The pivotal moment in Gretchen Wilson's career took place in the apartment of her co-writer and associate producer John Rich, the former member of Lonestar who's on the charts again as one-half of the duo Big & Rich. They were watching CMT, killing a few minutes before sitting down to write a song.

"Two or three videos by current female artists came on," says Rich, "and Gretchen looked at me. She had a dip of Cherry Skoal in her mouth, smoking a Marlboro, and she said, 'John, I hope Nashville doesn't want me to look like that because I don't know if I can. They're just so slick. They're so perfect, and I'm not the Barbie doll type.' "

Wilson knew the type well. It's one template against which new female singers are judged, and she had come up against it in the form of major label auditions and had been found wanting a half-dozen times. "I wasn't the right age, I wasn't exactly thin enough, I wasn't exactly soft enough, pretty enough," she says.

Rich asked her to describe herself and she said, "I'm just kind of a redneck woman."

"Then that's the song we need to write," he said.

They wrote it, and it may well rewrite the current country rulebook. First, it loosed a flood of songs from Wilson and her co-writers that plumb the gritty realities of life for the legions of game but harried women who struggle with work and family in the trailer parks and taverns of redneck country. Then it helped get her a record deal. "Redneck Woman" was the first song Wilson sang for the new Sony Music leadership team of John Grady and Mark Wright in the meeting that led to her signing. Most importantly, radio and the buying public have embraced the record enthusiastically.

"Redneck Woman" reached the Top 10 of the Hot Country Singles & Tracks chart in Billboard just five weeks after its release and it currently sits at #4. Among debut singles of the past 20 years, only Trisha Yearwood's "She's in Love With the Boy," Billy Ray Cyrus' "Achy Breaky Heart" and LeAnn Rimes' "Blue" rose as quickly, and they did so in an era when records moved much more rapidly up and down the charts. "Redneck Woman" is the top-selling download at walmart.com and it has landed Wilson a June 2 appearance on the Today show as well as a Grand Ole Opry appearance on May 15 and an opening slot on a summer tour with Brooks & Dunn and Montgomery Gentry.

The single's success took even Wilson's label by surprise, prompting it to move up the release of her debut album, Here for the Party. Sony is also featuring her in a series of ads for a Sony credit card that the label and BankOne are running in Rolling Stone, US Weekly and Men's Journal.

Wilson's success couldn't have come at a better time. Country music has been desperate for someone to make females viable again. Downloading, pop influences, a herd mentality and the lack of new superstars all have been cited as among the genre's recent problems. Still, several male acts, most notably Toby Keith and Kenny Chesney, have been holding their own.

For women, though, the situation has been critical. In the past 100 weeks, the only female to have a #1 Billboard single has been Terri Clark. There have been many weeks in the past few years when there were just two or three women in the Top 20, and just 10 or 12 in the Top 40. Faith Hill's last album was a disappointment, Shania's latest has sold just five million copies (its predecessor sold 19 million) and the Dixie Chicks haven't cracked the Top 40 since last year's unpleasantness involving Natalie Maines' swipe at George W. Bush. With the possible exception of Martina McBride, whose Greatest Hits album sold three million copies and whose singles have consistently gone Top 5, women simply aren't selling or charting like they were during the boom years of the late '90s. In fact, Country Weekly did a cover story on the phenomenon in December.

If the superstars are struggling, then the newcomers have had little hope. Recently, the Academy of Country Music announced that there would be no Top New Female Vocalist award given at its primetime awards show May 26. There simply weren't enough women to make the category competitive.

Wilson is changing that with a single that manages to justify the buzz Sony created for her at Nashville's Country Radio Seminar in February. "Redneck Woman" is a flat-out rocker crammed with references to taverns, Wal-Mart, year-round Christmas lights and tailgate parties. "Some people look down on me, but I don't give a rip / I'll stand barefooted in my own front yard with a baby on my hip," Wilson sings with an attitude country hasn't seen since the heyday of Loretta Lynn. The song's video, complete with muddy four-wheelers, a bit of skin and cameos by Big & Rich, Hank Jr., Tanya Tucker and Kid Rock, drives the point home. The trick to all of it is that there is no trick: It's just Gretchen being Gretchen.

"I'm the biggest thing that ever came/from my home town /And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let/'em down" — "Pocahontas Proud"

Raised 36 miles east of St. Louis in Pocahontas, Ill., Wilson grew up in a chaotic household with her mother, younger brother and stepfather. Her mother was 16 when she had Gretchen, who wouldn't see her father until she made a point of meeting him when she was 12.

"We had a crazy life," she says. "We moved around a lot and we were all over the place and in and out of different schools. I got to witness firsthand, you know, a lot of things not to do—don't run off and marry the first guy that says he loves you. Don't spend all your money on Monday and then you don't have anything left. Just growing up with imperfection around me toughened me up, made me smarter. I'm definitely not book smart but I'm pretty street smart."

Some of Wilson's best early memories involve her grandmother, who lived outside town with any number of domestic and wild animals, including "a red fox that she would hand feed."

"When everything was going crazy and falling apart and we were moving around," she says, "my grandma had her head on straight."

The two of them would listen to Hank Williams Sr., Patsy Cline and Loretta Lynn on an old record player, and stay up late eating cheeseburgers and watching television. Gretchen would also sneak into her uncle's room to listen to Hank Jr., Merle Haggard, Led Zeppelin and Loverboy, among others. By the time she was 8, she had written her first song, and she went to church just to listen to the music. Still, her grandparents' house was only a temporary refuge.

"Home was really tough," she says. "We didn't all get along all the time, there were lots of issues, lots of problems, and I grew up real fast. I think by the time I was 15 I felt like I was ready to go out on my own and do my own thing. I just wasn't happy at home anymore."

At 14, she'd begun cooking and tending bar in a place called Big O's alongside her mother, who signed her out of school for good at 15.

"I went out and bought an amplifier and a cassette player and microphone and I started booking gigs under the name of 'Country Cutie,' " she says. "I was playing to the Happy Hour crowds, an older generation of people. They thought I was adorable and they liked hearing me, a 15-year-old, sitting there singing, 'You ain't woman enough to take my man.' "

Soon she was living on her own, often working behind the bar with a double-barrel shotgun for protection. She began playing other night spots, always conscious of the fact that she was underage.

"I behaved myself," she says. "I knew my limits and boundaries."

At 16, she joined her first band, and eventually she was in two or three, playing almost every night and earning a good living. She hit regional paydirt with a band that played classic rock as Baywolf and country as Midnight Flyer, becoming one of the biggest draws in the St. Louis area.

"We had a great thing going," she says. "I mean really good money, home every night, never really went too far away from home. It became almost like a regular job."

Although she was growing musically, she says, "I had kind of topped out there and I guess I just decided that Nashville was not going to come to me."

"You know I'm here for the party/And I ain't leavin' 'til they throw me out/Gonna have a little fun/Gonna get me some" —"Here for the Party"

Wilson moved to Nashville in 1996 and eventually got work as a bartender at the Bourbon Street Blues & Boogie Bar in Printer's Alley. Occasionally, she sat in with the band, singing hits by Aretha Franklin and Patti LaBelle. Rich, who had won and lost a solo record deal, walked in one night with rocker Big Kenny, with whom he had begun collaborating. He loved Gretchen's voice and approached her when she went back behind the bar.

"He came walking up in his cowboy hat and his duster and he just looked at me and said, 'Man, you're good! How come you ain't got a record deal?' I blew him off because I thought he was just another one of these guys that just wanted to talk or whatever. So I threw a CD and a business card at him and said, 'I'm kinda busy right now but if you're serious, call me back.' "

Dismissing Rich as a "wannabe cowboy singer," Wilson ignored his calls for months until a friend told her about his stint with Lonestar and his solo deal, and said he actually was in a position to help. When she finally called him, he began introducing her to friends and co-writers and she began picking up demo work. (She sang the original demos for Martina's "In My Daughter's Eyes" and Reba's "I'm Gonna Take That Mountain," among others.) She also became part of the Muzik Mafia, a Tuesday night extravaganza started by Big & Rich with Jon Nicholson and Cory Gierman that now also includes James Otto, Brian Barnett, Max Abrams and Pino Squillace, among a terrific crew of backing musicians and singers.

The Mafia is a countercultural circle along the lines of Austin's old Outlaws, with Big & Rich filling the roles of Waylon & Willie. There is even an artist named Rachel Kice who paints huge canvasses during the shows, capturing the proceedings while swaying to the music in an evening dress. The shows began with tiny crowds at 12th & Porter; after three years, they've moved to the Mercy Lounge, where they still occur regularly, and to packed houses. Guests and audience members have included Martina McBride, Kid Rock, Uncle Kracker, Saliva, Puddle Of Mud, Holly Williams and Ronnie Dunn, among others.

Big & Rich and Otto were signed to major label deals thanks to the Mafia while Wilson suffered through that series of unsuccessful auditions. Mark Wright, who was at MCA when she auditioned there, says, "I was always aware of what a great singer she was but had not heard any original material that blew me away." The challenge would be finding her voice, a process which meant breaking out of Music Row's parameters.

"The last negative showcase that I had," Wilson says, "I made a decision that night that I was not willing anymore to try to be a puppet and do things that I thought they wanted me to do. It was going to be on my terms from this point out: 'This is who I am, and if you like it, great, and if you don't, I'm not going to waste your time.' "

"Now, Honey, I'm a Christian/But if you keep it up/I'm gonna go to kickin'/Your pretty little butt/Is that clear enough?" —"Homewrecker"

There's no denying the quality of Wilson's pipes. She can sing with the power of Heart's Ann Wilson, the spunk of Natalie Maines and the heart of Loretta. As a performer, Wilson has a the energy and swagger of a blueswoman. Still, she was just another Nashville demo singer until she found her voice as a songwriter.

"When she, John Rich and Vicky McGehee started writing together, they defined Gretchen Wilson," says Wright, who brought Wilson to Sony for the audition and produced her project with Joe Scaife (who also produced "Achy Breaky Heart"), with Rich as associate producer. "The fact that Gretchen is what she sings is the most important part of the scenario. She doesn't 'airbrush' her music. There is something about the truth that people like and recognize."

The influences on Here for the Party are varied, but for every rocker like "Here for the Party" and "Redneck Woman," there is a bit of unvarnished country like "Homewrecker" and "When I Think About Cheatin'." The former harks back to Loretta Lynn's timeless throwdowns with pretty tarts, and the latter is a country anthem complete with weepy steel and Charlie Rich-style piano. "Chariot" is a gospel rave-up with a rap section, and "What Happened" is a wrenching blues. The album's subject matter covers fidelity and infidelity, drinking, heartache, love and religion, all sitting firmly atop Wilson's rock-solid identity. She co-wrote all but four of the album's 10 songs.

"Once I got some feedback off 'Redneck Woman,' " she says, "the rest of the songwriting for this record just kinda just flowed out of me. They were things I always wanted to say but didn't know if they would ever go over. I'm not exactly sure what happened to country music, but it seems to me like years ago with Loretta Lynn and Tanya Tucker and Dolly Parton, they wrote songs about their life."

Although the real measure of Sony's success will come with the album's release, the rollout points to great things. The buzz was at full volume by the time CRS opened in late February.

"I was amazed," says Bob Kingsley, the host and producer of the syndicated "American Country Countdown." "Every time I'd get in an elevator, people had to tell me about her. I was missing stops listening to them rave. It's been a long time since once person dominated the conversation that way."

The accolades have poured in ever since, and there are plenty of people hoping Wilson's CD can help kickstart sales of country by women. They see in her a quality Dolly Parton referred to in talking to Country Weekly last December regarding some of Wilson's heroes.

"I remember in the '60s and '70s, there weren't that many women around," Dolly told CW, "but the ones whose songs were very strong and spoke to women, such as Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn and Tammy Wynette, their music is always going to be around."

While Wilson is enjoying her sudden notoriety, she's guarded in her optimism. "I've had so many things go wrong in my life," she says, "that it seems to me if I'm expecting the worst, then when something great happens, I'm just pleasantly surprised."

"Two publishing deals fell through on her," says Rich, "and she got turned down by all those labels. It's been a bloodbath of a ride for her, but she stuck it out and did it and is tearing the world apart right now." The marketplace, he is convinced, is ripe. "There's tens of millions of girls out there like Gretchen, and nobody's been talking to them in forever."

Wilson sees the same women, and as a 30-year-old, eighth-grade-educated product of a tough upbringing, she sees one every time she looks in the mirror.

"I think I'm here to tell it like it is, maybe," she says. "I'm here to be a voice for women who had it like I did. All the women that I grew up around, they go to work every day, come home every night, picking up kids, feeding the family, trying to get the laundry done, trying to get the dishes done, doing a thousand things every day and getting 5 hours sleep and then getting up and doing it again.

"I think it takes a hell of a person to do that day in and day out," Wilson adds. "And I just haven't really heard anybody patting them on the back lately, you know?"