Confession: I’ve long been in a situationship with country music, and it’s…complicated. I’d like to be able to commit as a fan. But the longer I live as a Latine queer woman in a political climate that challenges my existence, the more I struggle to ignore the conservative views and values inextricably linked to the genre. Fundamentally created by Black and brown folks in the South, country music used to be rooted in raw storytelling and unfiltered emotion—but sometime around the Vietnam War, it pivoted toward supporting right-wing politics. And at a certain point in my life, it felt like something I could no longer support.
That said, if there is anyone I can depend on to push for inclusivity in the historically traditionalist country music industry, it’s Kacey Musgraves. With her Grammy-winning 2018 album Golden Hour (in which she traded some of her kitschy lyricism for a pared-back approach), I was reminded of what it really meant for pedal steel guitar strings to pull at your heartstrings. Her quick wit and fresh yet familiar melodies have made her one of my favorite songwriters (across any genre) ever since. When she teamed up with Spotify to host an intimate performance at the Nashville Palace in Tennessee to premiere some songs off her upcoming sixth studio album, Middle of Nowhere, I knew I had to make my way down south.
As even non-country music fans know, Nashville has a rich musical history—especially since Elvis Presley’s Graceland mansion and Dolly Parton’s Dollywood theme park are also located about four hours away from the country music capital. But before this trip, I’ve only ever known Nashville as Hannah Montana’s hometown and a top Bachelorette destination because of the live music bars down Broadway.
That all changed on Thursday, April 29—just two days before Middle of Nowhere’s release—Kacey brought her top fans into her world at one of Nashville’s beloved honky-tonks. With neon barlights glowing over pool tables, a slow-mo mechanical bull glambot, vintage photo booths, candy cigarettes, and Frito Pies being passed around (per Kacey’s request), this felt like the most ideal first time in Music City for a cosmopolitan girl like me.
It was refreshing to see all types of people in the room, too. At one point, I saw someone carrying a baby who couldn’t be more than seven months old, and I hit it off with a queer married couple who gushed about Survivor 50 and showed off a fresh pin-up tattoo of their dog.
When it came time for Kacey to take the stage, I rushed to the front to catch a glimpse of her glittery glory, from her jeans adorned with tasseled fringes, rhinestoned belt, and, of course, a black cowboy hat. She opened her set with “Uncertain, TX”—sans collaborator and living legend, Willie Nelson—joined by a quintet of line dancing ladies, singing about situationships (all while my own complicated relationship with country music felt, suddenly, a lot less contentious).
Middle of Nowhere, at least according to the tracks Kacey performed that night, sees her as she navigates being single—like, really single—for the first time in her adulthood. “Mexico Honey” oozes with sultry innuendos and invites physical touch, while one of the new songs she debuted, “Rhinestoned,” playfully invites a sort-of lover for a smoke sesh. Toward the end of her set, she decided to switch things up and slow things down with a vulnerable ballad and the album’s closer, “Hell on Me.”
While fans still have to learn the lyrics to the newness, they pretty much went as feral as a cat in heat when she pulled out the album’s tongue-in-cheek lead single, “Dry Spell,” which is about…exactly what it sounds like. The crowd was electrified, singing every word to her pre-chorus: “I’m so lonely, lonely with a capital ‘H’ / If you know what I mean, I’ve been sitting on the washing machine.”
After Kacey took her bull by the horns and hit her cowbell on stage, I knew my dry spell with country music had officially come to an end.
