Heartbreak Express: Coleman O’Neal’s Country Cry Fest That’ll Mess You Up (In a Good Way)
Alright, buckle up, y’all. Coleman O’Neal’s Heartbreak Express is here to wring your emotions out like a soggy dishrag. This album—courtesy of Great Record Co.—isn’t just country music; it’s more like a therapy session with twangy guitars and steel drums crying in the background. If you’re into raw feels wrapped in Folk, World, & Country vibes, this one’s for you.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck to my brain like gum on a hot sidewalk: “Six Rooms Of Sadness” and the title track, “Heartbreak Express.” Spoiler alert: they’re both gut-punches disguised as songs.
First off, “Six Rooms Of Sadness.” Man, if heartache had an address, this song would be its eviction notice. It starts slow, almost shy, but then BAM—it hits you harder than bad news on a Monday morning. The lyrics? Devastatingly simple yet razor-sharp. Each "room" seems to represent a different flavor of sorrow, like emotional IKEA furniture you didn’t ask for but now can’t return. By the time the chorus kicks in, you might find yourself staring at old texts or wondering why your dog suddenly won’t look you in the eye. Damn.
Then there’s “Heartbreak Express,” which feels less like a train ride and more like being dragged behind one. O’Neal sings about love gone wrong with such gravelly conviction, it’s like he’s lived every second of it—and probably written some of it while nursing whiskey at 3 a.m. There’s no sugarcoating here, just straight-up lyrical truth bombs dropped over a melody so catchy, it almost tricks you into thinking everything’s fine. Almost.
What makes these tracks unforgettable isn’t just their storytelling—it’s how they make you feel. Like, really feel. You know those moments when you’re driving alone and a song comes on that perfectly sums up all your regrets? Yeah, that’s this album. Only difference is, instead of wallowing too hard, you kinda wanna laugh because life’s messy AF anyway.
So yeah, Heartbreak Express is basically a breakup letter set to music—but don’t let that scare you off. It’s real, it’s raw, and honestly? It’s refreshing. Listening to this record is like having a deep conversation with someone who gets it—someone who knows heartbreak doesn’t always rhyme with redemption.
Fun fact: after finishing the album, I spent twenty minutes Googling whether Coleman O’Neal moonlights as a poet. Turns out, nope—he’s just THAT good at turning pain into art. Or maybe he’s just really bad at relationships. Either way, hats off to him.
In conclusion: listen to this album if you want to cry-laugh-cry again, possibly all within ten minutes. And hey, if nothing else, it’ll remind you that even the saddest stories sound better with a fiddle solo. Now go stream it before your ex does—they need the closure more than you do.
