Country music has always existed in separate but relatively equal realms in American pop music. New York and L.A. labels, for the most part, left the genre to Nashville—and the largely white, lower-middle class, working peoples’ music had an isolated audience that didn’t really overlap the way hip-hop, disco, rock and R&B did with pop music.
The closest “true” intersection was Irving Azoff’s Urban Cowboy moment, where the soundtrack balanced Los Angeles country-rock cognoscenti like the Eagles, J.D. Souther, Linda Ronstadt and Bonnie Raitt with Texas mainstays Mickey Gilley, Johnny Lee and a soon-to-return to Nashville Charlie Daniels Band. That moment dovetailed with a meaningful crossover wave—Kenny Rogers, Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5,” Ronnie Milsap, Crystal Gayle and Eddie Rabbitt hits, which RCA Nashville domo Joe Galante pushed into the ’80s and ’90s with AC softcore mainstays Restless Heart and Lone Star—that sold tickets to fans who identified as “country.”
A larger truth has always existed: The co-mingling of country, pop and rock is cyclical. Yes, Emmylou Harris was signed by Warner Burbank—in the wake of Gram Parsons’ untimely death. But mostly the traffic was pop acts looking to resuscitate (or reignite) their popularity. Jimmy Buffett, Nicolette Larson, Darius Rucker and Lionel Richie all swore fidelity to country; The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band—responsible for three editions of the genre- and generational-bridging Will the Circle Be Unbroken—had far greater success in Nashville than pop or rock.
(Daniel Prakopcyk)
(Rebecca Sapp/Getty Images for The Recording Academy)
Even the rabid retail success of Garth Brooks, Billy Ray Cyrus and Shania Twain, as well as Faith Hill’s crossover singles never yielded a moment where New York and Los Angeles wanted to get into the country business. Leave the hillbillies to their own. The coasts had cooler fish to fry.
Maybe it’s the power of streaming—where Oklahoma Navy man Zach Bryan came from nowhere to Springsteen-like Everyman popularity, or Tucker Wetmore’s more traditional ’80s country. Perhaps social media starts fires: Kane Brown’s “Used to Love You Sober” and Luke Combs’ “Hurricane” created momentum that Country radio and Nashville labels embraced.
Suddenly indie labels—Big Loud with non-cancellable supernova Morgan Wallen, Broken Bow with the omnipresent Jelly Roll and Lainey Wilson and Big Machine’s decade-plus power play with Taylor Swift, Florida Georgia Line and now Riley Green—weren’t just competing, they were dominating.
Add in key moments of cultural reckoning, and suddenly, all eyes focused on country. Never mind Kane Brown, who, with little reference to being Black, Native American or white, sold out stadiums and NBA arenas while doing collabs with beyond-genre superstars Khalid, Marshmello, Swae Lee and Camila Cabello, while Luke Combs’ reprise of Tracy Chapman’s working-class cri du coeur “Fast Car” gave the rock/folk songwriter a country #1. Or Mickey Guyton, the first Black woman nominated for a Country Solo Grammy, who co-hosted the Academy of Country Music Awards.
(David Bergman)
Suddenly, the stakes shifted. Look to Aaron Bay-Schuck’s visionary signing of Zach Bryan, Monte Lipman’s global dominance with Taylor Swift and Morgan Wallen/Big Loud alliances, followed by teaming with Miranda Lambert as an artist and a label head (her Big Loud Texas imprint is focused on the expansive Texas music scene), or John Janick, whose Interscope has been critical in Kacey Musgraves’ genre-jettisoning worldwide superstardom, and realize Nashville’s stranglehold on “country,” whether traditional, hybrid, mainstream, bluegrass or red dirt, is most likely over.
Coastal saw Warner Nashville rise on the strength of Elektra’s breakout success with Bailey Zimmerman, plus rejectionist Sturgill Simpson (who’s pulled stints on Atlantic and Elektra) and Warner Records heatseeking female Dasha. In some cases, there’s NY/Nashville synergy delivering Columbia’s Ella Langley and Rolling Stone cover girl Megan Moroney teaming Columbia and Sony Nashville.
Whether Black, LGBTQ+ or an out-of-genre star looking to polish their musical belt buckle, 2024 was explosive. Beyoncé won both the Country Album and notoriously elusive Album of the Year Grammy with her erudite Cowboy Carter, enlisting Miley Cyrus, Parton, Willie Nelson and a cadre of unheralded Black country artists. Post Malone not only had key duets on Beyoncé and Swift’s projects, but his euphoric F-1 Trillion went long by dueting with today’s mainstream country hitmakers.
And who had a bigger song last year than Shaboozey’s “Tipsy (A Bar Song)”?
Chappell Roan, the most gender-bending pop/soul sensation since Boy George, drops the hard-sapphic line-dance romp “The Giver” with Parton/Shania seismic punch. Sure, Nashville’s embraced multiple ACM/CMA Duo of the Year Brothers Osborne’s deep-voiced T.J. Osborne being out, while Lilly Rose has an easier time than kd lang, whose coming out in the ’80s saw her leave the genre. Lil Nas X and Orville Peck are as glamboyant as they wanna be!
(Parkwood Entertainment)
Then there’s is-she-or-isn’t-she (country) Brandi Carlile. Her Highwomen supergroup united Texas Americana force Amanda Shires, uber-songwriter Natalie Hemby and mainstream sensation Maren Morris; she also co-produced the Grammy-sweeping return of Country Music Hall of Fame inductee Tanya Tucker.
Rock producers mining elders accelerated. Beyond Rick Rubin’s Johnny Cash reclamation, Don Was with Willie and Waylon Jennings and T Bone Burnett with Oh Brother, Jack White reignited Loretta Lynn and Dan Auerbach reanimated Hank Williams Jr. and John Anderson. And Wynonna Judd opted to sign with anti- instead of a Nashville label.
The irony of today’s gold rush is how dismantling so much structure begs the question: When country cools, as all things do, what happens when people with the institutional knowledge have been replaced? Between young executives coming out of schools like Belmont and Middle Tennessee State raised with little empiric knowledge of Alan Jackson or Vince Gill, let alone more than lip-service awareness of Merle Haggard and George Jones and coastal execs, organic sourcing is lost.
For Texas acts—be it red dirt purveyor Koe Wetzel, who had his first #1 at Country radio, and Whiskey Myers, honky-tonk denizens from multiple CMA/ACM award winner Cody Johnson to songwriter-driven headliner Parker McCollum—this may be the moment where they disrupt Nashville the way “the Outlaws” did. Certainly major label muscle is accelerating their power.
(Matthew Berinato)
(Trevor Pavlik)
Americana and bluegrass, too, stand to benefit. Billy Strings—a dynamic live act whose Rounder/Reprise alliance echoes Molly Tuttle’s own Compass/Nonesuch reach—is selling out arenas. Along with Farrell, they’re taking bluegrass into the biggest venues in much the same way The Lumineers, Mumford & Sons, The Avett Brothers, Tyler Childers and Carlile emerged from Americana.
Beyond semantics, it comes down to two realities: Whose country is it, and are the days of country’s singular fan-base over? Zach Bryan fans may like Steve Earle or Emmylou Harris, but chances are most George Strait and Garth Brooks fans have no idea who he is.
If Chris Stapleton is heir to Willie Nelson’s beyond-genre unification, equally comfortable singing with Justin Timberlake as Patty Loveless, who rocks, ’grasses, classic countries and sultry souls, how many acts can follow that? Or maybe Stapleton clears the deck for whomever to do whatever.
With Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler” getting a Latin YeeEDM remix, dee jays emerging with their own way of spinning the genre, as well as the Dan Tyminski vocal on Diplo’s “Hey Brother,” rave country can’t be far off. Whether it’s a return to organic country (Old Crow Medicine Show), more countrypolitan (Charley Crockett), vibey (Lana Del Ray) or hick hop (Snoop Dogg needs to make his move), the next frontier may well be light years from what Hank Williams, Roy Acuff, Chet Atkins, The Carter Family and Bob Wills had in mind.
Considering the impact of Ray Charles’ Modern Sounds in Country & Western Music and the Pointer Sisters’ Country Grammy win for “Fairy Tale,” why not? If the Eagles can have a #1 Country Album, after—like Zach Bryan—working to distance themselves from the genre, who’s to say? More importantly, why would you want to?