top of page

The Influences Behind Beyoncé's Cinematic Genre-Bending on Cowboy Carter

Beyoncé's eighth studio album, Cowboy Carter, released in 2024, marks a bold foray into country music for the global pop superstar. However, more than a straightforward country record, the ambitious project finds Beyoncé radically reinterpreting the genre through the lens of Black musical history. By interweaving strands of country, folk, blues, soul, rock, gospel, and hip-hop, Beyoncé constructs a cinematic song cycle that challenges narrow conceptions of authenticity in both country music and American identity itself. From the playful subversions of "Texas Hold 'Em" to the powerful reclamations of "Blackbiird" and "Jolene," the album's standout tracks exemplify Beyoncé's profound ability to blend genres and bend narratives.


Lyrically, the album delves into both personal and political themes, celebrating Beyoncé's Southern roots while also incisively exploring the African American experience, from the days of the Chitlin' Circuit to contemporary racial justice movements. Throughout the boundary-breaking odyssey of Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé pays homage to the deep influence of Black artistry on country music, boldly reclaiming a space that has often erased or limited the contributions of people of colour.

Several of the album's most noteworthy songs demonstrate Beyoncé's expansive vision, showcasing how she draws from a dizzying array of musical, cultural, and historical influences to subvert expectations and deliver meaningful statements. By examining the sonic elements, lyrical motifs, and thematic underpinnings of these key tracks, a complex tapestry of intertextual references and socially conscious mythmaking emerges, establishing Cowboy Carter as Beyoncé's most intellectually and emotionally daring work to date.





The track, "Texas Hold 'Em," finds Beyoncé firmly planting her flag in country music, both celebrating the genre's traditional tropes and radically recontextualizing them. Hitting the top of the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart, this historic achievement sets the tone for the album's boundary-pushing ambitions.


Instrumentally, "Texas Hold 'Em" feels like a joyous romp, with a rollicking arrangement featuring fiddle, banjo, and acoustic guitar over a bouncy, syncopated beat. The exuberant production nods to classic country sounds while subtly incorporating gospel elements through call-and-response vocals and highlight hints of 808 drums, ubiquitous in contemporary pop and hip-hop. This masterful blend reflects how Beyoncé positions herself within country music mythology while simultaneously reshaping it through her own lens.


Lyrically, the song employs poker metaphors to describe the ups and downs of romance, with playful lines like "So lay your cards down, down, down, down." While deploying a well-worn country music archetype by linking courtship to cowboy pastimes, Beyoncé expands the conceit into a meditation on risk-taking and trust in relationships, given the racial dynamics at play.


The triumphant chorus makes clear that Beyoncé is staking a claim for belonging in country music and America itself. As she repeats the hook, "It's a real life boogie and a real life hoedown, don't be a-, come take it to the floor now, ooh" Beyoncé suggests that her artistry has always been an essential part of country music's DNA, and vice versa. She's not merely playing the game but reshaping its rules.


This self-assured stance links "Texas Hold 'Em" to generations of female musicians, especially the blues queens of the 1920s like Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey, who unapologetically asserted their creative voices and identities when female musical expression was severely constrained.


Beyoncé carries their subversive spirit into the 21st century with a modern sonic palette and incisive social commentary. At the same time, she evokes and challenges the gendered conventions of country music, where women have long been expected to fall into reductive roles. By emphasizing her own agency and power, Beyoncé defies these stereotypes, presenting a model of Black womanhood that is nuanced, autonomous, and fully in control of her narrative.


The music video reinforces these themes, featuring Beyoncé in iconic Western tableaus rendered uncanny by the centering of Black bodies and stories. The visuals become a sly commentary on the whitewashing of cowboy mythology, highlighting how Black people have been integral to the culture and history of the American South West.


Ultimately, "Texas Hold 'Em" encapsulates Cowboy Carter's larger mission—expanding the boundaries of country music to acknowledge the all roots that have long nourished the genre, even as they've been denied or diminished. By boldly inserting herself into this lineage, Beyoncé makes a powerful statement about the need for country music to reckon with its history and imagine a more inclusive future. She gambles that listeners are ready to go all in on this vision—and triumphs.





Two standout tracks on Cowboy Carter are Beyoncé's remarkable covers of The Beatles' "Blackbird" and Dolly Parton's "Jolene." In Beyoncé's hands, these familiar tunes become stunning vehicles for examining the cultural experience in modern America and the harmony of women's relationships with each other.


Her rendition of "Blackbird," stylized as "Blackbiird," preserves the original's lilting acoustic guitar but envelops it in lush, ethereal production, recalling the dreaminess of transcendent gospel. Joined by a chorus of rising female country stars, Beyoncé infuses McCartney's lyrics with new resonance—a timeless anthem of struggle and resilience.


When she sings, "Take these broken wings and learn to fly," in a powerful alto, Beyoncé connects the song's narrative of a bird in India learning to soar with the challenges faced by generations of Americans striving for true freedom against tremendous odds. The added voices of artists like Brittney Spencer and Tiera Kennedy underscore the song's communal spirit, suggesting a lineage of shared strength passed down through generations.


This recontextualization is made even more poignant by the song's origins as a Civil Rights tribute, penned in 1968 about the 1957 Little Rock Nine's battle to integrate a high school. By revisiting "Blackbird" Beyoncé connects past freedom struggles to the ongoing fight for equality.


If "Blackbiird" is a song of solidarity, then "Jolene" becomes a bracing reclamation of the tension between women positioned as romantic rivals in Beyoncé's version. While Parton's original plaintively begs the titular Jolene not to steal her man, Beyoncé flips the script, delivering the lyrics with steely resolve.


"I'm begging of you, please don't take my man" morphs into a warning: "Don't come for my man." Over a menacing groove, Beyoncé exudes icy confidence, shifting the song's emotional register from desperate supplication to fierce protectiveness. This bold rewrite challenges the "jealous woman" trope prevalent in country and pop, which often positions female desire as a threat to other women.


Beyoncé further asserts her agency in a new bridge, declaring, "We've been deep in love for twenty years, I raised that man, I raised his kids." With these lines, she insists that her bond is unbreakable, not dependent on Jolene's mercy. At the same time, by keeping the focus on the unspoken male object rather than her rival, Beyoncé subtly critiques how patriarchal structures foster gendered competition. The song becomes less about winning a man than rejecting the zero-sum mentality pitting women against each other.


This radical reworking taps into a tradition of female artists across genres using covers to subvert dominant narratives and assert power, evoking Aretha Franklin's iconic take on "Respect" or Nina Simone's charged version of "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood." Like these predecessors, Beyoncé rewrites cultural scripts about women's relationships, offering a model of radical female autonomy and solidarity in the face of oppression.


In both "Blackbiird" and "Jolene," Beyoncé masterfully employs the art of the cover to make meaningful statements about identity, history, and power. By reinterpreting these canonical works through a feminist lens, she honors the lineage of trailblazing artists while forging a path for new generations to reimagine country music's possibilities and expand its representation. These songs encapsulate Cowboy Carter's larger project—pushing the boundaries of the genre by amplifying marginalized perspectives.





"Ya Ya" and "American Requiem," two of the most sonically adventurous tracks on Cowboy Carter, showcase Beyoncé reflecting on her artistic journey and the rich cultural legacies that have shaped it. Though vastly different in tone and style, both songs serve as powerful meditations on how music can embody history, identity, and social transformation.


"Ya Ya" is a tour-de-force of musical references and reinvention, seamlessly fusing country, rock, soul, and gospel into an exultant celebration of the southern musical traditions that form the bedrock of American popular culture. Opening with a twangy guitar riff that evokes classic country, the song quickly expands into a lush wall of sound, layering in everything from swampy harmonica to soaring choral vocals.


"Whole lotta red in that white and blue, huh, History can't be erased, ooh-oh"; Lyrically, "Ya Ya" pays homage to the Chitlin' Circuit, the network of performance venues that provided a platform for Black musicians during the era of racial segregation. Beyoncé situates herself within a proud lineage of American artists who deployed music as a form of unity, resilience, and cultural affirmation in the face of oppression.


However, "Ya Ya" transcends mere historical nostalgia. With its infectious finger-snapping groove and jubilant call-and-response vocals, the song invites listeners to the dance floor, reveling in the sheer vitality of post second world war electrified music. Beyoncé's virtuosic vocals slip effortlessly from gritty belting to delicate falsetto runs, evoking the grit and grace of predecessors like Tina Turner and Aretha Franklin.


As the track builds to its euphoric climax,"Ya Ya" reads as an evolution of "Love on Top," Beyoncé's 2011 single that paid loving tribute to the lush harmonies and infectious joy of 1980s R&B. But where that song offered affectionate pastiche, "Ya Ya" mounts a more expansive and politically charged project—reclaiming musical history as a source of both personal and collective empowerment.


If "Ya Ya" is a celebration of legacy, then "American Requiem" provides a somber, introspective counterpoint, grappling with the complex relationship between art, identity, and nationhood. The title evokes the classical requiem mass, a form traditionally used to memorialize the deceased while contemplating weighty themes of grief, redemption, and the hereafter.





Musically, "American Requiem" unfolds as a breathtaking feat of orchestration, interweaving elements of country, blues, and classical music into a sweeping, cinematic soundscape. A plaintive electric piano introduction, reminiscent of a funeral march, gradually yields to a rousing climax replete with stirring fiddle lines and thunderous timpani.


Lyrically, the song finds Beyoncé reflecting on her own artistic journey and how it has been shaped by the larger cultural currents of American. "For things to stay the same, they have to change again," she confesses in the opening verse, capturing a sense of disorientation and the cycle of renewal that has long pervaded American literature and music.


As the song progresses, Beyoncé wrestles with the complexities and contradictions of American identity, probing how the nation's lofty ideals of freedom and equality have often clashed with brutal realities, "Can we stand for something? (Yeah), Now is the time to face the wind, (Now is the time to face the wind), Now ain't the time to pretend, Now is the time to let love in (to let love in), Together, can we stand?"


And yet, even as "American Requiem" uncompromisingly confronts the traumas of the past, it also envisions a path forward through the transformative power of art and community. In the song's luminous final verse, Beyoncé imagines a form of musical salvation, a way of transcending divisions and hierarchies: "Goodbye to what has been, Pretty house that we never settled in, A funeral for fair-weather friends, I am the one to cleanse me of my father's sins, American Requiem, Them big ideas (yeah) are buried here (yeah), Amen."


Here, "American Requiem" reads as an artistic manifesto, a stirring affirmation of Beyoncé's commitment to leveraging her musical platform in service of social justice and cultural transformation. The song's monumental scope and lyrical ambition encapsulate an attempt to grapple with the totality of the American experience—mourning its tragedies and losses while also celebrating its hard-won triumphs and possibilities.


Ultimately, both "Ya Ya" and "American Requiem" powerfully demonstrate Beyoncé's singular gift for using music as a mode of storytelling, a way of exploring the interplay between personal identity and collective history. Drawing on an expansive range of musical and cultural influences, from the exuberant rhythms of the Chitlin' Circuit to the stately grandeur of the requiem mass, Beyoncé crafts songs that feel simultaneously timeless and urgently contemporary—works of art that testify to music's enduring capacity to inspire, challenge, and transform.





Across the standout songs of Cowboy Carter, from the playful genre alchemy of "Texas Hold 'Em" to the introspective gravitas of "American Requiem," Beyoncé showcases a breathtaking ability to deploy music as a vehicle for cultural commentary and personal expression. By drawing on an eclectic array of influences, spanning country, folk, blues, and gospel, she constructs a rich sonic tapestry that feels both deeply rooted in tradition and thrillingly avant-garde.


But what lends these songs their true potency is how they harness the power of music to interrogate complex questions of identity, history, and power. Whether she's reclaiming country music's obscured heritage in "Blackbiird," subverting gendered narratives of rivalry in "Jolene," or celebrating the resilient legacy of African American artistry in "Ya Ya," Beyoncé consistently employs her musical platform to challenge dominant cultural narratives and envision new possibilities for social change.


In doing so, she situates herself within a long and illustrious lineage of female artists who have wielded music as a tool of resistance and self-assertion, from the trailblazing blues women of the 1920s to the soul and R&B iconoclasts of the 1960s and beyond. By carrying this tradition forward into the 21st century with her daring vision and virtuosic execution, Beyoncé not only pays tribute to the pioneering figures who paved the way for her ascent, but also blazes a trail for future generations of artists to build on her legacy of musical innovation and social engagement.


Ultimately, the profound resonance of Cowboy Carter's standout tracks suggests that Beyoncé's magnum opus may ripple out far beyond the confines of country music, fundamentally reshaping conversations about genre, identity, and artistic expression in popular culture for years to come. In fearlessly bending musical boundaries to amplify underrepresented histories and voices, Beyoncé issues a stirring challenge to listeners and fellow artists alike—to expand our conceptions of who gets to tell which stories, to search for liberation and connection across the dividing lines of style and identity, and to recognize that the work of building a more just and inclusive culture demands both an unflinching reckoning with the past and a leaps of radical imagination into the future.


Cowboy Carter stands as a monumental testament to Beyoncé's ability to channel that transformative ethos into music that moves body, spirit, and mind in equal measure—a peerless exemplar of what popular art can achieve when it dares to dream beyond the status quo.

Commenti


bottom of page