Olivia Amplified
In honor of attending the Country Music Awards Festival (CMA) this weekend, I felt that a CMA fest-themed entry seemed appropriate. To be honest, I hated country for the longest time, but I think this was clearly because I correlated country music so much with Nashville. When my family moved to Nashville in 2016, full of teenage angst and New England pride, I immediately decided that country music was the enemy.
Lol! Look how that’s changed. I really do enjoy country music and have especially loved attending the CMA fest here in Nashville year after year. I am also thankful to have some very generous friends who decided to take me along as their plus one!
I’ve also loved watching the genre of country music evolve over the past few years. What once felt overwhelmingly dominated by white male voices singing about trucks, beer, and women is now expanding!
Finally…
Now the genre is reconnecting with its deeper roots and making space for a wider range of voices and stories. This shift toward inclusivity has made country music feel more accessible, more meaningful, and honestly, a lot more enjoyable.
Over the years, we have seen the genre expand and evolve and attract more artists from different backgrounds.
Last year, CMA fest welcomed Post Malone to the stage, after a long music career of hip-hop R&B, and pop-rap (I think that’s a genre). In 2015, he quickly rose to fame with chart-topping albums like Stoney, Beerbongs & Bentleys, and Hollywood's Bleeding. In the past year, Post Malone has shifted directions and embraced his love for country music. His 2024 country album (which followed his CMA appearance) maintains Post's signature music style but wraps it in acoustic guitar riffs and southern instrumentation. Everyone has seemed to have responded positively and applauded his ability to traverse musical boundaries without losing his core identity.
The year before, the CMAs featured Jelly Roll as a headliner, another moment that tested the boundaries of who is accepted in country music. Jelly Roll, a Nashville native, didn’t come up through the typical country pipeline. He first made his name in the rap and hip-hop scene, blending gritty lyrics with storytelling. The song that broke him into the scene, “Save Me” (later re-released with Lainey Wilson) marked a turning point in his career. What makes Jelly Roll’s presence so powerful is his message. Onstage at the CMAs, he looked up into the crowd and pointed to where he used to sit in the nosebleeds as a kid, watching the show while in and out of juvenile detention. He’s open about his struggles with addiction, incarceration, and redemption, and his music reflects those themes with honesty and vulnerability. Jelly Roll clearly doesn’t fit the “traditional” mold of a country star. His tattoos, his sound, and his past all challenge the genre’s narrow image. And while many fans have embraced him, his journey hasn’t been without resistance. Some corners of the industry still hesitate to fully recognize artists who disrupt the expected aesthetic or background of “real” country.
This resistance reminds me of when “Old Town Road” became popular. In 2019, Lil Nas X, a young, Black, openly gay artist, released a viral hit that fused country and rap music in a way that had’t really been done before. The song took over charts and radio but the country music industry didn’t know what to do with it. Despite the song’s banjo-heavy beat, cowboy imagery, and undeniable popularity, Billboard removed it from the country charts claiming it didn’t fit the genre. It took a remix with Billy Ray Cyrus for the song to gain formal acceptance. Together, they went on to win a CMA Award for Musical Event of the Year. This made Lil Nas X one of the few Black artists to be recognized by the Country Music Association.
To me, country music as a genre is very much still reluctant to immense change. On the surface it looks like the genre is more inclusive, but if we study the award ceremonies and key artists in the genre, it seems to paint another picture. Pure country pride seems to be dictating who’s in and who’s out…
Are we limiting or forgetting the roots of country?
Despite the surface-level shifts, a deeper look reveals ongoing resistance. The industry still struggles with acknowledging and honoring contributions from artists who challenge its traditional (and racialized) image of “authentic” country.
Take Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter. Her Grammy win for Best Country Album marked the first time a Black woman took home that award. She also won American Music Awards for Favorite Female Country Artist and Favorite Country Album. And yet, she was entirely shut out of the 2024 CMA Awards nominations.
Why?
When asked about the controversy, CMA CEO Sarah Trahern responded by saying the CMA voting process “leans heavily on relationships” and that people often vote for those they’ve worked with before, not out of malice, but because of familiarity. She added that “nobody has anything against Beyoncé,” implying it wasn’t personal.
That kind of insider mentality reinforces an exclusive, closed-door culture. It’s not about artistic merit. It’s about who’s already accepted, who fits the mold, and who makes people comfortable. And Beyoncé? She worked her butt off. Cowboy Carter wasn’t just any country album; it was a masterful, deliberate reclamation of country’s Black roots. She researched, collaborated with legends (like Dolly and Miley <3), honored tradition, and still made something original and boundary-breaking.
To ignore that and say she simply didn’t have the “right connections” is so revealing of what is really going on with the genre.
Recently, there have been a lot of rumors of Carrie Underwood backing out of the CMAs this year to avoid the possibility of sharing the stage with Beyoncé. After some research, I really couldn’t find any strong evidence to prove she said or intended this, but it does call out an overall trend in the public’s reaction to Beyonce’s transition to country.
The reality is: country music is having an identity crisis. While its sound and faces evolve, race and gender still dictate who gets to be embraced as “real” country. Beyoncé’s bold reclamation of the genre’s Black roots with Cowboy Carter made headlines, and it was awesome. It completely exposed the genre’s discomfort with expanding its definition of authenticity.
Are we forgetting the roots of country music? The genre was shaped by Black artists and other people of color from the beginning. Over time, the genre has favored narratives that uphold a singular, sanitized origin story.
Just the other day at the American Music Awards (AMAs), artists Megan Moroney and Shaboozey took the stage to present the award for Favorite Country Duo or Group. Megan casually referenced the Carter Family as “basically the founders of country music”. But Shaboozey gave her a side-eye and knowing laugh that said it all. That subtle moment exploded online as fans pointed out how strange it is to credit a white family that most of the general public couldn’t pick out of a lineup as the “founders” of the genre. I’m not saying the Carter Family didn’t contribute. I’m saying the story is bigger.
We can’t ignore the fact that country music’s roots are Black. They are multiracial. They are complex. And they’ve always been here. It was born out of a blend of traditions, spirituals, blues, folk, Appalachian sounds, and Indigenous rhythms. This genre was never meant to belong to just one kind of person. It’s time for the industry to stop gatekeeping and start recognizing the vast history of country music.
So, as I attend another CMA Fest, I’m reminded that loving country music doesn’t mean accepting it uncritically. It means holding space for both joy and accountability. It means celebrating the artists breaking barriers, while still questioning the systems that try to keep them out.
With gratitude,
Olivia
Some memories from CMA 2022 + 2023 (can't wait for CMA 2025!)
