Discussing Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter and its impact on my listening habits.
Introduction
It's been four months since Beyoncé released the highly anticipated follow-up to her ground-breaking Renaissance album and what a feast it's been. Cowboy Carter has already cemented its place as one of the most culturally significant albums of 2024. It has sparked debate around the history of segregation and discrimination in the country music genre, as well as the power and the hyper-capitalist nature of the Beyoncé brand/image. For our purposes here, I will be discussing the former, specifically as it relates to my experiences as a Black, queer music lover.
For me, Cowboy Carter continued a learning tradition from Renaissance, which is the art of exposing myself to the historical-cultural context of the music I engage with. In a previous post, I discussed the impact of Beyoncé's Renaissance on my outlook in life and how it coincided with my discovery and subsequent appreciation of Ballroom culture. Through that album, which would not exist without the contributions of Black LGBTQ+ artists in the house/EDM genre, I began to cultivate a sense of self-confidence and emerge resilient in an Anti-Homosexuality Act Uganda.
Now with Cowboy Carter, I have immersed myself in country music's roots and its complicated history with race and queerness. I've found myself angered by the way the American music industry mistreated and continues to mistreat artists of color, specifically Black women and Black LGBTQ+ artists. But then on the flipside of that, I have become more mindful of and inspired by the contemporary Black and queer artists who are changing the way people perceive country music today.
This is the story of how Beyoncé's reclamation of her country roots revolutionized how I engage with country music.
Beyoncé's "Cowboy Carter": Start of a Revolution or a Sign of the Times?
"From the cowboys and clovers, and the rodeo circus
I came here for a reason, but I don't know the purpose
It's all under the surface"
Beyoncé and Willie Jones, "Just For Fun", Cowboy Carter (2024)
In preparation for this post, I was pleasantly surprised when I remembered that my fascination with country music began long before Beyoncé dropped Cowboy Carter's lead single, "Texas Hold 'Em". I grew up watching Hannah Montana on Disney Channel. She was the millennial country-pop queen before the likes of Taylor Swift stepped onto the scene. I remember her being my biggest idol, so much so that I created my own alter ego after her named Jenny Montana (don't judge me I was 7 years old).
Growing up Christian, much of the contemporary gospel music I listened to came from artists like the Texas-bred Chris Tomlin, whose country-sounding worship songs like "Lord, I Need You" and "Good, Good Father" transcended me to another realm. So it only makes sense years later that I have a deep connection with the genre. Still, even as a little boy, I noticed that there weren't any artists that looked like me making that kind of music.
Fast-forward to now and it appears as though we might be living through a country revolution of sorts with the reign of Cowboy Carter upon us. But even before Beyoncé committed herself to making a country album, she already showed us she could pull off a country song with 2016's bluegrass-country jam, "Daddy Lessons". Before that, Black country pioneers such as Tracy Chapman and Charley Pride had already seen some success in the country music scene. So what's the big deal then?
Why is it in 2024, a country radio station refused to play "Texas Hold 'Em" after a fan requested the song because Beyoncé isn't a "country artist" despite having released 3 country songs at the time ("Daddy Lessons", "Texas Hold Em" and "16 Carriages")? How is Beyoncé the 1st Black woman to have a number-one country album in Billboard history with Cowboy Carter?
It clearly cannot be that country music isn't a popular music genre among music listeners. It was one of 2023's fastest-growing streaming genres in the US alone. Indeed, country music seems to be going through a renaissance of its own with multiple major artists such as Lana Del Ray and Post Malone also releasing country albums this year. In retrospect, 2019's Old Town Road by Balck queer icon, Lil Nas X, which broke records and became one of the biggest songs in history, was only the beginning of country music's revival.
And yet, the conversations around race, gender, and sexuality in country music don't seem to have evolved much since the 1960s. Most people today associate country music and the cowboy aesthetic with the mythic Wild West and White America when that is only one fraction of the larger picture. Thus, the narrative of Beyoncé reclaiming her roots is of major significance, especially considering the history she's pulling from.
Black History in Country Music
"Can you hear me?
Or do you fear me?"
-Beyoncé, "Ameriican Requiem", Cowboy Carter (2024)
At this point, there is no shortage of online articles detailing the historical references in the Cowboy Carter album so I won't bombard you with another history lesson, but I will briefly discuss how learning about the erasure and suppression of Black voices in the country music genre sparked a flame of curiosity in me.
(If you wish to learn more about the historical references in Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter in-depth, the Black Music Project's online exhibition on Beyoncé and Country is a good place to start!)
It all started when I listened to Switched on Pop's podcast on Beyoncé's Country, where I discovered the Black musical traditions of clawhammer style (on the banjo) and Chaingang music- a style of music originating from Black prison workers- referenced on the album's lead singles "Texas Hold Em" and "16 Carriages" respectively. I was blown away by how subtle these references were while simultaneously channeling hundreds of years of history and expression.
On first listen, "Texas Hold Em" was a fun country-pop song I could dance to and throw away all my cares. After learning about the African roots of the banjo, the significance of how it is played, and by whom (Rhiannon Giddens- look her up), I fell into a country music Black-hole:
I decided to educate myself on Black country pioneers and Tracy Chapman was the first on my list. I have since fallen in love with her entire discography. Her 1995 album, New Beginning, has become one of my favorite listening experiences in 2024. The album is country but also mixes psychedelic rock elements throughout. Chapman's honest, vulnerable lyrics are what drew me in. I knew of her, but I had never given her music the chance and now that I have, she's become one of my Black country icons.
I am currently learning all about Linda Martell, who makes several appearances on Cowboy Carter and is the first commercially successful Black female artist in country music. The story of how she was heckled on stage, endured racist slurs during many of her performances in the 1960s and 70s, and blackballed after the release of her only solo album to date, Color Me Country (1970), breaks my heart. What's even more heartbreaking is that I can see parallels between how she and current Black artists are treated in the country genre except nowadays, people won't say slurs at you to your face, but online? It's the wild west of bigotry out there.
Beyond these two Black country pioneers, my newfound country curiosity has exposed me to more Black/queer artists.
Impact on Listening Habits: Seeking Out Black and/or Queer Representation in Country Music and Beyond
"Genres are a funny little concept, aren't they?
Yes, they are...
In theory, they have a simple definition that's easy to understand
But in practice, well, some may feel confined."
-Linda Martell, "Spaghettii", Cowboy Carter (2024)
Before the advent of Cowboy Carter, seeking out Black country artists wasn't something I paid much attention to. In 2023, I happened to stumble upon Joy Oladokun's in defense of my own happiness album which was a mix of folk, country, gospel, and RnB musical traditions. Although I'm glad it happened, it was a happy accident and not as though I was actively searching for her music.
Even when Lil Nas X's Old Town Road came out in 2019, I wasn't searching for it. I liked the song, but it didn't hit me at the time that this was a Black, queer artist making headway in a traditionally segregated genre.
Now that Cowboy Carter has opened my eyes to think more critically about the way I listen to music, I've seen a rise in the amount of Black and queer country artists I listen to, mainly because now I feel incentivized to seek them out and support their work. I do so because 1) I understand what it feels like to be a creator from a marginalized community trying to make it in a hostile industry and 2) It gives me euphoria to see some of my experiences validated in the music I consume.
In the past few months, I've fallen in love with musical works by artists like Brittney Spencer, Reyna Roberts, and Shaboozey- all contemporary Black country musicians who also feature on Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter. Spencer and Roberts' debut albums, My Stupid Life and Bad Girl Bible: Vol. 1 respectively, have become staples in my weekly music rotation. Roberts' track, "Don't Waste A Prayer" actually makes an appearance in my Pride 2024 playlist which you can check out here.
Another Cowboy Carter collaborator who has become a favorite of mine is Ryan Beatty. I'd heard of him before, but I was even more inclined to give his music a try when I discovered he had co-written some of my favorite tracks on the album such as "II Hands II Heaven" and "Protector". So I decided to check out his debut album, Boy In Jeans, released in 2018. The album can be described as a quintessential "coming of age", pop classic following a young male as he explores his sexuality. Needless to say, I felt right at home listening to this masterpiece.
Beyond Cowboy Carter collaborators, artists such as Christ Housman, Orville Peck, Denitia, and Chapel Hart have been appearing more frequently in my Spotify daily mixes and I've even included some of their songs on my ever-expanding "The Renaissance Way" playlist. And speaking of "The Renaissance Way", I find it poignant that my journey of music discovery began as an act of resistance against homophobia and repression.
Beyoncé's Renaissance and house music more broadly, became a conduit of unlimited Black, queer joy at a time when I needed it most. Queer-affirming house music was my sacred escape from isolation and anxiety. Now to include country music into that framework of music as a form of resistance against suppression, I feel inspired to create content that challenges people to be open-minded. Knowing that there is a rich heritage of resistance and self-expression behind the music that I listen to, gives me the power to actualize my own liberation.
When I feel consumed by the weight of the world, I often turn to music to help me feel through my emotions. Sometimes I sing along, sometimes I dance and sometimes I just curl up on my bed and cry. Sometimes I just sit and listen, and I can feel the music penetrating my spirit, giving me the courage to heal and to express myself freely- flaws and all.
Are you a fan of country music? How has country music impacted you? Let me know in the comments below!
The best way to support me is to subscribe to SENTI-ENT's monthly newsletter and share the posts you like with your friends and family.
Subscribing to SENTI-ENT's newsletter means you'll never miss out on when I post and you'll be the first to know what's going on in my life or when I announce something big.
Thanks for reading!
Recommended Viewing:
Check out this video from YouTube video creator, Victoria Shell, for an entertaining overview of country music history and the suppression of Black and Queer artists.
Comments