First Listen: Holler Staff Reacts to Parker McCollum’s Self-Titled Album

The build-up to Parker McCollum’s self-titled album has been the talk of the town, with many fans and critics alike wondering if it signals a return to the raw, heartfelt sound of his Limestone Kid days.

Upon it's release today (June 27) the Holler staff have come together to share their first impressions of the record, digging into the highs, the lows, and everything in between:

Produced by heavyweights Frank Liddell and Eric Masse, Parker McCollum’s self titled fifth album finds the Texas native steadying the creative voice that he began to develop on 2023’s Never Enough.

With a slew of co-writes, the fourteen song collection further exposes the mind of a burgeoning storyteller who has not merely exposed himself to the catalogs of many Texas Country and Red Dirt greats, but has taken that listening to heart in expanding his style and approach.

The chill-inducing lyrical excavation of opener ‘My Blue’ demonstrates McCollum's willingness to leave no stone unturned when digging for the raw truth. Similarly, on the spirited ‘Solid Gold Country’, he openly laments his uneasiness of being an old soul in an unforgiving modern world.

While his songwriting offers the developing thoughts of the man behind the neon lights, it is his selection of both Danny O’Keefe and Chris Knight covers that reveal his beating heart. McCollum is clearly a devoted student of country music’s history, working tirelessly to rise to the current head of the class by honing his skills as a storyteller.

7.0 / 10

The album opens strong with ‘My Blue’, a beautifully tragic story that feels like a proper country song, while ‘Big Sky’ explores the jovial narrative of a travelling soul but lacks depth.

‘Good Time Charlie’s Got The Blues’ obviously already had the hallmarks of a classic country song – the title, the harmonica, the whistling – but Parker's version makes for a campfire cornerstone on the album and is blessed with Cody Johnson’s vocals, too.

The already released single, ‘What Kinda Man’, was undoubtedly going to be a highlight, and on the album its a feel good five minutes amidst an array of slow, sad songs.

However, the album wraps up with the hauntingly honest ‘Enough Rope’ and ‘My Worst Enemy’, marking a triumphant book end to an OK record.

There’s certainly a couple of duds - I’m not entirely sure why ‘New York Is On Fire’ and ‘Sunny Days’ feel anything but feel good - but the majority of ‘Parker McCollum’ hits the theme of sad, bluesy country. The lyrics are good, the melodies sway, but something – and I’m unsure what – is missing.

6.5 / 10

Parker McCollum’s self-titled album arrives like a long drive with the windows down - crisp in sound, easy on the ears, and stepped in a nostalgia that flickers with memories of early twenties heartbreaks and homegrown values.

His vocals, often stretched with strained sincerity, ground each track in raw emotion, though the smooth production polishes the edges just enough. There’s a noticeable evolution here; more introspective than expected, especially with tracks like 'My Worst Enemy', where McCollum wrestles with the man in the mirror.

'Good Times Charlie’s Got the Blues', featuring Cody Johnson, strays from his norm into folky terrain, offering a pleasantly dusty, back-porch reprieve. 'Sunny Days' glows with childhood warmth and Texan pride, while 'Come On' introduces female harmonies that break the starkness of his solitary voice.

The album balances radio-ready polish with pockets of vulnerability. While some moments feel safe or stretched thin vocally, others surprise with folk-infused detours and lyrical weight.

Overall, it's a record that doesn’t shout and seems to reveal more with each listen. It feels like a refinement, not reinvention - a quiet evolution of a man growing into his own sound.

6.7 / 10

The main problem that runs across the album is some strange production choices and tracks being overcrowded. A string outro on 'Solid Country Gold' comes out of nowhere and for no good reason. Overproduced female backing vocals on 'Killin Me' feel like they've been unnecessarily tagged onto an otherwise good track. The instrumental opening on 'New York Is On Fire' is overbearing. It’s difficult to find what it is that McCollum’s aiming for within all the mess.

Towards the end of the album is where his real potential lies. The stripped back 'Enough Rope' is stunning - “most of the time I just walk the line / wherever it goes, ‘cause you can’t hang yourself if you ain’t got enough rope” is shocking in its difference to the rest of the album, and is the emotional standout by far.

'Permanent Headphones' and 'Hope That I’m Enough' are reminiscent of 'Born and Raised / Paradise Valley' era John Mayer in lyrics, vocal delivery and bluesy guitar work - so it's no wonder they’re my favourite tracks.

Overall though, the overproduction means the supposed vulnerability of Parker’s self-titled gets lost in too many backing vocals, unnecessarily heavy guitar solos and strangely placed harmonicas.

6.0 / 10

All the talk surrounding Parker McCollum’s self-titled album centered on an anticipated return to his Limestone Kid era. But that kind of expectation can be dangerous for a new project. It sets people up to chase nostalgia when the artist might just want to move forward.

If you ignore the fixation on him stripping back his sound to feel more “authentic,” there’s a clear focus on songwriting. Still, that comes at the cost of polish and a sense of flair—elements he arguably needs to hit a consistent standard across the board.

That may sound harsh, but the pitchy vocal takes are hard to ignore. You might want his Noel Gallagher-esque delivery to feel raw and unpolished, but there's a difference between authenticity and simply missing the mark. Killin' Me is borderline painful in its whiny ache, made worse by being sandwiched between the far more enjoyable 'Solid Country Gold' and 'Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues'.

Those last two songs and 'Hope That I'm Enough' hit hardest, showing some of the album’s strongest songwriting. And it’s not just them. You can forgive 'Permanent Headphones' for sounding a little sullen—it’s a track he’s sat on for over a decade. “We're creeping out late just to go insane / Making time fly right through our brains / Change in season is a change in my soul / Backroads racing through my permanent headphones.” It’s poetic, whimsical, and slightly cryptic—something Parker doesn’t give himself enough credit for.

As McCollum repeats the refrain of 'New York Is On Fire' over a cinematic, atmospheric orchestra, you get a glimpse of where he could take his sound. There’s potential for something substantial from the Texan—we're just not quite there yet.

6.0 / 10

Overall Rating - 6.4 / 10

For more on Parker McCollum, see below: