Our Most Memorable Musical Moments of 2024

Music is all about moments. It’s a fact we tend to lose sight of, forest for the trees, despite the fact that music can only exist in this, the present moment. Each pluck of a string, each breath of a voice, each lick, hook, and improvisation – no matter how practiced or free – is but a mere moment.

As we all rewind the calendar year to relive the last twelve months and all of the turmoils and triumphs they held, we asked our BGS contributors to reflect on which musical moments they experienced this year that were most memorable, most moving, and most transportive. Which musical moment would you return to, if you could? Which musical moment returns to you, again and again and again?

Our year-end lists are not intended to center on superlatives or “bests;” we don’t so much care about what “should” or “shouldn’t” land in one of these collections. Curation of this sort is never truly objective, so why pretend it is? Instead, we hope our writers and our readers will be able to demonstrate and appreciate that music is never about measuring or comparison, metrics or accomplishments, accolades or awards. Music is about moments – and about wholly inhabiting those moments, together.

Below, our first-rate writers, thinkers, and contributors share the musical moments from 2024 that impacted them most. From Beyoncé galloping through our hearts with Cowboy Carter to intimate, people-first festivals like Laurel Cove Music Festival in Kentucky. There’s also music from harlequin creators like American Patchwork Quartet, Kaia Kater, and Rhiannon Giddens alongside memories of the late Dexter Romweber and the strength of mutual aid and community solidarity in Western North Carolina post-Hurricane Helene.

2024 held so many intricate, ineffable, one-of-a-kind moments, good, bad, ugly, and gorgeous. We hope you’ll take a second to recall your own most memorable musical moments of the year while we share ours – and while we all look forward to many more in the year to come.

August 20, 2024 – Chris Acker and Dylan Earl at Folk i Storgata, Oslo, Norway

Photo by Dana Yewbank taken at a show by Chris Acker and Dylan Earl at Folk i Storgata in Norway.

While this doesn’t quite fit any stereotypes about Scandinavia, black metal, or Viking-inspired neo-folk, Norway has a thriving Americana music scene that welcomes and celebrates even lesser-known American folk and country artists. Chris Acker and Dylan Earl are two of these undersung artists, both represented by Nick Shoulders’ record label Gar Hole Records out of Arkansas. This past summer, Acker, Earl, and I all coincidentally ended up in Oslo, Norway, at the same time, where the pair put on an intimate, inspiring, and tightly-packed show for a crowd of about 30 people in a tiny bar with pink walls. They bantered with the audience, backed each other up on a few songs, and even spontaneously formed an unrehearsed superband with the bar owner and their Norwegian opener – and they were damn good. Acker and Earl are both deeply thoughtful musicians who use their power and presence as men on stage to question the status quo of “good ol’ boy” country and stoic male musicality. Their candidness and subversive humor drew the room together that night with a sense of camaraderie, safety, and concentrated joy. – Dana Yewbank

Act Now! A Paperface Zine Benefit Tape for the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund

A harrowing statistic from the UN agency for Palestinian refugees (UNRWA) reports that as of March 2024, the number of children killed in Gaza over a mere five months (October 2023 to February 2024) surpassed the number of children killed in global conflict over the four years prior, combined (2019-2022). As of December 2024, we are a year and two months into the ceaseless genocide being waged against the innocent civilians of Palestine and the horrific violence only continues.

I salute everyone who has waged resistance against genocidal powers, be it contacting senators, galvanizing communities to action, participating in rallies, or, in this instance, artists and musicians who have used their platform as an act of protest. Paperface Zine, a blog that writes and interviews an eclectic mix of underground artists, spearheaded this collection of tunes in an effort to express solidarity with Palestine and raise funds towards the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. This Benefit Tape is a shining example of how most any skill can be mobilized to support greater communities; creativity and care forever go hand in hand. – Oriana Mack

American Patchwork Quartet, American Patchwork Quartet

American Patchwork Quartet have pieced together one of the best albums this year. Don’t take our word for it: they’ve been nominated for a GRAMMY for Best Folk Album. That’s the moment we want to celebrate. With all due respect to the other nominees, it’s exciting to see a brand new project get recognized so quickly – particularly one that colors outside the lines like APQ. The quartet add a number of global influences to traditional American songs: a guitar solo here, a sitar there, and a fine sprinkling of tabla make the quartet live up to their name. Now, especially, we need statements that American traditions were born of a tapestry of European, African, and Indigenous cultures that continue to be built upon by everyone who chooses to make this place a part of their own quilts. – Rachel Cholst

September 26, 2024 – Asheville, North Carolina’s Music Scene and Hurricane Helene

On the night of September 26, Hurricane Helene ravaged Western North Carolina with unprecedented rainfall and flooding. What resulted was a tight-knit area completely decimated and utterly distraught by the destruction of numerous communities. The current death toll for the state sits at 103, with many others still missing.

Beyond the cultural, economic, and unbelievable physical devastation to Asheville and surrounding towns, the city’s vibrant and world-renowned live music scene was brought to its knees – a radio silence that lasted several weeks, with numerous unknowns lingering for certain storied venues. But, with great resolve and a steadfast attitude of helping your friends and neighbors, the vast music community in Asheville and greater WNC came together with countless benefit concerts and fundraiser album compilations (Caverns of Gold, Cardinals at the Window) — an effort that remains at the forefront of the region’s recovery that will take years, if not decades, to return to normalcy. – Garret K. Woodward

Beyoncé, “Jolene”

Country music is for everyone and there is something fascinating about an album which ends up in the territory between categories. Beyoncé is a great singer, and has been flirting with country for a very long time; she has the chops to sing “Jolene” better than Dolly. So, when she sings that she’s “still a Creole banjee bitch from Louisiana,” she is making a series of arguments: that country exists in response songs; that the other woman should be given the mic; that the landscape mirrors the territory; and that the gatekeepers should be torn down, like the walls of Jericho. – Steacy Easton

February 4, 2024 – Tracy Chapman & Luke Combs, “Fast Car”

Luke Combs released his version of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” in 2023, but it was his performance with Chapman on the 2024 GRAMMY Awards primetime telecast that rocketed the song from country radio back into the mainstream zeitgeist. Where Combs’s recording highlighted the song’s working-class vibes, seeing him perform it alongside its (Black, queer, female) writer gave the song’s legacy even greater heft. “Fast Car” was always a song about women carrying more weight than any single human can; about the urgent, nagging desire to flee toxic cycles; about how fleeting freedom can sometimes feel. For better or worse, all these things became emblematic of 2024. – Kim Ruehl

Rhiannon Giddens

You would be hard-pressed to cite anyone in any genre who had more memorable musical moments in 2024 than the superb vocalist, composer, and instrumentalist Rhiannon Giddens. Her writing brilliance was showcased through the Silkroad Ensemble group and project. Her arrangements of folk songs were part of their landmark American Railroad tour program along with commissioned pieces from jazz artist Cécile McLorin Salvant and film composer Michael Abels, as well as fellow Silkroad artists Wu Man, Layale Chaker, Haruka Fujii, and Maeve Gilchrist. Giddens was featured on banjo and viola on the hit single “Texas Hold ‘Em,” part of Beyoncé’s huge Cowboy Carter LP. Giddens added another GRAMMY nomination for Best American Roots Performance with “The Ballad of Sally Anne” from the excellent compilation My Black Country: The Songs of Alice Randall, too. Hard to believe there’s any ground left to cover for the MacArthur Genius and Pulitzer Prize winner, but Rhiannon Giddens continues to stun and surprise audiences with everything she does. – Ron Wynn

November 14, 2024 – Zachariah Hickman’s Power Outage Party! at Club Passim, Cambridge, MA

Not sure how bassist and music director Zachariah Hickman (Josh Ritter, Ray Lamontagne, Barnstar!) pulls off his many acts of mischief, but the Power Outage Party! shows are the most creative, beautiful, and emotional musical experiences around. Presented in mid-November by Club Passim, the shows featured a collective of musicians (including members of Della Mae and Session Americana) and guests (this year including Taylor Ashton, Mark Erelli, and Kris Delmhorst) performing without any power in the historic 100-seat club in Harvard Square. The band is lit with camping lanterns and tea lights. The audience is shoehorned in so tight (I was nearly sitting on the cello players’ lap) that you can’t help but feel a part of a very special community. Every time I go, I carry the experience and inspiration with me as we all work through the darkest part of the year. – Cindy Howes

February 24, 2024 – Kaia Kater, “In Montreal” at Folk Alliance International

One of my favorite and most memorable musical moments of the year occurred at Folk Alliance International, where Kaia Kater and her band performed tracks from her brand new album, Strange Medicine, at BGS’s private showcase. In a small hotel room with a handful of audience members, Kater began “In Montreal” with her looping, cyclical, trance-like clawhammer banjo groove. I was immediately transported, immediately grounded, gently – and forcibly – brought to the moment. I still experience the same visceral sensation each time I hear this track begin, the old-time banjo hook leaving and rejoining the beat deliciously, sketching out an expansive pocket. This night, in cold Kansas City, Kater was joined by flutist Amber Underwood (AKA Flutienastiness), who was even further transportive and dreamy in her interpretations of the track. It was a transcendent song, a daring banjo-flute dialogue, a mind-blowing mini set, and a perfect harbinger of what Strange Medicine would cure and balm. – Justin Hiltner

June 7-8, 2024 – Laurel Cove Music Festival

The gem of a festival located just north of the Cumberland Gap in Pineville, Kentucky, has fostered several special moments in recent years, but none come close to matching the memories from Wyatt Flores and The Red Clay Strays headlining sets there this past June.

The first came when Flores’ mics were cut off before an encore, leading to his band sitting atop the speakers lining the stage for a crowd sing along to Tyler Childers’ “Lady May” that to this day still gives me goosebumps. But if that wasn’t enough, The Strays topped it the following night when their show turned into an impromptu baptism after people in the crowd began jumping into the shallow pond surrounding the stage during a performance of their hit song, “Don’t Care.”

Both occurrences were pure magic from two of the year’s hottest country-adjacent acts in an intimate setting with only 1,500 people in attendance, showing that even in the age of corporate mega-festivals the best things still do come in small packages. – Matt Wickstrom

February 16, 2024 – The Death of Dexter Romweber

Though he was never top of the pops – or even on the charts at all, either solo or with Flat Duo Jets – wildman proto-rockabilly guitarist John Michael Dexter “Dex” Romweber was still an inspirational icon in the roots-rock world and a key influence on major bands like White Stripes and Black Keys. Romweber was just 57 years old when he died from a cardiac event this year, a shocking event that inspired a worldwide outpouring of tributes that went on for days. Maybe the best of all came from Jack White, who was always wide open about the depth of Romweber’s influence on White Stripes. Writing on Instagram, White proclaimed that Dex “was the type that don’t get 3 course dinners, awards, gold records and statues made of them because they are too real, too much, too strange, too good.” That’s the truth. – David Menconi

July 27, 2024 – Langhorne Slim, “We the People (Fuck the Man)” Live at the BGS Jam at Newport Folk Festival

While putting together the set list for the BGS Late Night Jam, “A Bluegrass Situation,” at Newport Folk Festival back in July, our old pal Langhorne Slim suggested a new tune he had just written. Would the house band be willing to learn it for this special occasion? In the words of our jam host and BGS co-founder Ed Helms, the song was an “instant Newport Classic.”

Slim’s new tune, “We the People (Fuck the Man)” – later released on streaming platforms just before the election – echoed through the Pickens Theatre that Saturday night and immediately got the audience on their feet. Its lyrics are as timeless and rallying as any Guthrie tune, but amidst all the declarations against greed and polarization there’s an optimistic plea in the chorus:

So let us love our neighbors
Protect the land
Look our brother in the eye
When we shake his hand
It’s been this way a long time
It’s hard to understand
The time has come for everyone
We the people, fuck the man

In these tumultuous times, Slim gave us words (and a performance) we shouldn’t soon forget. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

Sam Williams & Carter Faith, “‘Til I Can Make It on My Own”

Sam Williams and Carter Faith drape their fringe-laced voices over Tammy Wynnette’s “‘Til I Can Make It on My Own.” While honoring the song’s 1976 roots, the two rising stars spin their own lonesome and delicate performance that seems to transcend time and place. “Lord, you know I’m gonna need a friend,” they sing, trading stunningly confessional lines and background harmony. “‘Til I get used to losing you/ Let me keep on using you, ‘til I can make it on my own.” Through a honeyed, emotionally resonant arrangement, Williams and Faith demonstrate exactly why they’re among the best of today’s new crop of talent. – Bee Delores

Yasmin Williams, Acadia

The guitar is perhaps the most ubiquitous instrument in the modern world, making it even more notable that a picker like Yasmin Williams could still stake out fresh territory on the instrument, finding and championing her own truly original sound and approach. Acadia is a masterwork, breaking still new ground after Williams’ incredibly successful 2021 album, Urban Driftwood. While Acadia isn’t exactly a reinvention for the picker-composer-innovator, it does limitlessly expand the acoustic universe she’s been fleshing out since releasing her debut, Unwind, in 2018. That’s a fairly short runway for a creative to accomplish so much, especially given Williams seemingly treats her guitars as brand new devices each time she picks them up to compose. The results are often bafflingly, jaw-dropping, and dramatic – but always musical and ceaselessly inspiring. – Justin Hiltner


Photo Credit: Tracy Chapman live on the 2024 GRAMMY Awards; Kaia Kater by Janice Reid; Langhorne Slim with Ed Helms at Newport Folk Festival by Nina Westervelt.

‘Welcome to the Plains’ and to the Red Dirt Universe of Wyatt Flores

Each year, the country music machine and its many fans and acolytes turn over, again and again and again, the quintessential question of “What is authenticity?” We’ve asked that very question quite a few times on Good Country over the last year ourselves, and we know as long as roots music and folk music are made, listeners will continue to ponder what is or isn’t “real,” “raw,” or… “authentic.”

Wyatt Flores has been chosen as authentic. Country Music has spoken, and this quickly skyrocketing young artist has been riding a wave lately surfed by folks like Sierra Ferrell, Tyler Childers, Colter Wall, and Zach Top. Like these real country “poster children,” Flores’ music is realistic and grounded. It isn’t idealized revisionism in outlaw trappings. His songs never attempt to sugarcoat or mythologize, paving over the complications of rural life, red dirt realness, or the gritty patina of a rural places – like his homeland of Oklahoma.

Flores’ new album, Welcome to the Plains, is decidedly and delightfully trad country with nearly universal critical and listener acclaim. He currently racks up 3.5 million streams a month on Spotify alone, bolstered by a series of incredibly popular and consistently viral singles and EPs leading up to this, his full-length debut. For so many writers, diehard fans, and critics, Flores has long been “one to watch,” but that visibility stretches further and wider, to listeners across the country and around the world from so many different backgrounds and starting points.

Part of the reason why such a young artist with a relatively nascent career could have already amassed such a coalition of followers is that realistic, unguarded, “I know who I am, even though I’m still figuring out where I’m going” approach. It’s evident in his artistry, his performing prowess, and his skill for songwriting – all of which are evidenced prominently across this album.

Welcome to the Plains is one of the most remarkable records of 2024; it continues a tone long set in Flores’ career and music, even before this current inflection point and its substantial momentum. Wyatt Flores is bound for longevity, for many more successes, for many more millions of plays, as long as he remains exactly who he is: Wyatt Flores.

Your music has such a strong sense of place, so I wanted to start by talking about Oklahoma and growing up there. You’re down to earth in the way that you talk about Oklahoma from the beginning of the album, from the first notes of the title track. You’re viewing it in a very realistic way, not just in an idealized way. Can you talk about how Oklahoma inspired the album and what “home” means to you?

Wyatt Flores: When you think about Oklahoma, you have to [barely] scratch the surface to know that the history behind it is pretty screwed up, how Oklahoma came about, and we’re not one of the best states, if that makes sense? We’re 49th in education. And we’ve got a lot of people from California moving there just because it’s cheaper and everything else, but to live in Oklahoma, you gotta bear through the weather.

Then also, every year is a coin toss if things are going to grow, right? This year’s been a struggle up until this past couple of weeks, [during] which we just got like a foot of rain. But yeah, it’s been one of the hardest places to really build. And the people are so damn nice in Oklahoma, but it’s a tough place to live. Most people don’t want it. But I love it. “Welcome to the Plains,” it’s trying to describe [Oklahoma] … in the verses I really wanted to try and find more of a nature side to it, and then by the chorus just really tell the truth about it.

It feels really authentic and grounded, but you can still hear that you love Oklahoma in it, too. I think that’s a really interesting combination. Country is really good at rural America propaganda – and I love rural America, so I’m for it, to a degree – but to me, your album doesn’t feel like it has to close an eye to the history of Oklahoma to love it.

Yeah, it was a fun journey to try. I was sitting there just trying not to write songs about the road, because that was the only thing that I was doing. I was like, “This is the only life I’m living.” And not many people know what it’s like to be on a bus or on tour – at that time we were still in the van. It was more so daydreaming about home, missing the place, and then just trying to find the memories to piece everything together.

And I had a lot of weird influences, like “Little Town,” I was really trying to find the same feeling as listening to “Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp. I don’t write too many happy songs, and I was not in a good headspace in that time period. For some reason, I guess I was just daydreaming of a better life, and I kept writing about home, but in a different format of not always missing it.

Another song that really captures this topic is “Stillwater.” I love that it has this sort of dark, contemplative tinge and it feels gritty. Could talk a little bit about writing “Stillwater” and about your relationship with “home” and the construction of “home”? That’s such a country tradition as well, not just talking about home and missing it, but understanding that home is a nebulous, intangible thing, even if it literally exists.

There’s a lot of bands that say they come from Stillwater, but they really just started in Stillwater and they came from a different area, since it is a college town. But I was born and raised there in Stillwater. All my life the college has been my backyard. When I wrote that song in the summer of ’22, I had my guitar player with me and my fiddle player’s husband and we sat down to write that. It was more so just trying to give people a different perspective on what it’s like to actually grow up in a college town, because it’s a vicious cycle of the same shit – like, no one else sees it, because they’re living inside of the four years of going [to college].

And me also being a college dropout, I never got to actually go to [Oklahoma State University]. I went to OSUIT in Okmulgee, Oklahoma. And that did not last long. [Laughs] But yeah, I was like, “No one’s ever actually talked shit on a hometown and actually put the name in it.” So I was just being ballsy with it. I had to change quite a few lyrics, because I kind of went a little too far. I probably would have pissed a lot of people off.

The song was intentional. I don’t know, [I wanted to] make people think differently. Because that is my home. A lot of times, you just see people take advantage of the town, and the town keeps growing. Every single time I come back home now, there’s another chicken place and another damn car wash. I was like, “How many do we need?” Good lord. I was really pissed off in the mindset of it. I’m glad that we captured it, because for a while, I was scared to release it just because I was like, “People are gonna think that I hate Stillwater.” But really, it’s still a love song towards it.

It feels like you’re loving Stillwater, you’re loving Oklahoma, but your love for it requires you to look at it through an accurate lens and not an idealized version of it.

And it’s a relationship. My relationship with that town has just been back and forth. You’ll have that resentment, and you’ll have that frustration with it, but you still love it. It’s crazy to think about it that way, through that lens, but that’s what it is.

You touched on your co-writing process and I was excited to see how forward your own writing and your own perspective is on this album. Can you describe your co-writing and collaboration process for these songs? I noticed, too, that Ketch Secor co-wrote the title track.

When I wrote with Ketch, that was super cool. ‘Cause I had just gotten done watching Killers of the Flower Moon. I was already so inspired by that and wanting to really speak some truth. But not just by absolutely laying into people on the bad shit that’s going on – you can’t force-feed people. When we sat down [to write, Ketch] said that he wanted to write shit about Oklahoma and I was like, “That works out great!” The song just came together and it was it’s one of the coolest things, because I didn’t know how to feel about it quite yet. I was like, “This has some good shit in there…” and then when we went to record it, I was like, “Here it is! This is the way it’s supposed to go.”

But with the writing of this entire album, I was scared shitless. I didn’t think I was good enough, and I didn’t think these songs were good enough for an album. I started overthinking the entire thing. People can get mad at me all they want for doing co-writes, but I’m still writing. It’s not like I just sit in there and wait for these people to write these songs for me. This is all me.

The other thing is, my music taste [has] so much variety that I think it’s only better if I sit down with other people that have other strengths, to get to where I want to go – into these different styles of songs. I don’t want to do the same song, different chords, you know what I’m saying? I wanted it to be so unique and to keep it the way that I’ve always done it, which is to have different styles of songs. For that, I feel like you have to have different songwriters come in and give you different pieces.

I also have to ask you about bluegrass. One of the first things that we shared on our site of yours was a Tyler Childers cover that you recorded with Sierra Hull at Red Rocks. Our audience loved it so much. I think part of why your music resonates across diehard country fans to indie fans to bluegrass fans is that you’re not just a performer and a songwriter, but you’re a picker, too. What is your relationship like with bluegrass music? Is it something that’s prominent in your listening and in your influence?

So, I will first and foremost say this: I am not that good of a picker. [Laughs]

That stuff, that is something that I love. That is a different art. That is so beautiful. But my love for it– everyone in Oklahoma started listening to Tyler Childers and that’s when he came around, I want to say in my high school days. That’s when everything took a shift. I was like, “I don’t know what this is…” because we all grew up listening to red dirt [country], which is what I am. But my influence has really changed. In the summer of ‘22, Laurel Cove Music Festival was the first time that I had seen Nicholas Jamerson, Charles Wesley Godwin, Sierra Ferrell, Cole Chaney. That changed everything for me. It changed the entire way that I looked at music, and from that point on I started listening to every single one of those artists. It just led to more.

I love bluegrass and I try to have a couple songs [in that style], but I can’t call myself bluegrass. As much as I love what they’re doing and I try, I have my influences, I’m still red dirt. The way that those artists do what they do, it’s because they are them. I have my influences, but I am still just me. So whatever comes out, it’s just me loving and respecting it. But I can’t fully call myself a bluegrass musician, because I’m not. I’m jealous of it though, I’ll tell you that much. I’m jealous, I wish!

The production style and the different aesthetics that you’re utilizing on the album feel like classic country and old country plus dashes of country & western. There are moments that are really rocking and there are moments that are really subdued. It’s also really modern and crisp. How much of that is coming from you or from the ensemble and how much is coming from your producer, Beau Bedford?

A lot of that was Beau. I learned so much from him. [Before,] I really didn’t ever get the experience of being in a studio with musicians that are just wizards. Beau really took care of me.

It was a challenge, because we recorded in three different places. We were in Nashville, in North Carolina, in LA, and then we finished in Nashville. We were scared that it wasn’t gonna flow together, being in these different studios and then also just having this [group] of songs. Luckily, it all came together and as different as they do sound, they still flow. That was all just luck. We’re all we’re all sitting there going, “Huh? Hope this goes right!” I had my doubts, too, and [Beau] goes, “Wyatt, everything’s gonna be all right, because you are the main character that runs through this entire thing.”

That’s the constant throughout the entire project. I’m just lucky that it worked. When you go from different styles of songs – red dirt, and then you got this beachy [thing], old-time. It’s just crazy how they all go along together. Then it goes into this weird psychedelic rock and “Falling Sideways.” It was a wild adventure, and I’m so grateful for it. I just can’t believe the way that it turned out.

I ask this last question often, especially with people like yourself who are so effortlessly traditional country. There are a lot of folks out there who are excited about you – and artists like Zach Top and Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan – because these listeners sense that there’s this “new movement” that’s going to save country music, that’s going to renew country. That country is going to be what it used to be before “murder on Music Row.”

I wondered what your thoughts and feelings are on that paradigm? Because I sense that you don’t care so much about what is or isn’t traditional or what is or isn’t “inside” country. Does country music need to be saved? Do you see yourself as part of that saviorship? Do you care?

There’s something to be said about it, because yeah– I have my opinions about commercial country. There’s some really good songs and then I also think there’s some songs that say absolutely nothing. I guess as a songwriter, my goal is to keep writing about real shit and keep expressing myself with vulnerability. And to still write good songs.

I have a very important person in my life who’s been a mentor to me; his name’s Shane Lamb. I used to talk about writing these super-poppy melodies. And he goes, “Yeah, it’s because it’s popular music. … Who are some of your favorite artists?” We started going through Tyler Childers, early on in the days of me being in Nashville. [Shane] was like, “Listen to the fucking melody, Wyatt. It’s a pop melody. It’s for popular music. That’s why it works. But his arrangement is country.”

And I was like, “Oh… when you think about it that way, yeah, I guess you’re right.” So, I do try to have poppy melodies as much as I can, but I still try and keep my verses very needy, if that makes sense. I like putting a whole bunch of detail and really trying to focus in on the verses and let the chorus speak for itself.

That’s so perfectly put; yes, country has always been popular music. It’s one of my favorite Tyler Mahan Coe quotes, the creator of Cocaine and Rhinestones, the podcast and the book. He talks regularly about how country music has always been popular music. That’s not to say that fact absolves Music Row and Music City from all the truck and beer songs, but it certainly helps remind us that hand-wringing over “Is country music going to be okay?!” is not something that’s ever going to go away, but it’s also not something we really need to worry about.

And I think for the first time ever with social media, people are able to find new music that’s always been there. They’re just now finding out about it for the first time, because the radio stations aren’t playing it. That’s its own deal. But now they’re able to find all this new music and I feel like country is still going to be country. Like you said, when it comes to beer and truck songs, I think the thing that’s missing is them not explaining what they love about it. They’re just talking about it, not being vulnerable with it.

I think about “Drive” by damn Alan Jackson, dude. That is just talking about driving. That’s really all it is, but the sentiment is there, because it has to do with the father and the son. And then, all of a sudden, there’s the father and the daughter – that is fucking awesome country music that I still absolutely love! I wish that I could do that, like that Zach Top thing. I told him that whenever I met him, I was like, “Dude, I wish I could do it.” I really do. ‘Cause he’s fucking killing it. There’s so many different styles of music and I’d rather just do what I want to do, which is all of them, rather than just settle for one sound.


Photo Credit: Natalie Rhea