In the 2010s, those who represented the mainstream powers-that-be decried skeptics towards interloping crossover smash hits like Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road” and Bebe Rexha’s “Meant To Be.” From atop the oligarchic iHeartRadio empire that owns dozens of country music stations nationwide, CMA-award-winning broadcaster Bobby Bones regularly goes to bat for these singles, usually on the basis of their commercial appeal, and on the grounds that every generation’s young stars have drawn accusations of being “not country.”
Defending the “country-ness” of these flat ditties is a straw-man argument. As any listener with even a moderately diverse musical palate could tell you, these songs’ biggest fault wasn’t that they weren’t country; it was just that they weren’t good. And unfortunately, the biggest songs will almost always set the standard for those beneath them.
Amidst this severe deficit of quality on the mainstream scene, we turned to unlikely outsider-heroes like Zach Bryan, Koe Wetzel, and even Sturgill Simpson. Even though the pop-country purveyors may have antagonized us more critical listeners for “gatekeeping” against cynical R&B stars, opening our doors to acts just as inclined to cite 2000s alt-rock bands as their primary influences as your granddad’s outlaw vinyls is a pretty significant lapse in our “gatekeeping” duties. In truth, their ripple tore open our conception of “what’s country” more than “Old Town Road” ever could.
Today, whether we like it or not, extra-country acts have made extremely successful inroads into country music thanks to the aforementioned artists’ (and others’) creative efforts. As we all know, these acts range from newcoming rock bands like Treaty Oak Revival to established alternative singer-songwriters like Noah Kahan (more on him here). In 2018, it was easy to listen to a dull single with a trap beat on the radio and yell, “That’s not country!” But as fans of good music, our response has made it harder than ever to distinguish what should and shouldn’t qualify under our genre umbrella.
If the 2020s have told us one thing, it’s that country fans will turn a suspicious blind eye to adventurous artists like Morgan Wallen, who regularly employ 808s and heavy bass in their work, while criticizing the aforementioned pop-country singles and others like them. Though many have tried to paint this perceived double standard as an example of inherent bias on the part of the average country music listener, I believe the truth is a lot more interesting.
It’s fair to ask, “Why does Morgan Wallen get to push the boundaries of the country music label, and Walker Hayes doesn’t?” Simple: through all of the traditionalist braying about returning to the 90s, and even 2000s, the crux of the argument was never just about wanting country music to sound “country.” It was just as much about hearing something witty, or wise, or musically sophisticated when you turn on the radio, even as a casual listener. Even if you just followed the format passively, the difference between the average Garth Brooks single and the average Blake Shelton single should be self-evident.
Though Wallen has had his name on many a stupid song, his best has been a huge net good for advancing that standard of quality in mainstream country music. At the expense of our “gatekeeping,” most listeners understand that it’s far more important to hear something with substance.
As far as genre-import acts go, this is the key difference with country-adjacent singer-songwriters like Noah Kahan and Kacey Musgraves (you know, post-Golden Hour). They aren’t out here hocking cheap ditties, but high-quality alt-pop that deserves attention, regardless of genre placement.
In the post-Zach Bryan era, we have to face a reality where not everything will be identifiable as “country” or “not country.” But that’s not a bad thing! In fact, it allows us to deal with a far more significant question: “Is it good, and does it make our format better?”
Obviously, we know that not everything can be country just because the artist says it is. If a song or record is obviously and unmistakably native to another format, it likely has no place in country music. But we live in a time where those lines are awfully blurry, and any acoustic-based singer-songwriter can find common ground with our format’s biggest trend-setters. See ROLE MODEL, who has made no claim to be invested in country music, but fits right in alongside Sam Barber and Evan Honer’s ilk.
As such, the 2020s have found country music to be a home for artists that haven’t found a tidy fit anywhere else, from your younger whipper-snappers like Ole 60 to your rock elders like Hootie & the Blowfish to your in-between acts like Chris Stapleton. Just like we’ve grandfathered in older acts like the Eagles and John Prine, there’s a place for country-adjacent acts that could’ve categorically been rock bands 30 years ago.
The moral of the story is this: the artists and songs we champion should uphold our overall standard of quality and not invite ugly trends that degrade the art form, from mindless, six-word hooks to monotonous, empty-calorie production.
If we allow a newcomer to spend 50 consecutive weeks atop the Billboard Hot Country chart based on our own consumption, let’s make it someone whose work is worthy of it, no matter how difficult it is to pin down the “country-ness” of it all.
For the good of the genre, let’s prioritize gatekeeping quality. Someday, maybe the institutions will too.
