About the song
When two of country music’s most iconic figures, **George Strait** and **Alan Jackson**, join forces, you know you’re in for a treat. Their duet, **”Murder on Music Row”**, is a prime example of their combined talents. This song is a nostalgic journey through the heart of Nashville, the epicenter of the country music industry.
**”Murder on Music Row”** isn’t just a song; it’s a storytelling masterpiece. The lyrics paint a vivid picture of a bygone era in country music, when artists were more focused on creating authentic music than chasing fleeting trends. Strait and Jackson’s harmonies are as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, and their vocals complement each other perfectly. The melody is both catchy and heartfelt, making it easy to sing along.
The title, **”Murder on Music Row”**, is a clever play on words. It suggests that something is being lost in today’s country music scene, a sense of tradition and authenticity. The “murder” refers to the decline of classic country sound and the rise of more commercialized pop-country. However, the song is not entirely pessimistic. It also serves as
Video
Lyrics
Nobody saw him running from sixteenth avenue.
They never found the fingerprint or the weapon that was used.
But someone killed country music, cut out its heart and soul.
They got away with murder down on music row.
The almighty dollar and the lust for worldwide fame
Slowly killed tradition and for that someone should hang
(oh, you tell them Alan).
They all say not guilty, but the evidence will show
That murder was committed down on music row.
For the steel guitars no longer cry and fiddles barely play,
But drums and rock ‘n roll guitars are mixed up in your face.
Old Hank wouldn’t have a chance on today’s radio
Since they committed murder down on music row.
They thought no one would miss it, once it was dead and gone
They said no one would buy them old drinking and cheating songs (I’ll still buy’em)
Well there ain’t no justice in it and the hard facts are cold
Murder’s been committed down on music row.
Oh, the steel guitars no longer cry and you can’t hear fiddles play
With drums and rock ‘n roll guitars mixed right up in your face
Why, the Hag, he wouldn’t have a chance on today’s radio
Since they committed murder down on music row
Why, they even tell the Possum to pack up and go back home
There’s been an awful murder down on music row.
