration, it’s in restraint. King doesn’t glamorize the spiral. He doesn’t romanticize the burn. He simply acknowledges it.
This isn’t a party anthem. It’s a confession.
The hook circles around a devastating question: Can it still drown a memory? It’s a line that cuts deeper than the whiskey ever could. Because at its core, “Thinkin’ ’Bout Drinkin’” isn’t about alcohol. It’s about longing. About the seductive pull of something familiar when the unfamiliar pain of heartbreak creeps in.
Traditional Country, Timeless Trouble
The track sits comfortably in King’s wheelhouse, a steel guitar sighing like it’s been here before, rhythm section steady as a Texas dancehall floor. It’s classic without feeling cosplay. Authentic without trying too hard.
King has built his brand on honoring the sounds of ’90s country and the golden-era honky-tonk greats, and “Thinkin’ ’Bout Drinkin’” feels like it could’ve spun on a jukebox next to George Strait or Keith Whitley without anyone batting an eye. But make no mistake, this is a Randall King record. The ache in his baritone is uniquely his own.
The Comfort That Cuts
There’s something quietly devastating about the repetition in the chorus. “Yeah, I’m thinkin’ ’bout drinkin’ again.” It’s not triumphant. It’s not reckless. It’s reflective, almost resigned. King understands the tension between strength and surrender, and he lets it breathe.
In an era where country radio often leans toward tailgates and tequila shots, King reminds us that the genre’s roots are tangled up in far messier emotions. Songs like this are what built the backbone of country music, stories about flawed people wrestling with familiar demons.
“Thinkin’ ’Bout Drinkin’” doesn’t offer a resolution. It doesn’t promise redemption. It simply sits in the moment before the first sip, the quiet, dangerous space where you’re still deciding.
And that’s what makes it jukebox good.
With this latest release, Randall King doesn’t just revisit honky-tonk tradition, he reclaims it, glass in hand, heart on sleeve, and neon flickering overhead.
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