Cowboy Carter was nothing short of a revelation. Yet, Beyonce’s long overdue Grammy Album of the Year award was met with an immediate wave of online backlash, claiming that other nominees were snubbed, and even going so far as to say that Beyonce bought the award. I have no reservation in sharing that I meet the mob of sore losers with rolled eyes and scoffs, especially when dismissal of the genre-bending album is inevitably accompanied by the admission that its champion has never actually listened to the album. Cowboy Carter is utterly transcendent, and opposition to its victory is emblematic not only of pervasive gatekeeping but of racialized perceptions of artistic legitimacy.
Country music’s perceived ties with white Southern culture have long relied on the systematic erasure of the deep Black roots it has grown from. The genre’s origins can be traced to the fusion of African American blues, spirituals, and work songs with European folk traditions. The banjo, a staple of early country music, is itself an African instrument brought to the Americas through the transatlantic slave trade. However, as country music became commercialized in the early 20th century, the industry drew a racial line between what it classified as “hillbilly music,” which was marketed to white listeners, and “race records,” which were segregated for Black artists, despite both drawing from the same musical traditions.
Black musicians like DeFord Bailey—an innovative harmonica player—were crucial to shaping the genre during the early days of the Grand Ole Opry, one of the most influential institutions in country music. Yet Bailey was eventually dismissed from the Opry in 1941 and was largely erased from mainstream country history. Linda Martell, whose voice Beyonce features in Cowboy Carter, was the first Black female solo artist to perform at the Grand Ole Opry in 1969. Originally a soul and R&B singer, Martell transitioned to country when producer Shelby Singleton signed her to Plantation Records—a label notorious for exploiting racial novelty for its marketing. Her hit single “Color Him Father” reached No. 22 on the Billboard country charts, but amidst her great success, she was often met with hostility from audiences and industry executives alike. Ultimately, Martell’s career was cut short by racism within the Country music industry.
Decades of industry practices and cultural revisionism have severed Black artists from country music, and in Cowboy Carter, Beyonce presents a stunning reclamation.
Beyonce is no stranger to the industry’s exclusionary legacy. She stated that Cowboy Carter was “born out of an experience that [she] had years ago where [she] did not feel welcomed… and it was very clear that [she] wasn’t.” She is likely referencing her 2016 performance at the Country Music Association Awards, in which she and The Chicks performed Lemonade’s “Daddy Lessons” together. During the performance, and even after its conclusion, the crowd’s hostile reaction, from ill-concealed sneers to explicit vitriol, reaffirmed country music’s resistance to Black artists within the genre. Decades of industry practices and cultural revisionism have severed Black artists from country music, and in Cowboy Carter, Beyonce presents a stunning reclamation.
The album’s opening track, “Ameriican Requiem,” immediately ushers in a proud declaration of Black artists’ place in the country music space. In it, she sings, “They used to say I spoke, ‘Too country’/ And the rejection came, said I wasn’t, ‘Country ‘nough’”, referencing her personal experience of exclusion from the genre, despite her bona fide Texas origins. Beyonce will no longer be dismissed. “Can you hear me?” she asks, as she asserts her voice’s place within country music. Cowboy Carter also features a cover of “Blackbird,” originally written in 1968 by Paul McCartney as a hopeful anthem for the Civil Rights Movement. In Beyonce’s cover of country legend Dolly Parton’s “Jolene,” she changes lyrics to speak to her Black southern roots. She leaves the lyrics of “Blackbird” intact, instead adding Black country collaborators Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy, and Reyna Roberts to the track, raising their voices within the genre. “Spaghetti” features the voice of Black country trailblazer Linda Martell laughing, “Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they?” to usher in a blend of country and rap that features Shaboozey, a Nigerian-American artist. Cowboy Carter is a revolution that brings country music’s long-suppressed stories and voices to light.
The album’s closer, “Amen,” explicitly reminds listeners that the United States was built by enslaved Black people: “This house was built with blood and bones/And it crumbled,” she sings. Over the course of the album’s sprawling 27 songs, Beyonce not only cements her place within country music but expands it. In “Amen,” she closes this act with the question, “Tell me, can you hear me now?”
Cowboy Carter is both a confrontation and a celebration—an assertion of belonging in a space that has too often sought to sideline.
Cowboy Carter is both a confrontation and a celebration—an assertion of belonging in a space that has too often sought to sideline. It is a criticism that extends beyond music, bringing listeners face-to-face with both the history and culture of the United States. Americans are currently witnessing sweeping book bans and attacks on DEI—direct efforts to erase Black voices and contributions—Cowboy Carter’s win was nothing short of a triumph. It was, without a doubt, the album of the year.
