The Rise and Fall of “The Old Koe Wetzel”

Koe Wetzel
Via Koe Wetzel's FB

Let’s start with a short trip back in time. The year was 2019. Zach Bryan hadn’t emerged onto the country music scene as the format’s preeminent counterculture warrior. At the time, there was a strong movement outside of Nashville, and no one could deny that brave soldiers like Tyler Childers, Sturgill Simpson, and Flatland Cavalry were delivering a healthy alternative to Nashville’s pedestrian radio drivel. These artists weren’t exactly taking over country music, but there was no doubt that something was happening, and country radio’s stranglehold on the format’s biggest stages was steadily getting loose. 

Even though the Appalachian folk heroes of the time played on bigger stages nationwide, a revelrous movement was going down amidst the frat bros and other young’uns in Texas and Oklahoma. Its instigator? A sloppy, foul-mouthed redneck by the name of Koe Wetzel. Since 2017, he and his brand of youthful country rock had slowly amassed a blue-collar Beatlemania that enraptured college kids across the red dirt scene.

With an instantly recognizable drawl, sly wit, and cocky, self-styled stage presence, Koe Wetzel radiated “superstar” as no one else in the indie-country movement could. The cool part was that he offset that magnetic confidence with a tinge of self-loathing, making him a tragic anti-hero. Even though most of his songs were rooted in sex, drugs, and rock and roll, he gave you the impression that his lifestyle was one that he had resigned himself to for lack of a better alternative. Songs like “Powerball” and “Too High To Cry” were a nice counterbalance to “Fuss and Fight” and “Something To Talk About,” making Koe not only original but unexpectedly complicated.

In the years to come, mainstream country music would become more friendly to artists with a chip on their shoulders to do things their own way. After fellow Texans Parker McCollum and Cody Johnson signed major-label record deals, Koe Wetzel also set his sights on bigger stages and brighter lights. 

When he released Sellout and Hell Paso, he received praise from fans and critics alike, who saw him sticking firmly to his grunge-rock guns yet steadily growing his songwriting. Koe was getting older, and nonstop carousing just didn’t feel like him anymore. In his late 20s, he understood something that radio mainstays like Keith Urban and Jason Aldean have grappled with for decades: that the best artists can be inspired by the weight of adulthood just as much as careless youth, and indeed, doing so is the only real path to longevity. 

In the wake of his popularity, even as regional as it was, a slew of new, grunge-influenced country-rock acolytes began popping up around the Texas music scene. Kolby Cooper, Kody West, and Pecos & the Rooftops were just a handful of the contemporaries who gained some clout in Koe’s wake. However, none of them quite channeled his sincerity or matched his wit when he was in the mood to let his attitude run wild.

To this point, it felt like we understood Koe Wetzel pretty well, as he played the part of a washed-up party boy, with his confidence shaken a bit and a better perspective on his old ways. Then, out of nowhere, 2024’s 9 Lives came along and raised some legitimate questions about how much he had left in the tank creatively. 2022’s Hell Paso indicated that Koe might be ready for a new chapter and cover some new topical ground, but this album’s overall lack of purpose made it tough to really know Koe through the songs. For the first time, it felt more like he was playing a character than sharing his true life experiences. 

That’s not to say that the songs were bad; in fact, many of them were a lot of fun, offering an impressive slew of catchy hooks that stick in your head the way most of Wetzel’s previous records didn’t always. However, for many of Koe’s biggest fans, this album’s accessibility was its biggest downfall. Songs like “Bar Song” and “Leigh” are a good time in a vacuum, but stacked up against “Forever” or “February 28th, 2016,” they feel downright inauthentic; for Koe, no matter how much he exaggerates, and regardless of whether his yarns are even true, it’s imperative that you believe him. It’s one thing to sing songs about being an unheeding bad boy, but for years, this dude made you believe that he really was one. After signaling that he’s moved on from that era, it makes no sense for him to go back to the well with songs that don’t reflect his true self these days.

Was Koe typecast into this role early on? Sure, a bit. However, since the glory days of 2019, the “realness” of his character has been the most appealing part. It’s just not that we like troubled ner do wells; we liked how intimately Koe Wetzel allowed us to know one. If he can’t be that guy anymore, no worries; most of us would rather follow this character in the next stage of his narrative evolution than cycle through his half-hearted attempts to be someone he’s not. For crying out loud, the old Koe wouldn’t have needed to cover “Depression and Obsession” by XXXTENTACION. On Harold Saul High alone, there were a good half dozen songs that were just as tragically troubled and felt as real to him as X’s song did to its original artist.

So, where does that leave us? Well, as Koe Wetzel himself slowly forfeits his dirty, depraved personal, a few new faces have popped up on the scene to carry the mantle. Perhaps most notably, Georgia’s Gavin Adcock arrived last year with every bit of cocky swagger that Koe did on his 2017 debut. In concert and through your speakers, there’s no doubt that he’s got that same bold spirit that regularly leads him into questionable situations that make for great stories. Adcock leans a little more country than Koe but keeps that jagged edge that keeps him blissfully out of favor with country radio program directors nationwide.

Obviously, the other key torch-bearer in the post-Koe Wetzel alt-country scene is Treaty Oak Revival. For them, the sound and the stories come before the attitude. Frontman Sam Canty isn’t as self-styled or extroverted as Wetzel or Adcock, but with a distinguished drawl of his own backed by some of the heaviest riffage in country music, Treaty Oak has quickly made their mark as a premiere rock band working today. Whether the band is fighting it out in divorce court (See You In Court) or on the run from aliens (Close Encounters), their wit is undeniable, and like Koe, they rarely miss a chance to unleash a hard-hitting head-banger.

For Koe Wetzel himself, it’s not fair to hope for a “return to form,” but a step away from mainstream country music wouldn’t be a bad thing. No one wants to see him stuck in a rut in service to a motif that isn’t his anymore. As he takes on big life changes like turning 30 and becoming a father, fans want to follow his growth from album to album. With Hell Paso, he’s already proven that he’s not a one-trick pony and knows how to age his music with newfound perspectives. As he enjoys more commercial acclaim than ever, the only question is whether he’ll do it.