A ‘Cowboy Carter’ Kind of Year

The space that Mrs. Beyoncé Knowles-Carter creates in Cowboy Carter (2014) is one of unity, remembrance, elevation, and grace. At the beginning of this year, three months prior to the album’s release, a new but still close friend of the family perished. It was a shock and a surprise to our family.

The gentleman whom we called “Mike” was actually named Wolfgang. He didn’t want anyone to know his real name outside of his immediate family until his demise. He had a comedic sense about him that signaled his playful nature. His memorial service was more stand-up than an atmosphere of bereavement. That’s what Carter does, too.

It is not mired down in the ugly history of how blacks have been pushed to the margins. Although, it nods to the pioneers like Linda Martell. This album is more of a party. Is it a repast for the ideas that Beyoncé wanted to declare to the world?

What she does is interweave pop, R&B, rap, gospel, and yes, country to make a tapestry of sound which resonates.

The power of her voice and her ability to make tear-drenched ditties and all-out dance anthems shows the excellence of this album.

When a matriarch of a family close to ours perished in May, she left behind hurting children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. As time continues, the moments like “BLACKBIIRD” remain solemn, quiet and heavy with meaning. That's part of human nature, though. The party continues. The late renowned poet Robert Frost once said, “In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.”

That’s what Carter does, too. Through all of the backlash and outright racism leveled against her, Beyoncé keeps walking with the regal gait of an empress and the poetry of a commoner.

Throughout this year I have been fortunate to keep going under the strength of my own free will. When I look over 2024 I still think of it as diet 2020. The experience of a global pandemic may not have been the case in ‘24, but my life seemed as if it was stricken by unrest and foul disagreements.

When I listen to Carter I hear empowerment and not just that but transcendence. The album takes seriously the thought of people of color taking their talents and infusing and enriching the genre of country. It is possible to create a work of such deep sincerity and still have a levity that keeps the listener intune to the complexities of the music industry.

The daring and the boldness of this work allows anyone who has ever gone through the tumult of bipolar disorder to rise to higher planes of thought and emotion.

A child’s soccer game became the scene for a blow up between two people that should have had a better comprehension of each other. I just recall some of the lyrics, “I need to get through this,” on “JUSTFORFUN” featuring Willie Nelson.

During this holiday season, Cowboy Carter will remain on replay as I listen to the song of life. I’ve been searching for sometime for a piece of art that could encapsulate this entire year. It’s like the familiar and well-trod notion that years are filled with tragedies and triumphs. Well, for me, there have been far more tragedies dealing with familial life.

I’m grateful for the blues. Every American expression of music from gospel, country and rock to jazz, soul and rap, have been imbued with the earthiness and splendor of this genre. Also, the late great playwright August Wilson once wrote, “You don't sing to feel better. You sing 'cause that's a way of understanding life.”

This philosophical approach brings together the ideals of the music and what living as a human being truly means. Via a variant of the blues, country, Beyoncé explores the depths of the sonics of something some people would rather her not participate in for this. Yet, she did it.

In my life, especially during this year, I’ve tried to process the things that have left me bewildered. I still enjoy this album because it is a celebration of reality. With everything tossed at her, Beyoncé is like a warrior who throws back a grenade hurled at her and those standing with her. This warrior of sound finds within her the strength to keep going despite the acridity.

As a playlist, it seemed more like a soundtrack to my life. In moments of confusion or frustration, I take in songs like “II HANDS TO HEAVEN II” to see what believers feel from their mysticism. As an atheist, I don’t believe in the supernatural but I do believe that Beyoncé injects her songs with a might and a flowing and flowering sense that reflects real life.

As she speaks of “dark times…” and “love that’s blinding…” She coalesces the ideas of how the climate for life should always be sunny even if the weather is stormy.

In all of the time it takes for a year to go along, it is something that lends to the thought and imagination of a woman hell-bent on creating a wondrous world of audio delight.

If I had to select a non-rap album, this would definitely be the playlist I would go with knowing it’s with Beyoncé who could spell the glory of living. Sure, things get harsh at times. Sure, life is not one endless Ferris wheel. It’s not even a roller coaster all of the time. It can sometimes be one of those rides that plummets feet from a high place at break-neck speed. What we have in life are restraints that resist severed spines. Beyoncé takes them to church on “AMEN” and closes out the entirety of the portrait she paints. As she puts a cap on an extraordinary album that may be part of a triptych (along with Renaissance), Beyoncé knows her greatness. She knew in making this album that not everyone was going to embrace it with the acknowledgment it deserves as a “Beyoncé Album.” It has certainly encouraged me to challenge myself and break down the barriers of fear and dismay. It has allowed me to understand myself better as a straight man who happens to like (most of) this woman’s efforts.