Somewhere between the disappointment and disillusionment of a toxic relationship falling apart, and the exhausting but necessary realization that you need to be okay on your own before you can truly be okay with someone else, there’s a liminal space. A kind of emotional nowhere. Quiet, endless landscapes where noise used to live, and where you can still hear the occasional echo.
That’s exactly where Kacey Musgraves sets her new album: in a deeply American world made of rhinestones, loneliness, and introspection.
The opening tracks, Middle of Nowhere and Dry Spell, perfectly introduce the album’s two main souls, both musically and lyrically. One leans fully into classic country traditions, while the other flirts with a more modern sound, especially at a time when folk guitars and stripped-back songwriting seem to be having a huge comeback again (I talked about it here).
But even with a few gorgeous detours, Kacey has always been a traditionalist at heart. Ever since Same Trailer Different Park, she’s written about the America she grew up in with equal parts affection and disillusionment. (Merry Go Round is still THE song, by the way.)
That same duality carries through the next couple of tracks.
Back on the Wagon tells the story of a man returning home after leaving, and a woman welcoming him back with open arms while completely ignoring every red flag in sight. It’s melancholy, slightly dystopian at times, I could absolutely picture it on the soundtrack of The Stepford Wives with Nicole Kidman.
Then comes the dreamy I Believe in Ghosts, where the failed relationship turns into something haunting, and the illusion that this person could ever truly change finally starts to crumble.
That track really opens the door to the heart of the album: a run of songs that already feel like classics in Kacey’s discography.
Coyote goes even deeper, painting the portrait of a deeply restless, dissatisfied man, and what it feels like to fall in love with someone like that. The helplessness, the loneliness, but also the uncomfortable parts of ourselves we recognize in him. Sonically, the track feels suspended in midair, almost weightless, while quietly saying something much heavier underneath.
It actually reminds me a little of early Lana Del Rey, and anyone who knows me knows that’s a massive compliment.
He's always looking for
Pretty things that can't be held
Can't return the love they felt
You're only gonna hurt yourself
Holding out your hand
- Coyote
Loneliest Girl in the World, basically the little sister of Lonely Weekend, is bright, empowering, and suspended somewhere between fantasy and reality. It’s the bolder side of the same idea explored even further on Everybody Wants to Be a Cowboy: loneliness and freedom are both hard-earned things, and even harder to embrace when you’re going through a crisis.
And yet, listening to those songs back to back, they still paint an oddly beautiful picture of independence and rediscovered inner strength. You know yourself.
Oh, everybody wants to be a cowgirl
'Til it's five in the morning and it's cold as hell
And the work ain't gonna do itself
Everybody wants to be a cowboy these days
Until it's time to stay
- Everybody wants to be a cowboy
As the album moves toward its conclusion, we get a couple of prestigious features (Miranda Lambert and Sir Willie Nelson), alongside Rhinestoned, one of the record’s warmest and most carefree moments.
The album closes with Hell on Me: minimal, melancholic, but peaceful in a way that only comes after heartbreak. If this track hits for you, you’ll probably love Angel from Star-Crossed too.
Songs for the time capsule
Everybody Wants to Be a Cowboy
Middle of Nowhere feels like an inspired journey, outside Kacey’s comfort zone, yet still unmistakably hers. Elevated by the kind of clean, elegant production that’s basically become a signature in her discography.
