‘Blue’ Introduced LeAnn Rimes to the World 25 Years Ago

Listening to country music was a no-no amongst my social set. Southside Chicago in the mid-1990s was dominated by hip-hop and the vestiges of grunge that peaked in the decade’s middle. To keep up, I listened to whatever was playing on pop, top 40, or urban radio (which meant that I was able to share my enthusiasm for “California Love” by 2Pac, “Tha Crossroads” by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, and “C’mon N’ Ride It (The Train)” by Quad City DJ’s). If someone confessed love of country music, they’d suitably be shamed as an outsider.

Country music was seen as whiny hick music about pickup trucks, dead dogs, and the South. At home, though, in the privacy of my bedroom, I would put on my headphones and pop Dolly Parton, Tammy Wynette, or Loretta Lynn in my Discman and listen to those sterling, brilliant, and beautiful women sing songs about heartache, childhood, poverty, and feminism. One of my biggest musical heroes was Patsy Cline (a love affair I inherited from my mother, who was obsessed with Patsy). I loved her large voice—an aggrieved boom that would blast out of my cheap $10 headphones.

Unsurprisingly, when I first heard LeAnn Rimes’ cover of Bill Mack’s “Blue” (which was also the opening title track from her 1996 debut LP), I thought that I was hearing the reincarnation of Patsy Cline. Released two days after my 15th birthday, I first heard the tune on the radio and immediately had to stop what I was doing (which was probably doodling in a journal). It was the kind of song that knocks you on your ass; at once, contemporary and traditional, it was a weird hybrid of honky-tonk and country-pop (Patsy Cline’s forte). And then there was that voice. She starts with the long and winding near-yodel of “Blue / Oh, so lonesome for you.”

She stretches the word “blue”—normally just a brief one-syllable word—into a ten-second aria. The track has a shuffling swing that sounded like it was recorded live at some roadside bar by a girl performing in front of a band to a crowd of slow-dancing couples. What made the record even more incredible was that the heavy, mature, and knowing voice on it belonged to a 14-year-old kid. Though LeAnn Rimes would record for the next 25 years, nothing that came next would generate the same kapow! as her first album.

Rimes’ success story is feathered with the clichés of a talented and precocious child star. Born in Mississippi, she moved to Texas with her family when she was a child, subsequently performing in local shows and regional productions of musical theatre. Like many pop stars in the mid-1990s, the eight-year-old Rimes aimed for childhood stardom on the proto-American Idol competition show Star Search. That almost launched other pop superstars like Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and Destiny’s Child. On Star Search, a pint-sized Rimes appears in a party dress as belts out a beguiling version of Marty Robbins’ 1961 hit, “Don’t Worry”.

Even at eight, she had mastered that languid, yearning keen that she would employ to marvelous effect on “Blue” (at one point, she hits a sweet note that earns spontaneous applause from the audience). Her competition was a young male country singer named Levi Garrett. Admittedly, when Star Search host Ed McMahon interviews Garrett and Rimes after their performances, the show takes on the kind of creepiness that happens whenever children are placed in an adult environment like show business.

First, Garrett offers an inadvertently condescending compliment—he declares her the best “little girl singer—which McMahon then jokes is Garrett’s attempt to flirt with Rimes. Then, Rimes takes over the interview to talk about a duet she performed with Garrett. She has all the hallmarks of an over-rehearsed and overworked child performer who exudes cloying sweetness and calculated cuteness. It’s a huge juxtaposition from the natural and intuitive performer she was just a few moments earlier (when she commanded the stage).  

Thankfully, that cynical precociousness is missing from Rimes’ appealingly across-the-board country-pop debut record. Though she recorded an indie record in 1994 (All That), Blue was her major-label introduction. It was released on Curb Records, which was home to country artists like the Osmonds, Rodney Atkins, the Judds, and Lee Greenwood—and it served as the proper way for the world to be introduced to such a dynamo.

The impact of the title track, in particular, leans into the popular story of a young female country singer hitting it big with a mature tune. Previously, we’d seen 12-year-old Brenda Lee hit it big with “Dynamite”, 13-year-old Tanya Tucker land with “Delta Dawn”, and a 14-year-old Marie Osmond goes to number one with “Paper Roses”. Likewise, Rimes’ second version of “Blue” (after first recording it for All That) was a huge hit, peaking at #26 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #10 on the Billboard Country Chart. It even netted Rimes a 1996 Grammy for Best Female Country Vocal Performance. (Similarly, the album won Rimes a Grammy for Best New Artist.)

So, does the rest of Blue hold up as well as its title track? Of course not, but it’s still a solid record that shows many different sides of Rimes (a deliberate way to market her to various radio formats). For example, in addition to the retro-sounding “Blue”, traditionalists also get the catchy “My Baby”, which is the kind of fun, sassy, and growling mid-’90s neo-traditional country song that was all the rage on country radio. Because country music—particularly by female singers—is largely about the bruising loss of love, “I’ll Get Even with You” is a sort of barroom, slow lumbering song, whereas “Cattle Call” features some nifty yodeling from Rimes.

Even if neo-traditional country was popular in the mid-1990s, polished country-pop was dominant as well. Although Blue celebrates the old-fashioned sounds of Kitty Wells and Lynn Anderson, it also contains enough crossover material to appeal to listeners who may not consider themselves country music fans. Don’t forget that this was the era of the juggernaut Shania Twain, a singer who could best be described as “country-adjacent”. And as proven with Rimes’ later material, as comfortable as she was with the old-fashioned material, she excelled with a shinier, glossier sound.

“One Way Ticket (Because I Can)” is a great example of mid-1990s country-pop. It hits so many markers of the genre that it dips into cliché, yet Rimes performs it with brisk professionalism (again, at only 14 years old). Because her best asset was her big voice, a growing and undulated pop ballad like “Honestly” was the kind of indulgent showboating vehicle required for any contemporary pop record of the era. (It’s telling that even though she cited inspiration from expected folks like Wynonna Judd or Reba McEntire, she also name-checked Barbra Streisand as an influence.)

When released in July of 1996, Blue climbed all the way to number three on the Billboard album charts, selling over six million copies. The success of Blue would lead to a long and fruitful career of more platinum and gold-selling records; more than ten top ten country hits (four of which hit the pop top 20); and over 30 million records sold in Rimes’ career. Thus, the fresh-faced young kid of “Blue” grew up into a glamourous country-pop diva who flirted with different genres and sounds in her music (such as rock, R&B, and dance-pop). Yet, throughout her career, that resonant and resounding voice remains, allowing Blue to endure as a modern classic.