Jolene needed a warning

Beyonce provides the version we need now

Shortly after Beyonce dropped “Texas Hold ‘Em,” the first single off her newly-released album, Cowboy Carter, the Americana vitriol began. It’s not worth featuring the stupid responses by white gatekeepers of a genre that was never “theirs.” What matters is that Beyonce became the first Black woman ever to top Billboard’s Hot Country Songs chart.

She’d already shown her country chops with Lemonade’s “Daddy Lessons”—and for which the gatekeepers crowed after she performed at the 2016 Country Music Awards alongside the Dixie Chicks.

I’m not including pushback because it’s irrelevant. Cowboy Carter isn’t a country album, though it features country songs. Or rather, it’s a country album that pushes the genre forward, representing the broadest array of country possible with some of the most innovative artists around. Some have labeled the project derivative; I understand the impulse. I’m not arguing about the music on an objective level, because that’s impossible anyway. While I agree with sentiments like not needing to further elevate Post Malone or the looking at social justice from a millionaire’s perspective, there’s plenty to celebrate on Cowboy Carter—including the inclusion of actually empowering lyrics.

As a genre, country has always gone through phases. I used to collect Rounder Records’ compilations of thirties- and forties-era bluegrass, which is a world removed from post-9/11 country pop. As Bela Fleck showed in 2008, the varied strains of country all lead back to Africa, anyway.

Beyonce isn’t interested in a genre, however. As Linda Martell, the first Black woman to find success playing the Grand Ole Opry, kicks off “Spaghettii”:

Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they? Yes they are. In theory, they have a simple definition that’s easy to understand. But in practice, well, some may feel confined.

Cowboy Carter is a multi-generational album pulling from disparate sources who all lend their name to this diverse coalition known as American country. Willie Nelson lends his  voice on two interstitials called “Smoke Hour” because of course he does. Dolly Parton is on one as well, returning later in the album—there’s 27 songs and skits in total—to sing on “Tyrant.”

Beyonce’s country cred doesn’t stop there: innovative voices like Tanner Adell, Willie Jones, and Shaboozey lend their talents. Miley Cyrus and Post Malone round out major guests, which, in my opinion, are songs worth passing over. Many others are not.

En route to 78 minutes of music, Beyonce covers a 1968 Beatles song written by Paul McCartney to give hope to the American civil rights movement and reimagines Bill Whelan’s classic musical with a kick drum-fueled “Riiverdance.”

The album transcends race and genre, though with very pointed messages to white revisionist historians (let’s be real: racist and bigots).

Perhaps none more than her cover of “Jolene.”

This protocol, again

We inhabit parallel universes.

Heterodox voices world immediately shored up their resources and grievances to defend Andrew Huberman after it was revealed that he was juggling six women at once. Missing in their lightning-fast rebuttals was any recognition that lying to, gaslighting, and cheating on women, including one you live with and are trying to procreate with, might be a bad thing, or affect his professional work in any capacity. If mentioned, it was in praise of his expert abilities to juggle so many women.

In the other universe, predominantly confined to social media threads, group texts, and Reddit, women are—again—sharing their grief and exhaustion watching another Famous Rich Dude™ gain credibility after lying to, gaslighting, and cheating on women.

Jolene

My first full experience of Cowboy Carter was in the car, running errands with my wife, Callan. I mention the expert decision to cover one of white America’s most beloved songs, “Jolene,” while also featuring Dolly on the record.

“Did you hear the new lyrics?” she asks.

I hadn’t. I consume albums in a particular way: I listen through at least a dozen times, usually in a two- or three-day period. This comes from my days of reviewing albums professionally, needing to absorb in such a way that my total musical consciousness is trained on one piece of music. The first listen is almost always devoted to getting a vibe, not contemplating lyrics.

So Callan unpacks the story, which amounts to: in the original, Dolly begs Jolene (a character based on a bank clerk who once flirted with her real-life husband) to not steal her man.

Beyonce sends a warning in her remake.

Yeah, I’ll give you your beauty, Beyonce concedes. Takes more than looks to break up my family. I raised his kids. I know him better than he knows himself. I get why you dig him, but look: “you don't want this smoke, so shoot your shot with someone else (you heard me).”

Then comes the second chorus.

Despite the protestations of some fans, Dolly made clear her feelings on the reworking of the lyrics.

Kind of funny watching Boomers get ratioed in the comments after suggesting that Dolly should be more careful about who sings her songs. In fact, Dolly suggested that Beyonce cover “Jolene” two years ago.

Sometimes wishes have a way of becoming reality.

Sometimes not.

Troll the trolls

To date, Andrew Huberman replied to the New York magazine expose exactly once: by trolling the women in the story.

Dolly Parton understood the value of “Jolene” being rewritten. By the time she released it in 1973, she had fought hard to get where she was—and continues to do so to this day. Imploring Jolene worked 50 years ago. Today’s different.

Shit changes. Smart, thoughtful people change with the times. Admit their errors. Make amends. Try to do better.

There’s a slight silver lining: the women in Huberman’s story did, at least, form friendships. Despite the hatred aimed at them—all used pseudonyms, to avoid the guaranteed backlash, mostly from men—they’re moving forward.

Not everyone has that opportunity.

Revisionist history written by powerful men is tiresome. And boring. Yet we must continually discuss it, because there’s real-life harm caused by their actions. If they aren’t held accountable, they’ll keep repeating the harmful actions, and keep being celebrated by other men for giving them license to do the same.

This is how misogyny and gaslighting and pure hatred of women continues through the ages. Not a future worth creating. 

Thankfully, a future that is has a soundtrack. You don’t have to dance, or even like it. Just know it offers a reality that so many ignore, to all of our peril.