Every time Beyoncé blinks, a hater stirs. I suppose one can’t rise to the position of being the greatest entertainer of their generation without collecting a few antagonists along the way. And frankly I’m impressed by how quasi-sophisticated anti-Beyoncé rhetoric has become in the resplendent light of her eighth studio album Cowboy Carter. Before we get into the weeds here, it’s important to acknowledge that the cultural and critical reception of Cowboy Carter since its release in March has been magnificently positive. I genuinely believe that the echoes of celebration for this album will be heard for decades to come. But despite how impactful and significant Beyoncé’s contribution to country music history is at this moment, the gatekeepers of the genre are feigning Gandalf the Grey, shouting, “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”
It feels strange and silly to rush to the defense of one of the most successful albums in music history. Cowboy Carter has 11 nominations at the upcoming 67th Grammy Awards, and Beyoncé is the first Black woman to top Billboard’s Best Country Albums chart. Considering these accolades, in addition to the vast sea of others under the album’s belt, it would be easy to simply ignore the small puddle of people who have negative or less-than-kind responses to Cowboy Carter. Here lies my dilemma: A well-placed puddle can still cause a big mess.
None of the negative bullshit is slowing down the momentum of the mass Black migration back into traditional American genres — hello, we have always been here — that is being accelerated by Cowboy Carter. But it is mission-critical that we examine the full implications of both the subtle and the blatant rejection of Beyoncé’s contribution to a genre with a rich yet sordid past. The truth is that Beyoncé will be in her bag regardless, but when the CMA Awards neglected to recognize Cowboy Carter in any capacity despite its irrefutable commercial success, they were blowing a dog whistle that seemed to whisper: “Fuck you. Fuck ya fans. And fuck the horse you rode in on.”
I don’t think any of us were surprised by the snub. After all, the CMAs are kind of the genesis of Cowboy Carter. In 2016 Beyoncé hit the stage at the Country Music Association’s annual ceremony alongside The Chicks to perform an extra twangy rendition of her debut country ballad “Daddy Lessons” from her acclaimed album Lemonade. In the run up to the awards, the Beyhive speculated a nomination for “Daddy Lessons,” and although the nom never arrived, most of us were assuaged by her being invited to perform at the awards show that year. Looking back, it seems as if the performance was the CMA’s pacifier to Black fans and allies who have long criticized the institution’s lack of inclusivity. If only we had the foresight to read the writing on the wall then: “We will never give you your flowers, but you can sing and dance for us a little bit.” Bread and circuses, I suppose.
Beyoncé has never made a public statement fully disclosing what went on behind the scenes of that performance. The New York Times published a piece that acknowledged its polarizing nature, and despite doing their best to remain neutral, seemed to highlight the ridiculous and racist nature of the complaints. We can safely assume that Beyoncé alludes to this criticism and backlash on Track 1 of Cowboy Carter, “Ameriican Requiem,” with the lyrics: “They used to say I spoke too country / Then the rejection came, said I wasn’t country ’nough / Said I wouldn’t saddle up, but / If that ain’t country, tell me, what is?”
Let’s zoom out for a moment and consider both of Beyoncé’s CMA snubs in light of some condemnable stats about the institution — because frankly, all the Luke Bryans out there may be tempted to say, “Lots of people get snubbed.” (More on that later.) In 2024, the CMA held its 58th annual Awards ceremony. Within those — and I can’t stress this enough — FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS, only four Black artists have won awards in the major categories. Four.
Charley Pride was the first, with dual Entertainer of the Year and Male Vocalist of the Year wins in 1971 and a Male Vocalist repeat in 1972. But it didn’t happen again until 2009 when Darius Rucker took home New Artist of the Year; the next Black winner was Jimmie Allen, 2021’s New Artist of the Year. And in 2023 Tracy Chapman became the first Black woman and songwriter to receive a CMA for Song of the Year. What’s notable about the Chapman win is that her awarded song “Fast Car” was out for 35 years before it was recognized by the CMAs. And the only reason we can conclude she finally got her due was because Luke Combs’ cover of it soared through the charts upon its release.
If the CMA wasn’t constantly trying to dodge allegations of racism, they would have overlooked Chapman altogether and awarded a young white man for a song a Black woman wrote before he was born. This criticism is in no way a dig at Combs, who has been extremely vocal about his adoration for Chapman and credits her as a major influence on his career. His cover is delightful and maintains the integrity of the original. Moreover, I’m emphasizing the pattern of white supremacy that is sewn into the American country music identity — one that wrongly enables white artists to be portrayed as the proprietors of the genre and everyone else to be squatters.
When country star Luke Bryan weighed in on why Beyoncé was snubbed, he answered in a way that we’ve grown accustomed to passive “nice” white guys answering when they refuse to apply the most miniscule molecule of critical thinking to complex topics regarding race and gender. In an earnest tone, Bryan protested to Sirius XM radio host Andy Cohen that “everybody loved that Beyoncé made a country album — nobody’s mad about it.” But then he argued that if she wants to be accepted by those in the country music industry, she needs to “come be country with us a little bit” and “come to an award show and high-five us.” There’s a crap-ton to unpack here folks, so strap in.
First of all, this is an obtuse thing to say from an individual who literally shared the same stage as Beyoncé at the CMAs in 2016. But maybe he suffers from selective situational amnesia. Perhaps he forgot that the rejection she received from those very hands he so desperately wants her to high-five is part of the reason Cowboy Carter exists. For Bryan to suggest that she could come kiss their asses to gain their respect is preposterous and laughable. One of these subjects holds the record for the most Grammys ever awarded to an individual; the other is Luke Bryan.
Furthermore, Black women are constantly expected to perform this kind of pantomime to earn a seat at the table. What’s important to grasp here is that Beyoncé isn’t even asking for a seat at the table. After being rejected by the dinner party once, she went out and built her own damn table in true resilient Black-girl fashion. And she invited a whole host of other Black artists making huge waves in country music to sit with her, including Brittney Spencer, Reyna Roberts, Shaboozey, Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy and Willie Jones.
The mosaic of artists featured on Cowboy Carter is the reason I wrote this essay: each of these artists and all of their fans who have been waiting and waiting to be seen, heard, included and respected by country music society. For those who don’t have the resources to build their own table, but deserve to eat regardless. When the CMA rejected Beyoncé again, they made it abundantly clear to all Black country musicians and fans that it truly does not matter how extraordinary the art is: They would rather rot in their racism than give a Black woman her flowers. But I got news — Black women know how to garden, too.
Talking 'American Spirit' with Fancy Hagood, considering the impact of Beyoncé’s 'Cowboy Carter' and much more
