For most devoted fans of modern country music, the last five or so years have been a refreshing course correction after the long reign of bro country. The breakout of the new mainstream, consisting of eclectic artists and acts with distinct sounds and textures, was wide-ranging. All of a sudden, top country playlists, along with radio, might set a track with an 808 beat right alongside something with mandolin and banjo.
While this explosive schism in the beloved genre seemed to dismantle the stalest of trends, it also birthed the largest phase of sound replicators to date. You could easily point to five or ten emerging acts whose work mirrors that of established artists, drawing not only inspiration but near-identical sonic likeness. Impressively, many of these acts can replicate a modern artist’s sound note-for-note, yet when they try traditional country, it collapses into a shallow, overtwanged affectation. The façade of the “traditional savant” comes across as charming and harmless, but in truth, it is one of the laziest forms of trend copying in modern country.
‘90s country, a phrase held near and dear to our hearts, was characterized by story-driven songwriting, emotionally raw vocals, and a willingness to blend traditional instruments with contemporary production. Today, it’s referenced musically as a goofy, unserious, and over-twanged approximation, more concerned with signaling nostalgia than capturing the craft, depth, or emotional resonance that defined the era. While jukeboxes and pearl snap shirts definitely had their moment, they fully overshadow the themes of personal regret and struggle that gave this era its depth and soul.
For example, Zach Top has released two full-length projects built on a carefully crafted retro-country sound, drawing frequent comparisons to Alan Jackson, Tracy Lawrence, and Keith Whitley. While the songs across both records are thoughtfully constructed, the projects as complete bodies of work can feel surface-level, rarely venturing beyond themes of love, lust, and recklessness. The result lands safely in the middle ground of familiar topics rather than pushing toward deeper narrative or emotional specificity.
Meanwhile, apart from a few occasional nods to Keith Whitley, the traditional legends of the 1980s rarely get their due. This may be because this wasn’t an era revolving around country credibility and hoedowns. The 80s were defined by a crisper, more polished sound that balanced traditional instruments with class, featuring steel guitar, fiddle, and tight rhythm sections, yet never losing the emotional depth and storytelling at the heart of the genre. Vocals were often restrained and nuanced, favoring subtlety over the exaggerated guitar bends and vocal drawl that would later become the markers of “retro” authenticity.
Although a large percentage of the popular country music from the 80s and 90s was about love and heartbreak, it’s a disservice to overlook the many quirky, offbeat, or truly strange concepts that artists explored during these eras. From the biggest of hits like Reba’s “Whoever’s in New England,” to Toby Keith’s “Should’ve Been A Cowboy,” writing was clever, character-rich, and crafted to tell a story that stuck with listeners long after the song ended.
One clear example of selective traditionalism can be found in one of today’s most celebrated traditional-leaning artists. Zach Top has released two full-length projects built on a carefully executed retro-country sound, drawing frequent comparisons to Alan Jackson, Tracy Lawrence, and Keith Whitley. While the songs across both records are thoughtfully constructed, the projects as complete bodies of work can feel surface-level, rarely venturing beyond themes of love, lust, and recklessness. The result lands safely in the middle ground of familiar topics rather than pushing toward deeper narrative or emotional specificity.
Today, it’s almost as if the thematic déjà-vu of bro country has been rebranded, trading its backwards snapback for overalls and a straw hat. Rather than sensitive stories of heartbreak, murder, and addiction, with unique references and specificity, the traditional movement has hit a wall, only reaching the limit of cliché and surface-level songs about shallow, groaningly boring heartbreak, dive bars (and their stools), old-fashionedness, dirt roads, and occasional regurgitated versions of “Chattahoochee.” To their credit, people like Zach Top, Jake Worthington, Randall King, and others have been very productive in reincorporating sounds that were left by the wayside. Still, the full emotional depth, narrative complexity, or originality of classic country have not been restored.
On a separate note, many artists today would likely have been celebrated and held up as part of the “outlaw movement” of the late 1960s through the early 1980s. Musicians like Charley Crockett, Sierra Ferrell, Sturgill Simpson, and Benjamin Tod embody the outlaw movement’s ethos, in which originality and individuality always come first. These acts have forged their own sounds and storytelling styles, drawing heavily on their lived experiences. From recollections of homelessness, addiction, and trainhopping, to sweet lessons of fatherhood redemption, these songs are raw and deeply personal, but never receive the recognition they deserve.
Although the depth of storytelling contained in the iconic eras of truly traditional country music has yet to be fully restored, it’s still refreshing to hear fiddle and steel return to the spotlight. Much of modern experimentation has strayed far from the genre’s roots, and until recently, nods to past generations often felt superficial or disingenuous. However, as artists now fully commit to a sound rooted in tradition, there is room for intentionality, authenticity, and the richness of storytelling to reclaim their place in country music. If the same level of thoughtfulness is ever achieved, we may see a full resurgence of storytelling that honors its roots while embracing innovation and risk, proving that tradition and originality can coexist without compromise.
