(Columbia/Parkwood) Beyoncé's ACT II: Cowboy Carter has consumed my head space lately. It's one-year anniversary recently passed on March 29th, and I'm gearing up for the fast-approaching tour. Is she going to drop a dress code or what? My barrage of thoughts have ranged from "I don't think certain songs mean what most folks think they do" to "She almost missed Best Country Album; where was she?" I jotted down everything that ran across my brain and tried to condense them for this article. It still has some miles. For your convenience, here are the sections, and you can pick your poison (shout-out to those who caught that Beyoncé pun):
-The Cowboy Carter Character Seeks Vicarious Revenge by Whoring
-Beyoncé Feels Conflicted
-The Replay Value Isn’t That High
-Why the Album of the Year (AOTY) Grammy Win Means So Much
-Randomry (If Beyoncé Can Make Up Words Like “Bootylicious” So Can I)
The Cowboy Carter Character Seeks Vicarious Revenge by Whoring
By now, most people probably know that Cowboy Carter was born out of the negative, racially charged experience Beyoncé had at the 2016 Country Music Association awards (CMAs) performing with The Chicks. She was subsequently moved to do a project paying homage to her southern roots and the black originators of country, and to challenge ideals about Americana and who should be in what genre. Of course these topics were at the forefront of album discussion, leaving others behind. Many may not realize that Cowboy Carter isn’t just an on-brand moniker; she’s a character with her own [scandalous] storyline across eight songs. Hear me out: I believe Ms. C.C. is a woman who’s been betrayed one too many times by her cheating mate. It’s not enough to retaliate against him with infidelity and violence. She wants to get inside the minds of mistresses and cause others to ache like she does. Transforming herself into a vixen, she’s a poster child for “Hurt people, hurt people.”
It starts with “Bodyguard,” where there’s hints of jealousy and relationship discontent (ex. “You make me cry, you make me happy…I don't like the way she's lookin' at you”). When the infamous seductress “Jolene” shows up, it seems Ms. C.C. and her man will put up a united front. The teamwork is a figment of her imagination though. The male vocals echo and sound distant, as if they’re part of a dream. If he actually promised to “stand by her,” he broke that vow. Why else would she resort to beating Jolene bloody and contemplate murdering him on “Daughter?:” “How long can he hold his breath before his death?” The Italian lyrics of “Caro Mio Ben (My Dear Beloved)” in the bridge contain pleas for a “cruel” lover to stop their mistreatment. Beyoncé and Ms. C.C. interestingly intersect at “Jolene” and “Daughter.” The former’s interlude has Dolly Parton referring to 'Becky,' the foil of Beyoncé’s vulnerable adultery album Lemonade (2016). The latter has a quip about Bey using her notoriety to gain access to ‘Jolene.’
Despite the events, Ms. C.C.’s beau doesn’t change his ways. On “Alligator Tears,” she ribs herself for remaining excessively and unhealthily dedicated, and expresses frustration that her faithfulness goes unreciprocated. The tone of “Think about leaving? Hell no! Squeeze every ounce of love from my body, yeahhhh” is wonderfully sardonic. This is where she steps further to the bad side (Yes, that was a DreamGirls reference). “Riiverdance” finds Ms. C.C. conceding to the idea that her relationship is one of eternal hardship and mutual destruction. You can’t realistically run through a river. Trying to do so will be laborious…and futile. Yet, she can’t bring herself to ever let go of the guy. So, she decides to *Texas Hold ‘Em voice* stick around and try to comfort herself by dishing out what she’s taken. “Lies are hidden in her kisses.”
Ms. C.C. wrestles with her conscience throughout “II Hands to Heaven,” uttering prayers and chugging [Sir Davis] whiskey to cope. She views herself as someone who was once pure (ex. “Lost virgin”), but darkened in spirit after receiving “toxic roses” and being “chased by wolves and carnivores.” Yeah, that includes you, Jolene. This is reiterated with chorus parallels of horses and coyotes running wild; one is a threat to the other. She hopes to eventually “re-grow” her “broken wings,” but for now, she’ll offer fleeting, but exhilarating moments to those who can intrigue her (ex. Verse two). For a night, or maybe a few, she’ll see “your goals, your glow, your inner being.” The second half of “Hands” is widely interpreted as an uber romantic celebration of commitment, but I think it’s Ms. C.C. beguiling her latest paramour. Earlier in the song, there’s a mention of a summer fling who could play “the good guy,” and they’ll see “the best” in each other. Not only do her targets get a temporary utopia and perfect lover, she does too.
“Tyrant” lays it all out plainly in summation as the last cut in Ms. C.C.’s tale. We hear Dolly once more, calling the character by name and appropriately circling us back to “Jolene.” Ms. C.C. interviews her former nemesis about “how not cry” while enticing attached men. She needn’t ask about bedroom techniques, as she evidently excels there. She even has a signature—the cowgirl position (how fitting), which was centered in “Riiverdance” (i.e. “Bounce on that shit, no hands”). Nowhere near re-growing her wings, it appears she’s added being a fugitive to her repertoire. Shooting up bars, lying to law enforcement, and trying to get away are among her current activities. It’s safe to assume she isn’t with her main guy anymore. “I don’t want him back, but I can’t let go,” could just mean she still has the previous situation on her mind. Ms. C.C. leaves us haunted by a past that’s dictating her present, and we don’t know if she’ll be healed and redeemed in the future. It’s quite sad.
-The Cowboy Carter Character Seeks Vicarious Revenge by Whoring
-Beyoncé Feels Conflicted
-The Replay Value Isn’t That High
-Why the Album of the Year (AOTY) Grammy Win Means So Much
-Randomry (If Beyoncé Can Make Up Words Like “Bootylicious” So Can I)
The Cowboy Carter Character Seeks Vicarious Revenge by Whoring
By now, most people probably know that Cowboy Carter was born out of the negative, racially charged experience Beyoncé had at the 2016 Country Music Association awards (CMAs) performing with The Chicks. She was subsequently moved to do a project paying homage to her southern roots and the black originators of country, and to challenge ideals about Americana and who should be in what genre. Of course these topics were at the forefront of album discussion, leaving others behind. Many may not realize that Cowboy Carter isn’t just an on-brand moniker; she’s a character with her own [scandalous] storyline across eight songs. Hear me out: I believe Ms. C.C. is a woman who’s been betrayed one too many times by her cheating mate. It’s not enough to retaliate against him with infidelity and violence. She wants to get inside the minds of mistresses and cause others to ache like she does. Transforming herself into a vixen, she’s a poster child for “Hurt people, hurt people.”
It starts with “Bodyguard,” where there’s hints of jealousy and relationship discontent (ex. “You make me cry, you make me happy…I don't like the way she's lookin' at you”). When the infamous seductress “Jolene” shows up, it seems Ms. C.C. and her man will put up a united front. The teamwork is a figment of her imagination though. The male vocals echo and sound distant, as if they’re part of a dream. If he actually promised to “stand by her,” he broke that vow. Why else would she resort to beating Jolene bloody and contemplate murdering him on “Daughter?:” “How long can he hold his breath before his death?” The Italian lyrics of “Caro Mio Ben (My Dear Beloved)” in the bridge contain pleas for a “cruel” lover to stop their mistreatment. Beyoncé and Ms. C.C. interestingly intersect at “Jolene” and “Daughter.” The former’s interlude has Dolly Parton referring to 'Becky,' the foil of Beyoncé’s vulnerable adultery album Lemonade (2016). The latter has a quip about Bey using her notoriety to gain access to ‘Jolene.’
Despite the events, Ms. C.C.’s beau doesn’t change his ways. On “Alligator Tears,” she ribs herself for remaining excessively and unhealthily dedicated, and expresses frustration that her faithfulness goes unreciprocated. The tone of “Think about leaving? Hell no! Squeeze every ounce of love from my body, yeahhhh” is wonderfully sardonic. This is where she steps further to the bad side (Yes, that was a DreamGirls reference). “Riiverdance” finds Ms. C.C. conceding to the idea that her relationship is one of eternal hardship and mutual destruction. You can’t realistically run through a river. Trying to do so will be laborious…and futile. Yet, she can’t bring herself to ever let go of the guy. So, she decides to *Texas Hold ‘Em voice* stick around and try to comfort herself by dishing out what she’s taken. “Lies are hidden in her kisses.”
Ms. C.C. wrestles with her conscience throughout “II Hands to Heaven,” uttering prayers and chugging [Sir Davis] whiskey to cope. She views herself as someone who was once pure (ex. “Lost virgin”), but darkened in spirit after receiving “toxic roses” and being “chased by wolves and carnivores.” Yeah, that includes you, Jolene. This is reiterated with chorus parallels of horses and coyotes running wild; one is a threat to the other. She hopes to eventually “re-grow” her “broken wings,” but for now, she’ll offer fleeting, but exhilarating moments to those who can intrigue her (ex. Verse two). For a night, or maybe a few, she’ll see “your goals, your glow, your inner being.” The second half of “Hands” is widely interpreted as an uber romantic celebration of commitment, but I think it’s Ms. C.C. beguiling her latest paramour. Earlier in the song, there’s a mention of a summer fling who could play “the good guy,” and they’ll see “the best” in each other. Not only do her targets get a temporary utopia and perfect lover, she does too.
“Tyrant” lays it all out plainly in summation as the last cut in Ms. C.C.’s tale. We hear Dolly once more, calling the character by name and appropriately circling us back to “Jolene.” Ms. C.C. interviews her former nemesis about “how not cry” while enticing attached men. She needn’t ask about bedroom techniques, as she evidently excels there. She even has a signature—the cowgirl position (how fitting), which was centered in “Riiverdance” (i.e. “Bounce on that shit, no hands”). Nowhere near re-growing her wings, it appears she’s added being a fugitive to her repertoire. Shooting up bars, lying to law enforcement, and trying to get away are among her current activities. It’s safe to assume she isn’t with her main guy anymore. “I don’t want him back, but I can’t let go,” could just mean she still has the previous situation on her mind. Ms. C.C. leaves us haunted by a past that’s dictating her present, and we don’t know if she’ll be healed and redeemed in the future. It’s quite sad.
(Columbia/Parkwood) Beyoncé Feels Conflicted
Ms. CC has her songs, and Beyoncé has hers. Over “16 Carriages,” “Protector,” “Just for Fun,” and “Flamenco,” she reflects on her life and career with mixed feelings. Reckoning with a forgone adolescence and memories of family strife, she reminds herself the reward for the sacrifice is having a lasting legacy (i.e. “Carriages”). Her children benefiting from the fruits of her labor is affirming (ex. “An apricot picked right off a giving tree, I gave water to the soil and now it feeds me..there you are, shaded underneath it all, I feel proud of who I am because you need me” on “Protector”).
“Just for Fun” and “Flamenco” indicate that alas, there’s unshakable grief from various losses. With a lack of privacy, swarming manipulative forces (ex. “Coyotes cry”), and loved ones exiting, she continues to question if it was all worth it (“I came here for a reason, but I don't know the purpose”). She relies on her faith and what/who stands to soothe her. These two cuts and several others have religious/spiritual symbolism, usually within the context of needing strength and/or deliverance (ex. “American Requiem,” “Daughter,” “YA YA”). 2022’s ACT I: Renaissance has these as well. I bet we’ll be uncovering Cowboy Carter’s B-plots for years.
Sidebar: The subtle ways the record’s A-plots are reinforced show how much thought went into making it conceptually rich. For instance, it’s well emphasized that country isn’t without its influences and the genre universe is very interconnected. Tracks like “Bodyguard” and “II Most Wanted” have fluid streams of rock and pop, and manage to fit alongside hip-hop-based ones (ex. “Spaghettii”). Americana is evoked in both sound (ex. “YA YA” could’ve been done on American Bandstand) and imagery (Levi’s jeans; an iconic American brand). The reoccurring ancestral theme ropes together the elements of national history, racism, and personal origin (ex. “Ameriican Requiem”). Consistently hearing wagon bell, belt snap, and horse rein effects keep you in Beyoncé’s ‘Wild West’ atmosphere.
Having a thesis statement or objective supported by sonic threads, narratives, and/or intimate dialogue is what makes an album more than a collection of songs. Beyoncé checked off all three boxes on Cowboy Carter. Working with intention can create a bigger, enduring conversation. This is what can set one solid project apart from another in an Album of the Year award category, but I’ll get to that.
The Replay Value Isn’t That High
In my commentary piece for Renaissance, I described it as an esoteric acquired taste that didn’t have the flexibility for a variety of settings. Moreover, it was lyrically weak and de-prioritized vocals. In spite of its faults, it was addictive once your ears warmed up to it. Cowboy Carter has a lot of the same issues, but with the added pot-hole of a much lower replay value. It isn’t a “no skips” album, as the kids say, nor is it one for an instant repeat.
It’s a requisite in country to focus on instrumentation and songwriting. When Beyoncé wants to accentuate such components (including vocals), she tends to scale things down—sometimes too much. This often results in material not being as "hooking" as it could be. The majority of Cowboy Carter’s tunes are mid-tempo at most and produced with a ton of restraint. “Possessing” isn’t an adjective I’d use for it. Couple this with the content being emotionally heavy, and it can be a long listen. A side effect is the interludes (which beautifully serve the thesis) landing as distracting fillers that only extend the journey.
Part of why Renaissance was habit-forming was its transitions. Some were tasty enough to stand on their own. The tracks were so dependent on each other, they were like Pringles chips—you couldn’t have just one. It was easy to cycle through the LP right over again. Cowboy Carter’s segue ways, when they exist, aren’t as smooth and attractive. The worst is between “YA YA” and “Oh Louisiana.” It’s ham-fisted in. You can’t finish and enjoy Bey’s fantastic closing wail on “YA YA” without going to the next interlude. The shift is abrupt, doesn’t gel, and isn’t pleasing to the ear.
Beyoncé’s core fan-base probably doesn’t listen to country frequently as it is, and that’s without the aforementioned points involved. That said, their patience and desire to re-spin the entirety of Cowboy Carter was thin. If you think I’m exaggerating about the replay value, consider the record’s performance on the Billboard 200 chart. It left the top 10 two months after release, and the top 50 in a little less than four months. It wasn’t on the chart at all by the tail-end of October, and didn’t return until four weeks later. From November 2024 through mid-February 2025, the LP exited the list four more times. During that period, it was in the top 100 once. Beyoncé’s historic Grammy victory put it in the top 20 for the first time since mid-July 2024. The rebound was short lived; Cowboy Carter was off the Billboard 200 by its first anniversary. While Renaissance was a grower, Cowboy Carter is more static. It attends to lyrics and vocals far better than its predecessor, but it has less auditory excitement. It’ll be interesting to see how responses to it in this regard will change over the tour.
Ms. CC has her songs, and Beyoncé has hers. Over “16 Carriages,” “Protector,” “Just for Fun,” and “Flamenco,” she reflects on her life and career with mixed feelings. Reckoning with a forgone adolescence and memories of family strife, she reminds herself the reward for the sacrifice is having a lasting legacy (i.e. “Carriages”). Her children benefiting from the fruits of her labor is affirming (ex. “An apricot picked right off a giving tree, I gave water to the soil and now it feeds me..there you are, shaded underneath it all, I feel proud of who I am because you need me” on “Protector”).
“Just for Fun” and “Flamenco” indicate that alas, there’s unshakable grief from various losses. With a lack of privacy, swarming manipulative forces (ex. “Coyotes cry”), and loved ones exiting, she continues to question if it was all worth it (“I came here for a reason, but I don't know the purpose”). She relies on her faith and what/who stands to soothe her. These two cuts and several others have religious/spiritual symbolism, usually within the context of needing strength and/or deliverance (ex. “American Requiem,” “Daughter,” “YA YA”). 2022’s ACT I: Renaissance has these as well. I bet we’ll be uncovering Cowboy Carter’s B-plots for years.
Sidebar: The subtle ways the record’s A-plots are reinforced show how much thought went into making it conceptually rich. For instance, it’s well emphasized that country isn’t without its influences and the genre universe is very interconnected. Tracks like “Bodyguard” and “II Most Wanted” have fluid streams of rock and pop, and manage to fit alongside hip-hop-based ones (ex. “Spaghettii”). Americana is evoked in both sound (ex. “YA YA” could’ve been done on American Bandstand) and imagery (Levi’s jeans; an iconic American brand). The reoccurring ancestral theme ropes together the elements of national history, racism, and personal origin (ex. “Ameriican Requiem”). Consistently hearing wagon bell, belt snap, and horse rein effects keep you in Beyoncé’s ‘Wild West’ atmosphere.
Having a thesis statement or objective supported by sonic threads, narratives, and/or intimate dialogue is what makes an album more than a collection of songs. Beyoncé checked off all three boxes on Cowboy Carter. Working with intention can create a bigger, enduring conversation. This is what can set one solid project apart from another in an Album of the Year award category, but I’ll get to that.
The Replay Value Isn’t That High
In my commentary piece for Renaissance, I described it as an esoteric acquired taste that didn’t have the flexibility for a variety of settings. Moreover, it was lyrically weak and de-prioritized vocals. In spite of its faults, it was addictive once your ears warmed up to it. Cowboy Carter has a lot of the same issues, but with the added pot-hole of a much lower replay value. It isn’t a “no skips” album, as the kids say, nor is it one for an instant repeat.
It’s a requisite in country to focus on instrumentation and songwriting. When Beyoncé wants to accentuate such components (including vocals), she tends to scale things down—sometimes too much. This often results in material not being as "hooking" as it could be. The majority of Cowboy Carter’s tunes are mid-tempo at most and produced with a ton of restraint. “Possessing” isn’t an adjective I’d use for it. Couple this with the content being emotionally heavy, and it can be a long listen. A side effect is the interludes (which beautifully serve the thesis) landing as distracting fillers that only extend the journey.
Part of why Renaissance was habit-forming was its transitions. Some were tasty enough to stand on their own. The tracks were so dependent on each other, they were like Pringles chips—you couldn’t have just one. It was easy to cycle through the LP right over again. Cowboy Carter’s segue ways, when they exist, aren’t as smooth and attractive. The worst is between “YA YA” and “Oh Louisiana.” It’s ham-fisted in. You can’t finish and enjoy Bey’s fantastic closing wail on “YA YA” without going to the next interlude. The shift is abrupt, doesn’t gel, and isn’t pleasing to the ear.
Beyoncé’s core fan-base probably doesn’t listen to country frequently as it is, and that’s without the aforementioned points involved. That said, their patience and desire to re-spin the entirety of Cowboy Carter was thin. If you think I’m exaggerating about the replay value, consider the record’s performance on the Billboard 200 chart. It left the top 10 two months after release, and the top 50 in a little less than four months. It wasn’t on the chart at all by the tail-end of October, and didn’t return until four weeks later. From November 2024 through mid-February 2025, the LP exited the list four more times. During that period, it was in the top 100 once. Beyoncé’s historic Grammy victory put it in the top 20 for the first time since mid-July 2024. The rebound was short lived; Cowboy Carter was off the Billboard 200 by its first anniversary. While Renaissance was a grower, Cowboy Carter is more static. It attends to lyrics and vocals far better than its predecessor, but it has less auditory excitement. It’ll be interesting to see how responses to it in this regard will change over the tour.
(Columbia/Parkwood) Why the Album of the Year (AOTY) Grammy Win Means So Much
Before I address the title of this section, let me take y’all through my Mariah Carey “Emotions” the night of February 2, 2025 really quick. I fully expected Beyoncé to go home nearly, if not completely, empty handed (particularly in the three major categories of song, record, and album of the year). The ceremony politics were as stiff as her competition. Somehow, I kept the faith of a mustard seed I was wrong. I felt torn when she received Best Country Album. It was a surprising feat, but artists don’t usually get "the big daddy" if they win in their nominated genre. I rapidly grew incensed, thinking, “They’re never going to give it (i.e. AOTY) to her, are they? They’ll keep being condescending and patronizing her.” I couldn’t bask in the accomplishment. It was a familiar sensation; Beyoncé attaining the most trophies ever in 2023 was sort of tainted to me. I wondered if I was being ungrateful, but Cynthia Erivo sharing and perfectly wording my sentiments told me I wasn’t alone then.
I almost turned the 2025 broadcast off, but my instincts said “Hang on.” Los Angeles wildfire heroes Chief Anthony Marrone and Captain Sheila Kelliher Berkoh presented Album of the Year. I should’ve known Bey nabbed it when the captain adorably gasped and pressed the envelope to her heart. I always pictured I’d jump up and scream, but I was frozen. I stared at the screen in disbelief, with my mouth agape and my hands on my chest. I was breathing briskly and deeply. My brain yelled “Hey! It’s finally happening! Hurry, connect to your body and take this in! You can’t get these nanoseconds back!” It wasn’t registering (I still can’t process it). The show credits rolled, and I paced the floor in a fog. A throat lump developed, as I thought about Beyoncé’s professional ride. It became tears upon seeing a tender X post.
Grammy host Trevor Noah explained the audience’s electric jubilance on his podcast What Now?: “It’s her personal journey…It was amazing that the underdog won. It’s wild to say that Beyoncé was an underdog, but that’s what it felt like in the room…People were like, “Damn, she did it!" And I know people are like “Yeah, but it’s Beyoncé,”…no, no, no…we’ve been on this journey…it was just a magical, real moment to be a part of (in full circle, an elated Erivo was there).”
Folks think Beyoncé supporters have griped about the Grammys simply because their favorite artist hadn’t prevailed. No. It wasn’t only the disappointment of the losses, but the reasons behind them. Beginning in 2009, Beyoncé’s had a total of five shots at AOTY. Five. The selected projects were nuanced, eclectic, and culturally-specific. Discourse about their social and political meanings surrounded them, and they struck a profound chord with their intended audience. Again, things that should give you an edge in a Grammy race, but no dice. Adele was baffled her LP 25 trumped Lemonade in 2017, and rhetorically asked the backstage press, “What the f**k does she have to do to win album of the year?”
For 16 years, Beyoncé watched artists that were in grade school when she rose to fame snag the prize repeatedly. The difference between her and them? Most notably, her race/ethnicity. It’s hard to convince some there’s a problem when she’s so lauded, but that’s just it—does it make logical sense the person with the most Grammys was without the pinnacle award? Is that not fishy? Jay-Z pointed out this absurdity while accepting his own Global Impact honor in 2024. His speech concentrated on biases that led to significant works being overlooked, and Bey was an example.
In the Grammy’s 67-year history, 12 black artists have obtained Album of the Year. Four of those were women; the last was Lauryn Hill in 1999. Hill was also the first hip-hop performer (a predominantly black genre) to win it. That’s striking. For Beyoncé specifically, it’s telling what categories she’s been acknowledged in. The role of race/ethnicity was apparent in the Lemonade era. She submitted the applicable “Daddy Lessons” and “Don’t Hurt Yourself” for consideration in the country and rock fields respectively. Committee members accused her of deliberately recording the songs to “run the table” on nominations. When white artists explore genres, it’s praised, called “innovative,” and they get nods. In 2023, Grammy voters didn’t pick her because she’s “already won” and “every time she does something new, it’s a big event and everyone’s supposed to quake in their shoes — it’s a little too portentous.” Clearly, they had no objection to handing others multiple recognitions. And why is having buzz and enthusiastic reception an indictment? It’s as if AOTY was withheld to humble her. Who do you think you are, black woman? *Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie voice* You can have our adulation, but not too much adulation. You’ll go as far as we decide. You’ll drive in the lanes we say you can. Know your place.
Before I address the title of this section, let me take y’all through my Mariah Carey “Emotions” the night of February 2, 2025 really quick. I fully expected Beyoncé to go home nearly, if not completely, empty handed (particularly in the three major categories of song, record, and album of the year). The ceremony politics were as stiff as her competition. Somehow, I kept the faith of a mustard seed I was wrong. I felt torn when she received Best Country Album. It was a surprising feat, but artists don’t usually get "the big daddy" if they win in their nominated genre. I rapidly grew incensed, thinking, “They’re never going to give it (i.e. AOTY) to her, are they? They’ll keep being condescending and patronizing her.” I couldn’t bask in the accomplishment. It was a familiar sensation; Beyoncé attaining the most trophies ever in 2023 was sort of tainted to me. I wondered if I was being ungrateful, but Cynthia Erivo sharing and perfectly wording my sentiments told me I wasn’t alone then.
I almost turned the 2025 broadcast off, but my instincts said “Hang on.” Los Angeles wildfire heroes Chief Anthony Marrone and Captain Sheila Kelliher Berkoh presented Album of the Year. I should’ve known Bey nabbed it when the captain adorably gasped and pressed the envelope to her heart. I always pictured I’d jump up and scream, but I was frozen. I stared at the screen in disbelief, with my mouth agape and my hands on my chest. I was breathing briskly and deeply. My brain yelled “Hey! It’s finally happening! Hurry, connect to your body and take this in! You can’t get these nanoseconds back!” It wasn’t registering (I still can’t process it). The show credits rolled, and I paced the floor in a fog. A throat lump developed, as I thought about Beyoncé’s professional ride. It became tears upon seeing a tender X post.
Grammy host Trevor Noah explained the audience’s electric jubilance on his podcast What Now?: “It’s her personal journey…It was amazing that the underdog won. It’s wild to say that Beyoncé was an underdog, but that’s what it felt like in the room…People were like, “Damn, she did it!" And I know people are like “Yeah, but it’s Beyoncé,”…no, no, no…we’ve been on this journey…it was just a magical, real moment to be a part of (in full circle, an elated Erivo was there).”
Folks think Beyoncé supporters have griped about the Grammys simply because their favorite artist hadn’t prevailed. No. It wasn’t only the disappointment of the losses, but the reasons behind them. Beginning in 2009, Beyoncé’s had a total of five shots at AOTY. Five. The selected projects were nuanced, eclectic, and culturally-specific. Discourse about their social and political meanings surrounded them, and they struck a profound chord with their intended audience. Again, things that should give you an edge in a Grammy race, but no dice. Adele was baffled her LP 25 trumped Lemonade in 2017, and rhetorically asked the backstage press, “What the f**k does she have to do to win album of the year?”
For 16 years, Beyoncé watched artists that were in grade school when she rose to fame snag the prize repeatedly. The difference between her and them? Most notably, her race/ethnicity. It’s hard to convince some there’s a problem when she’s so lauded, but that’s just it—does it make logical sense the person with the most Grammys was without the pinnacle award? Is that not fishy? Jay-Z pointed out this absurdity while accepting his own Global Impact honor in 2024. His speech concentrated on biases that led to significant works being overlooked, and Bey was an example.
In the Grammy’s 67-year history, 12 black artists have obtained Album of the Year. Four of those were women; the last was Lauryn Hill in 1999. Hill was also the first hip-hop performer (a predominantly black genre) to win it. That’s striking. For Beyoncé specifically, it’s telling what categories she’s been acknowledged in. The role of race/ethnicity was apparent in the Lemonade era. She submitted the applicable “Daddy Lessons” and “Don’t Hurt Yourself” for consideration in the country and rock fields respectively. Committee members accused her of deliberately recording the songs to “run the table” on nominations. When white artists explore genres, it’s praised, called “innovative,” and they get nods. In 2023, Grammy voters didn’t pick her because she’s “already won” and “every time she does something new, it’s a big event and everyone’s supposed to quake in their shoes — it’s a little too portentous.” Clearly, they had no objection to handing others multiple recognitions. And why is having buzz and enthusiastic reception an indictment? It’s as if AOTY was withheld to humble her. Who do you think you are, black woman? *Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie voice* You can have our adulation, but not too much adulation. You’ll go as far as we decide. You’ll drive in the lanes we say you can. Know your place.
(Kevin Winter/Getty) Beyoncé has a demure and unaffected demeanor, but I think it bothered her. The Lemonade loss likely stung the most, given its emotional weight. She sent writer Myles E. Johnson yellow flowers with a lemon slice base for his op-ed “What Beyoncé Won Was Bigger Than a Grammy.” In it, he details how the album was a love letter to black women, and why the Recording Academy wouldn’t reward it. She raps “AOTY, I ain’t win, I ain’t stuntin’ ‘bout them” on Cowboy Carter’s “Sweet Honey Buckin’.” However, she states “The rejection came…plant my bare feet on solid ground for years, they don’t know how hard I had to fight for this when I sing my song” on “Ameriican Requiem.” Beyoncé is understandably angry, insulted, and sad she’s been refused a seat at the table and at the notion she hadn’t earned her spot.
It may be salt in the wound that it arguably took inclusion initiatives to turn the tide. The Grammy’s first black president and CEO Harvey Mason Jr. announced in the telecast that the academy increased its overall voters to 13,000. In that number was a surge of younger individuals, women, and people of color. This could be why the Best Country Album scoop happened as well. Representation matters, and now supposedly, people were in the room that cared “Daddy Lessons” was arbitrarily dismissed by prior committees and Cowboy Carter was snubbed by country music award entities. The CMAs replied to being called out by Cowboy Carter and its media coverage by doubling down. The LP met eligibility criteria, but it didn’t garner a single nomination. The Academy of Country Music awards had the same energy. This, after a lengthy season of racist social media attacks and country radio ignoring Beyoncé’s cuts. Singer Luke Bryan had the nerve to say on Andy Cohen Live, “If you’re gonna make country albums, come into our world and be country with us a little bit.” As if she isn’t a proud Texan who was mistreated being in “their world.”
These things in mind, it’s apposite Cowboy Carter was the one to secure Album of the Year. Its subjects of racism and genre constructs are part of what blocked Beyoncé from a win. With this project and its triumph, she was able to get a bit of justice—both for herself and the black country talents she sought to highlight. Akin to Lemonade, she took her pain and used it to exalt others. Linda Martell was unsung as the first black woman to perform at the Grand Ole Opry, and later quit the business partially because of racism. She now will have a Grammy certificate. Current acts Shaboozey, Brittney Spencer, Reyna Roberts, Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy, and Willie Jones will too. They’ve reportedly seen an uptick in streams in the last year. What’s more, Beyoncé becoming the first black artist to have Best Country Album was a stunning way to start Black History Month. Her 13-year-old daughter Blue Ivy being a witness made it sweeter. BHM 2024, the doting mother was named the first black artist to have a #1 song on Billboard’s Hot County chart (i.e. “Texas Hold ‘Em”).
Beyoncé’s peregrination to an Album of the Year Grammy hurts and is bittersweet, but it’s also glorious. In the hours after the ceremony, I kept thinking of the “Blackbird” lyric “You were only waiting for this moment to arise.” So did Beyoncé; I cried all over again when I saw she used it in an exultant reel. 16 years and "16 Carriages"…how apt is it that a song about her hard work and legacy was used for her Grammy visualizer and audio? Before I wrap this section up, let me say it was a nice touch (and a great giveaway) that Taylor Swift presented Best Country Album. She and Beyoncé dominated 2023 with their tours and concert films, and were relentlessly compared. Furthermore, Swift had her own musical transition from country to pop.
Randomry (If Beyoncé Can Make Up Words Like “Bootylicious” So Can I)
1-What are my favorite songs? I’m so glad you asked! “II Most Wanted,” “YA YA,” “Tyrant” (why does everyone “sleep on it” like Danity Kane? It’s so hot and lusty) “16 Carriages,” “Bodyguard,” and “Alligator Tears.”
2-“Ameriican Requiem” is debatably Beyoncé’s best album opener. You need a breather after listening to it. The psychedelic/stadium anthem rock backdrop conjures visuals of 1960’s protests. It’s perfect for the poetic lyrical history lesson on black American life. The musical build and wide vocal palette are everything. I’m especially obsessed with the lower harmonies at the beginning. So many peaks, valleys, and different textures throughout.
3- “16 Carriages” and “Texas Hold ‘Em” were excellent choices for debut singles, as
they showed both sides of the country coin. “Carriages” had the quintessential poignant songwriting, while “Texas” gave us the banjos, sing-along chanting backgrounds, bars and cards, and line dance vibes. I love how “Texas” has a syrupy, sultry switch to R&B at the end.
4-Folks don’t talk about “Bodyguard” enough for me. Is it related to “II Most Wanted?” They both mention shotguns and have a “road trip with the top down” feel. Also, is that Taylor Allison Swift I hear doing the opening “aahs?”
5-I understand why some wanted Beyoncé to cover “Jolene” as is, but her begging post-Lemonade would sound degrading. Besides, the new lyrics fit her better, and involving the man in the narrative was an interesting twist. The “I raised that man” line was cringe-worthy though. Male arrested development and partner/mother duality is a problematic phenomena. Anyhow, the faded harmonica, claps, and voice yelling “Jolene” gives the cut a cool and ominous western face-off aura.
6- The strings on “Daughter” are so dynamic! They’re menacing one minute, anguished and sympathetic the next. It helps portray Ms. C.C.’s internal conflict. Against Beyoncé’s operatic vocals, it deliciously dramatic. It gives Phantom of the Opera. Christine! “Daughter” and “II Hands to Heaven” are connected musically by the same whining string instrument.
It may be salt in the wound that it arguably took inclusion initiatives to turn the tide. The Grammy’s first black president and CEO Harvey Mason Jr. announced in the telecast that the academy increased its overall voters to 13,000. In that number was a surge of younger individuals, women, and people of color. This could be why the Best Country Album scoop happened as well. Representation matters, and now supposedly, people were in the room that cared “Daddy Lessons” was arbitrarily dismissed by prior committees and Cowboy Carter was snubbed by country music award entities. The CMAs replied to being called out by Cowboy Carter and its media coverage by doubling down. The LP met eligibility criteria, but it didn’t garner a single nomination. The Academy of Country Music awards had the same energy. This, after a lengthy season of racist social media attacks and country radio ignoring Beyoncé’s cuts. Singer Luke Bryan had the nerve to say on Andy Cohen Live, “If you’re gonna make country albums, come into our world and be country with us a little bit.” As if she isn’t a proud Texan who was mistreated being in “their world.”
These things in mind, it’s apposite Cowboy Carter was the one to secure Album of the Year. Its subjects of racism and genre constructs are part of what blocked Beyoncé from a win. With this project and its triumph, she was able to get a bit of justice—both for herself and the black country talents she sought to highlight. Akin to Lemonade, she took her pain and used it to exalt others. Linda Martell was unsung as the first black woman to perform at the Grand Ole Opry, and later quit the business partially because of racism. She now will have a Grammy certificate. Current acts Shaboozey, Brittney Spencer, Reyna Roberts, Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy, and Willie Jones will too. They’ve reportedly seen an uptick in streams in the last year. What’s more, Beyoncé becoming the first black artist to have Best Country Album was a stunning way to start Black History Month. Her 13-year-old daughter Blue Ivy being a witness made it sweeter. BHM 2024, the doting mother was named the first black artist to have a #1 song on Billboard’s Hot County chart (i.e. “Texas Hold ‘Em”).
Beyoncé’s peregrination to an Album of the Year Grammy hurts and is bittersweet, but it’s also glorious. In the hours after the ceremony, I kept thinking of the “Blackbird” lyric “You were only waiting for this moment to arise.” So did Beyoncé; I cried all over again when I saw she used it in an exultant reel. 16 years and "16 Carriages"…how apt is it that a song about her hard work and legacy was used for her Grammy visualizer and audio? Before I wrap this section up, let me say it was a nice touch (and a great giveaway) that Taylor Swift presented Best Country Album. She and Beyoncé dominated 2023 with their tours and concert films, and were relentlessly compared. Furthermore, Swift had her own musical transition from country to pop.
Randomry (If Beyoncé Can Make Up Words Like “Bootylicious” So Can I)
1-What are my favorite songs? I’m so glad you asked! “II Most Wanted,” “YA YA,” “Tyrant” (why does everyone “sleep on it” like Danity Kane? It’s so hot and lusty) “16 Carriages,” “Bodyguard,” and “Alligator Tears.”
2-“Ameriican Requiem” is debatably Beyoncé’s best album opener. You need a breather after listening to it. The psychedelic/stadium anthem rock backdrop conjures visuals of 1960’s protests. It’s perfect for the poetic lyrical history lesson on black American life. The musical build and wide vocal palette are everything. I’m especially obsessed with the lower harmonies at the beginning. So many peaks, valleys, and different textures throughout.
3- “16 Carriages” and “Texas Hold ‘Em” were excellent choices for debut singles, as
they showed both sides of the country coin. “Carriages” had the quintessential poignant songwriting, while “Texas” gave us the banjos, sing-along chanting backgrounds, bars and cards, and line dance vibes. I love how “Texas” has a syrupy, sultry switch to R&B at the end.
4-Folks don’t talk about “Bodyguard” enough for me. Is it related to “II Most Wanted?” They both mention shotguns and have a “road trip with the top down” feel. Also, is that Taylor Allison Swift I hear doing the opening “aahs?”
5-I understand why some wanted Beyoncé to cover “Jolene” as is, but her begging post-Lemonade would sound degrading. Besides, the new lyrics fit her better, and involving the man in the narrative was an interesting twist. The “I raised that man” line was cringe-worthy though. Male arrested development and partner/mother duality is a problematic phenomena. Anyhow, the faded harmonica, claps, and voice yelling “Jolene” gives the cut a cool and ominous western face-off aura.
6- The strings on “Daughter” are so dynamic! They’re menacing one minute, anguished and sympathetic the next. It helps portray Ms. C.C.’s internal conflict. Against Beyoncé’s operatic vocals, it deliciously dramatic. It gives Phantom of the Opera. Christine! “Daughter” and “II Hands to Heaven” are connected musically by the same whining string instrument.
Hands down my favorite photo from this shoot (Columbia/Parkwood) 7-Fans have a theory “Alligator Tears” is about the burden of assimilating to white cultural standards to no avail. Furthermore, how emotional manipulation is exacted to utilize white privilege. I’m inclined to agree, in addition to its function in Ms. C.C.’s story.
8-“Just for Fun’s” wonderful tonal contrasts subliminally covert it into a hymn, which fits its religious symbolism. Heavenly strings offset a dark piano. The vocals go from grounded and solemn, to light and uplifting with gorgeous harmonies and a choir. I adore Willie Jones’ huskiness. The “Born in the darkness, who brings light” lyric makes me wonder if it’s supposed to sync with “Blackbird.” I’ve gradually fallen more enamored with this track.
9-I think “II Most Wanted” is the most radio friendly tune. I’m completely smitten with that crying pedal steel guitar at the very beginning. Of the featured artists, I was most excited to learn about Miley and Dolly. I was pleasantly surprised at how well Miley and Beyoncé’s voices complimented each other. I heard a beautiful AI duet of “16 Carriages,” by the way. “I know we’re jumping the gun and we’re both still young, but one day we won’t be” activated an existential crisis. Am I wasting what's left of my youth? Am I running out of time? Am I living?
10-“Levii’s Jeans” grew on me after Netflix’s Beyoncé Bowl (yes ma’am). I get as hype and giddy as Post Malone did when I reach “Baby, let me rattle that snake with my venom, denim on denim, on denim, on denim.” Its doo-wop chic is endearing. The “God light” lyric may be stitched to “Blackbird” and “Just for Fun’s” references to illumination. I always smile at “You’re my renaissance.” I posit that Post Malone and Miley were asked to be contributors to represent genre-bending. They have both been in country, but are known for pop, pop-rock, and rap.
11-It’s ironic “YA YA” is so engaging and infectious when it has no chorus. A welcome shakeup in the track order, it’s the only song with its level of energy. I’m having flashbacks to when I side-eyed Bey for letting “Cuff It” be a bright and melodious standalone on Renaissance. Another paradoxical quality of “YA YA” is how it’s vibrant, but has intensely socio-political lyrics (I love juxtapositions like that). The unforgettable “My family lived and died in America, good ol' USA, whole lotta’ red in that white and blue, history can't be erased” is 1,000 pounds by itself. The production returns again to the 1960’s (with sample assistance from The Beach Boys and Nancy Sinatra), when Rock N' Roll was “controversial” and ferocious teen spirit countered the status quo. She gives fun winks to this by listing dance crazes (ex. The swim and the jerk) and distorting her voice like a Little Richard or Jerry Lee Louis-type would (ex. The inflection on “All the way down to New York City”). Her channeling of Tina Turner, her idol, makes me teary eyed. Since this album was recorded in 2019, I tell myself Turner heard “YA YA” and beamed.
12-It’s a crime against humanity that the sexy “Desert Eagle” and its Chaka Khan-ness is as short as it is.
13-The mix and match of a fiddle being against the EDM specs of “Riiverdance” is highly amusing to me.
14-I’m able to hear other people on the background vocals more than ever before. Is it just me? It’s a strange feeling.
15-Some don’t believe that Cowboy Carter was originally Act I, but I buy it. It makes sense, as “Ameriican Requiem” declares the reclaiming and examination of appropriated genres. Plus, there’s the EDM and rock hints, and “II Hands to Heaven” is the sister of “Virgo’s Groove.”
16-The production is smashingly cinematic and visual-inducing. You picture farms, an open highway with a desert landscape, hay bales, and golden sunsets as you listen. You can feel the comforting summer breeze of “Protector.”
17-Isn’t it wild Beyoncé got Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson to be on Cowboy Carter? Epic. They were suitable picks to underscore the LP’s message because they’re revered legends who have reputations for being inclusive. Too bad it didn’t spare Beyoncé any hate. I was pretty disappointed neither artist sung. I’m curious if that was by design, and if so, why?
18-I was hoping there would be something like the duet version of “Daddy Lessons” with The Chicks. The Louisiana big-band flavoring would liven up Cowboy Carter.
19-It’s noticeable Linda Martell only appears to introduce rap and rock songs. I’m guessing there’s a meaning to that.
20-Remembering how country media treated Beyoncé makes the radio interludes hit harder.
21-R&B was sparingly utilized. Cowboy Carter is certainly a departure from Bey’s M.O.
22-Let's see how she changes "AOTY, I ain't win" on tour. I hope she does, and we can have a second to commemorate the Grammy success with her and each other.
22-As I stated before, Cowboy Carter has a wide vocal palette where Beyoncé’s layered textures are showcased. She isn’t a "backseat baby" like she was on Renaissance. I’m infatuated with her rock-style, animalistic roars and howls (ex. “Ameriican Requiem,” “YA YA”) and the depths of her range. The last “How’s it feel…to be…adored?” on “Alligator Tears” is insane. Sometimes it takes me aback it’s same person delivering the celestial and plumose moments (ex. The aria on “Daughter”).
If you’ve come this far, I thank you and applaud your endurance to “git ‘er done.” We’re going on tour y’all! See you there!
8-“Just for Fun’s” wonderful tonal contrasts subliminally covert it into a hymn, which fits its religious symbolism. Heavenly strings offset a dark piano. The vocals go from grounded and solemn, to light and uplifting with gorgeous harmonies and a choir. I adore Willie Jones’ huskiness. The “Born in the darkness, who brings light” lyric makes me wonder if it’s supposed to sync with “Blackbird.” I’ve gradually fallen more enamored with this track.
9-I think “II Most Wanted” is the most radio friendly tune. I’m completely smitten with that crying pedal steel guitar at the very beginning. Of the featured artists, I was most excited to learn about Miley and Dolly. I was pleasantly surprised at how well Miley and Beyoncé’s voices complimented each other. I heard a beautiful AI duet of “16 Carriages,” by the way. “I know we’re jumping the gun and we’re both still young, but one day we won’t be” activated an existential crisis. Am I wasting what's left of my youth? Am I running out of time? Am I living?
10-“Levii’s Jeans” grew on me after Netflix’s Beyoncé Bowl (yes ma’am). I get as hype and giddy as Post Malone did when I reach “Baby, let me rattle that snake with my venom, denim on denim, on denim, on denim.” Its doo-wop chic is endearing. The “God light” lyric may be stitched to “Blackbird” and “Just for Fun’s” references to illumination. I always smile at “You’re my renaissance.” I posit that Post Malone and Miley were asked to be contributors to represent genre-bending. They have both been in country, but are known for pop, pop-rock, and rap.
11-It’s ironic “YA YA” is so engaging and infectious when it has no chorus. A welcome shakeup in the track order, it’s the only song with its level of energy. I’m having flashbacks to when I side-eyed Bey for letting “Cuff It” be a bright and melodious standalone on Renaissance. Another paradoxical quality of “YA YA” is how it’s vibrant, but has intensely socio-political lyrics (I love juxtapositions like that). The unforgettable “My family lived and died in America, good ol' USA, whole lotta’ red in that white and blue, history can't be erased” is 1,000 pounds by itself. The production returns again to the 1960’s (with sample assistance from The Beach Boys and Nancy Sinatra), when Rock N' Roll was “controversial” and ferocious teen spirit countered the status quo. She gives fun winks to this by listing dance crazes (ex. The swim and the jerk) and distorting her voice like a Little Richard or Jerry Lee Louis-type would (ex. The inflection on “All the way down to New York City”). Her channeling of Tina Turner, her idol, makes me teary eyed. Since this album was recorded in 2019, I tell myself Turner heard “YA YA” and beamed.
12-It’s a crime against humanity that the sexy “Desert Eagle” and its Chaka Khan-ness is as short as it is.
13-The mix and match of a fiddle being against the EDM specs of “Riiverdance” is highly amusing to me.
14-I’m able to hear other people on the background vocals more than ever before. Is it just me? It’s a strange feeling.
15-Some don’t believe that Cowboy Carter was originally Act I, but I buy it. It makes sense, as “Ameriican Requiem” declares the reclaiming and examination of appropriated genres. Plus, there’s the EDM and rock hints, and “II Hands to Heaven” is the sister of “Virgo’s Groove.”
16-The production is smashingly cinematic and visual-inducing. You picture farms, an open highway with a desert landscape, hay bales, and golden sunsets as you listen. You can feel the comforting summer breeze of “Protector.”
17-Isn’t it wild Beyoncé got Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson to be on Cowboy Carter? Epic. They were suitable picks to underscore the LP’s message because they’re revered legends who have reputations for being inclusive. Too bad it didn’t spare Beyoncé any hate. I was pretty disappointed neither artist sung. I’m curious if that was by design, and if so, why?
18-I was hoping there would be something like the duet version of “Daddy Lessons” with The Chicks. The Louisiana big-band flavoring would liven up Cowboy Carter.
19-It’s noticeable Linda Martell only appears to introduce rap and rock songs. I’m guessing there’s a meaning to that.
20-Remembering how country media treated Beyoncé makes the radio interludes hit harder.
21-R&B was sparingly utilized. Cowboy Carter is certainly a departure from Bey’s M.O.
22-Let's see how she changes "AOTY, I ain't win" on tour. I hope she does, and we can have a second to commemorate the Grammy success with her and each other.
22-As I stated before, Cowboy Carter has a wide vocal palette where Beyoncé’s layered textures are showcased. She isn’t a "backseat baby" like she was on Renaissance. I’m infatuated with her rock-style, animalistic roars and howls (ex. “Ameriican Requiem,” “YA YA”) and the depths of her range. The last “How’s it feel…to be…adored?” on “Alligator Tears” is insane. Sometimes it takes me aback it’s same person delivering the celestial and plumose moments (ex. The aria on “Daughter”).
If you’ve come this far, I thank you and applaud your endurance to “git ‘er done.” We’re going on tour y’all! See you there!
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