What Beyoncé’s ‘COWBOY CARTER’ says about love, infidelity, and autonomy.

Disclosure: I’m not a music critic, and this is not a piece of music criticism. This is me simply sharing how I interpret a body of work. Also, it’s clear I’m a Beyoncé fan and there’s likely some bias in how I view this album.

In this day and age, the pop culture news cycle seems to be in overdrive. There’s a gluttony of new television shows, movies, and music and we live in a time where lots of people want to share their takes almost immediately after a new piece of media is released.

The benefit of having my own newsletter is that I don’t have to operate on anyone else’s timetable. I’m a working woman, a dog mom, a book club organizer, etc. I got things to do (and bills to pay! Hopefully, one day this newsletter will help with that.) The benefit of taking time to soak new media in is it gives you time to think and take in others’ analysis as you work to form your own. I’ve had more than a month to sit with Beyoncé’s latest album, and here are my thoughts:

Since its release on March 29, Beyoncé’s eighth studio album COWBOY CARTER has been a weekly, if not, daily part of my music diet. Beyoncé wasn’t lying when she said it’s not a country album but a Beyoncé album. As a young woman with roots in Louisiana and Tennessee, I closely relate to this album and its sound. It reminds me of rifling through my dad’s old vinyl albums and my mom doing an impromptu Tina Turner-esque dance break in our living room. It reminds me of the versatility Black women possess when it comes to bucking the status quo and telling the story of our lives. It also speaks to themes like love, sensuality, autonomy, and infidelity. Following COWBOY CARTER’s release, I’ve heard and read arguments that the album feels like “work” to listen to and some people would rather not have a history lesson taught to them through music. But personally, I think great music — and great art in general — is supposed to motivate us to think and learn new things.

To me, it helps to think of COWBOY CARTER as a story rather than just an amalgamation of songs and genres. It’s part autobiography, part fiction while also having an air of relatability. (Beyoncé may not be a “Creole banjee bitch from Louisiane,” but there’s no doubt she may know one given her Louisiana Creole heritage on her mother’s side.) I’d implore people to listen to the album and try their best to let go of any preconceived notions they may have about Beyoncé. It’s hard I admit, but I do think it’s important to do so to fully understand the work. Yes, she’s a glamorous billionaire, but she wasn’t always that and that’s not only who she is now. (This is not me worshiping her, but simply trying to give grace in a world that doesn’t always extend it to Black women and their art.)

The album’s first five tracks give a glimpse into Beyonce’s thoughts and feelings as a Black woman in America (AMERICAN REQUIEM), an admirer of Black women in country music (BLACKBIRD, THE LINDA MARTELL SHOW), someone who grew up to become an entertainer (16 CARRIAGES), and a mother (PROTECTOR and MY ROSE). These seem to be some of the most blatant autobiographical tracks of the album, save for II HANDS II HEAVEN and part of the song RIIVERDANCE. **

To further the album’s thematic elements, she employs the voices of Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson, and Linda Martell. To me, it seems as though she uses Parton and Nelson to speak to non-Black listeners or those who doubt Beyonce’s country bonafides. I have complicated feelings about her leaning on the artists to say “Hey, they like my country music, so you should to!” But I do understand her including them to showcase how people can miss out on good music because of the preconceived notions they may have. After all, Nelson says “Sometimes you don’t know what you like until someone you trust, turns you on to some real good shit.” I’d be lying if I said I don’t rely on the artists I like or friends’ whose music taste I trust to find new music to listen to.

In regards to Linda Martell, I think it was a great move on Beyonce’s part to spotlight one of the first commercially successful Black artists in country music. Martell is included on two tracks SPAGHETTI and THE LINDA MARTELL SHOW. The latter song introduces the rock-infused YA YA. A country legend in her own right, Martell’s subtle twang and wittiness add flair to the album, particularly as she introduces another thesis: although genres make categorizing music easy, these categories can also be confining, maybe even stifling. It prompts the listener to ask themselves, “do I find an issue with artists straying away from the genre I’ve known them to be associated with? And if I do, why is that?” I read a recent tweet where a user questioned if Beyoncé would submit this album in the country category for the Grammy’s or consider labeling it as Americana due to the wide range of genres it touches on— not only is she singing country tunes on this album but she’s rapping her ass off too and there’s an undeniable rock and pop influences. If anything I’d say to take the Americana route, but time will tell what move Queen Bey takes.

Now, she already gave us Lemonade so I don’t think Beyoncé’s necessarily talking about her own experience with infidelity in this album, but rather using her experience — and maybe her mother’s, Celestine "Tina" Ann Beyoncé — to create these personas. Although Beyoncé is rather tight-lipped about her personal life, her music gives a window into her parents’ tumultuous relationship and their divorce. Matthew and Tina Knowles divorced in 2011 amid rumors that Matthew had fathered a child with another woman. (For supplementary listening look into the following songs that give a peek into Beyoncé’s thoughts about her parents’ marriage: Ring Off talks about her mother in the aftermath of the divorce, Daddy Lessons talks about her father’s warning to watch out for men like him*,* and in the Lemonade film she recites the following, “You remind me of my father, a magician. Able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me. What are you hiding?”)

Through songs like BODYGUARD and II MOST WANTED we’re provided idealized versions of love. The tunes are sonically blissful and provide us a snapshot of love at its best. (When you're restless I take the wheel; I'll be your shotgun rider 'til the day I die, We're gettin' high 'til we don't realize time is passin' by) Sensual songs like LEVII’S JEANS, RIIVERDANCE, DESERT EAGLE, and II HANDS II HEAVEN showcase just how unabashed and freeing love can make us feel when it comes to our sexual desires being nurtured by our partner.

Put on a show and make it nasty

Desert Eagle in the backseat

Everything bigger in Texas

Big body, buss it open, feed you breakfast - DESERT EAGLE

Some of the album’s most fascinating songs — JOLENE, DAUGHTER, ALLIGATOR TEARS, FLAMENCO, TYRANT — touch on infidelity or contorting/compromising yourself for a man and dealing with the aftermath of doing so. In the updated version of JOLENE, Beyoncé warns a woman to not go after her man. She sings I’m still a Creole banjee bitch from Louisiane (Don't try me). We know Beyoncé is from Houston, but she has roots in Louisiana. So one can infer she’s embodying a loved one or a character she’s concocted herself. Remember, this is the woman who gave us Sasha Fierce. Alter egos are nothing new to her. There is little animosity toward the man in JOLENE, with the main protagonist willing to believe he’s an innocent bystander who’s been preyed upon. This speaks to how the patriarchy forces us to overlook men’s wrongs no matter how blatant they may be. “What role did this man play in enabling Jolene?” is the question we should be asking. Through DAUGHTER, we see just how far the character Beyonce embodies is willing to go to protect her relationship. She’s willing to act just like her father— hurting someone and feeling little to no remorse for it. (They keep sayin' that I ain't nothin' like my father; But I'm the furthest thing from choir boys and altars; If you cross me, I'm just like my father; I am colder than Titanic water) In ALLIGATOR TEARS, she provides an updated view of the expression crocodile tears, which means a hypocritical show of sorrow or insincere tears.

She sings how she’s controlled by her partner’s alligator tears and how they work [her] over, and through. Throughout the song she repeats the question, how does it feel to be adored?, almost as if she’s asking, “How does it feel to know you have this power over me that even though you do me wrong I still hang on your every word and superficial promises?” It’s in this song that the woman scorned fully takes root and we can sense her suffering even further in tunes like JUST FOR FUN, where she recites I need to get through this or just get used to it and Cause time heals everything; I don't need anything; Hallelujah; I pray to her. Why choose to pray to “her” instead of “him,” the pronoun used in most religious circles to represent a higher being? Only Beyoncé could know the true answer, but my thinking is the woman scorned in this context is tired of depending on men for her happiness in life and is drawing on the strength of the women around her instead.

In FLAMENCO, this character seems to find some solace in realizing she’s at a turning point in her life. A person she once held close may not be granted the same space in her heart that they used to have and she needs help from up above to come to terms with it. Beyoncé sings, “I hope that you know that once I loved you; I wish that I'd known you'd let me wonder; I hope that God knows that I'm in need of help right now; Right about now.” She talks about something being “over.” We don’t know what it is, but it could be a relationship and she hopes that the other person realizes that they don't know what [they] got until it's gone.

In TYRANT, we see a truce at play between the other woman and the woman scorned. The woman scorned is no longer overtly critical of the other woman, but curious as to how she’s able to use men to her own benefit without getting hurt in the process:

One-one-one by one, you hang them high

Your hands are steady and you sleep at night

How did you turn your heart to stone?

I don't want him back, but I can't let go

Hangman, answer me now

You owe me a debt, you stole him from me

I hated you once, I envy you now

Just tell me how, tell me how

Our woman scorned is basically saying, “Girl, teach me your ways!!” It’s an interesting development and makes me think of how respectability politics and misogyny work in tandem to make people look down on a person like the character Hangman when in reality they’re someone who speaks up for what they want and not looking for others’ approval. Beyoncé sings, Damn if I do, dammit if I don't; Lady with a whip, want what she wanna want. And I think a lot of women can relate to being in a place where it feels like there’s a no-win situation when it comes to overtly tapping into your sexuality and sensuality and adhering to societal expectations. On one end you get scorned for practicing your autonomy, on the other you suppress your wants to please others. So, why not just do what you want and what makes you happy? It’s through this song that our woman scorned enters a new phase in her journey where she realizes her worth and puts herself first.

One of the main reasons I’m able to write so much about this album is because I’ve listened to it almost non-stop since it was released (According to the app Airbuds, I spent about 292 minutes listening to Beyoncé the week of May 11.) The replay value is insane and it’s an album that doesn’t just tackle complex feelings about love, hurt, misogyny, and race but one that celebrates southern roots in tradition i.e. TEXAS HOLD ‘EM and SWEET-HONEY-BUCKIN. Beyoncé is giving us one of the most authentic looks at her life as a Southern young girl and now, woman:

and if someone is serving red beans and rice please give me some cornbread on the side or sprinkled on top. Also, it wouldn’t be the South without people flocking to the rodeo at least once a year.

In AMERICAN REQUIEM, Beyonce talks about her being labeled as not country ‘nough despite her lived experience as a Black woman who grew up in Texas and her parents’ hailing from Alabama and Louisiana. I think plenty of Black people can relate to having our credentials questioned despite having ample proof to back up what we know to be true, and this album speaks to that. COWBOY CARTER reminds me of home and some of the best things about being a southern Black woman and I can’t thank Beyoncé enough for reminding us that being country doesn’t have to look or sound just one way.

❤️ If you’re looking for some fun romance reads to further celebrate COWBOY CARTER’s release, check out these great round-ups from authors and creators:

• Cowboy Carter Book Track Match from author Rebekah Weatherspoon

• Country romances by Black authors from Black Girls Who Write

• Books to Read While Listening to COWBOY CARTER from Simon Teen

🛍️ Also, if you’re on the hunt for bookish Beyonce goodies check out these creators:

• Beyonce Magnetic Bookmark from Afro Girls Read

• Cowboy Carter Sticker Pack from TieraMadeIt

• Tyrant Beyoncé inspired Enamel Pin from aBrooklynStory

📚 Plus, here’s more recommended reading Black country musicians and Black southern culture:

• Linda Martell opens up about her ‘COWBOY CARTER’ spotlight— and her bittersweet time in Nashville by Melinda Newman for Billboard (Donate to Martell’s GoFundMe to help finance an indie documentary about her career!)

• How Shaboozey leveraged a Beyoncé collaboration into a solo chart smash by Kyle Denis for Billboard

• On ‘Cowboy Carter,’ Beyoncé reshapes country in her image by Taylor Crumpton for The Daily Beast

• The legacy of Black cowgirls by Aallyah Wright for Capital B News