If you grew up on country music like me or you are simply a music buff, you will probably agree that what made artists like Don Williams, Kenny Rogers, and Dolly Parton style of country music so sticky was the powerful loop of predictable structure, strong hooks, steady tempo, warm tone, and lyrics that feel personal, woven through key choice, tempo feel, and chord movement.
Don Williams, with that calm baritone, always felt like someone singing to you. His stepwise melodies and predictable phrases land softly on the ear, almost like your auditory system can finally unclench.
Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton lean into narrative storytelling, characters, scenes, and lived-in moments. Rogers tends to finish a story in a way that feels complete and satisfying; as lyrically exemplified by the “Coward of the country.” Parton, on the other hand, has a gift for tiny details that make a song feel undeniably true. You hear it so clearly in “Coat of Many Colors” :
“But they didn’t understand it
And I tried to make them see
That one is only poor
Only if they choose to be
Now I know we had no money
But I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My mama made for me”
It is only natural that your country music evolution follows that kind of lyrical style and tone. For me, I drifted towards Chris Stapleton, Morgan Wallen, Miranda Lambert, Riley Green, Maren Morris, Ella Langley, Tyler Childers, Luke Combs, Bailey Zimmerman, Thomas Rhett, and Jon Pardi.
I remember the first time I heard the name Shaboozey, it was through a Twitter user who tweeted that we needed to support and stream his country song because he was a Black man with Nigerian ties, and we shouldn’t “allow him to disgrace us”. The song was “A Bar Song”.
Not only did it do well on its own, but with its blend of underlying pop and Southern rock edges, it became an anthem, built like a sing-along, almost engineered for communal spaces like gyms, pubs, and cars.
I first heard Jelly Roll through “I Am Not Okay,” and it spoke to me because it owned the truth of not being okay while still leaving room for healing, even if it comes slowly and imperfectly. So, when I heard Shaboozey had collaborated with Jelly Roll, it was a given. I flew across the internet to Spotify.
That introductory, country-leaning guitar had me hooked immediately. Then the two voices came in different, contrasting, but somehow perfectly aligned and it all clicked. No wonder Amen went on to receive the highest level of recognition any artist could hope for, the Grammy.
And as I scanned through the nominees in the country music category, I felt something that surprised me not just admiration, but a quiet, personal sense of achievement. Almost like my ears had done their own work overtime training themselves to recognise story, texture, honesty, and hook. Seeing so many of the artists I have chosen to keep close in my listening show up on that list felt like a small validation of my own musical instinct, my own lyrical palate, sharpening and settling into its stride.
-Written by Olatundun, a PhD student who loves music, science and running, although not in that order.
