It was 1971 and Charley Pride was about to make history. At the Country Music Association Awards, celebrated singer, songwriter and guitarist Glen Campbell opened up the envelope and flashed a knowing smile as if he had just been told the best news of the day. “The entertainer of the year … yeah, he’s due, our buddy, Mr. Charley Pride!” Back then the image of a Black man being handed the most coveted award for a white-dominated musical genre was surreal. And Pride was more than deserving, having released five consecutive platinum-selling albums and his fourth No. 1 country single, “I’d Rather Love You.”
Pride, who died in 2020, was a change agent in the industry — his hit-making career stretched from 1952 to 2020 with “Amy Eyes” as his final charting single in 1990 — and would go on to open doors for future generations of Black country artists, most recently 29-year-old breakthrough star Shaboozey. There was certainly reason to be optimistic when the Virginia native was nominated for new artist of the year and single of the year at the 58th Annual CMA Awards. Yet after performing a combo of the somber “Highway” and his record-breaking song “A Bar Song (Tipsy),” Shaboozey struck out in both categories.
The losses were enough to raise eyebrows among some fans and social media spectators. Before the Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going musician stepped foot on the Nashville, Tennessee, stage Nov. 20 his omnipresent hit “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” had already topped the Billboard Hot 100 for an unheard-of 17 weeks, tying Lil Nas X’s hit “Old Town Road” remix from 2019 (“A Bar Song” has now topped the charts for 19 weeks). And he had broken America’s country sweetheart Carrie Underwood’s record for the longest-running No. 1 debut single on country airplay.
Despite his record-breaking hit and stirring awards performance, many of the headlines from that night largely centered on the “jokes” Shaboozey was subjected to during the telecast. Throughout the show his name was turned into an ongoing, mocking punchline, so much so that the CMA’s hometown newspaper The Tennessean called out the tired running gag. The biggest offender, producer Trent Willmon, seemingly out of nowhere named-dropped the performer during an album of the year acceptance speech for his producing on Cody Johnson’s Leather.
“I gotta tell ya,” Willmon said. “This is for this cowboy who has been kicking Shaboozey for a lot of years, y’all, Cody Johnson.” Some pointed out that it was simply just a harmless joke. Others noted correctly that the Nigerian American artist born Collins Obinna Chibueze has said in interviews that he embraced “Shaboozey” after his former college coach, among others, mispronounced his last name. Shaboozey, who seemed to take it all in stride, responded in a post on social media later the same night, proclaiming, “Ain’t nobody kicking me!” He followed up with, “I’m here today hopefully living in my purpose … Country music changed my life and I’m forever grateful to it and for it.”
Willmon has since responded to the uproar, writing on Instagram, “shout out to Shaboozey for your response to my fumble and having a great sense of humor, congrats on that 17-Week #1 Song!” But outrage over lame cracks over a name proved to be low-hanging fruit. A larger shadow was cast: the hypocritical othering of Shaboozey.
From its earliest beginnings, country music has always been about relationships and community. It’s a tight-knit scene that can smell a poseur around the corner, just like in hip-hop culture. Black people have always had a place in the history of country music, whose origins can be traced to African American musical traditions of blues, gospel and folk music. Thanks to America’s deeply rooted prejudices and complex racial and cultural social order, “hillbilly music” was used to market music aimed at white audiences and “race records” were marketed to Black audiences beginning in the 1920s.
The overwhelming whiteness of country music has been its ultimate gatekeeper, even during the early days of Grand Ole Opry favorite DeFord Bailey, a Black musician, during his history-making performances from 1926 to 1941. For years, beyond Pride, commercial success as a Black artist in country music was mostly relegated to outsiders, such as genre-jumping icons Ray Charles, who released his album Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music in 1962, and the R&B group The Pointer Sisters, who won a Grammy in 1974 for “Fairytale.” And as for female solo artists and songwriters, going back to defiant talents such as Linda Martell, Frankie Staton, and Alice Randall to the next wave of Mickey Guyton, Rissi Palmer, Brittney Spencer and Tanner Adell, their journey has been an unsung endeavor, at times.
Some Black male artists have benefited from the dominant bro hierarchy in the genre. Darius Rucker, Kane Brown, and even fallen star Jimmie Allen have all enjoyed multiplatinum status and sold-out arenas. But what happens when you’ve been branded a “hybrid” country artist who has become so unavoidable that they have to pay attention to you?
Shaboozey’s “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” can be heard in television commercials and sporting events. Which takes us back to his puzzling shutout at the CMAs. As noted by Washington Post writer Emily Yahr, the soulful Chris Stapleton’s winning single “White Horse,” was a “typical Stapleton hit and released more than a year ago,” seemingly far removed from the dominant run of “A Bar Song (Tipsy).” And new artist of the year Megan Moroney got the nod, but hasn’t had as nearly as noisy of a year as Shaboozey.
There has been the obligatory talk among some country purists that Shaboozey should not have even been nominated for a CMA, given his mix of 808 drums, hip-hop-influenced lyrical cadence and heart-on-the-sleeve honky-tonk storytelling. Yet country has long moved past the traditionalist artistry of such giants as Loretta Lynn, George Strait, and Brooks & Dunn. Polarizing duo Florida Georgia Line rapped on their 2014 hit “This Is How We Roll,” featuring Luke Bryan, one of their myriad multiplatinum country-hip-hop-rock mash-ups that have won them several country awards.
The easy-to-root-for Jelly Roll (Shaboozey is currently touring with the CMA winner as his opening act) began his career as a rapper before jumping into country. And while the guitar-strumming Shaboozey brings a similar hip-hop background, he hasn’t always been given the same grace as his fellow adventurous country peers.
The irony, of course, is Shaboozey first received national buzz when he appeared on Beyoncé’s acclaimed Cowboy Carter. The genre-crossing album was praised for shining a much-needed spotlight on the contributions of Black country artists. Beyoncé’s ode to line dancing, “Texas Hold ’Em,” was an international No. 1 hit.
Nashville, however, was less impressed with Queen Bey, with some even claiming that the Renaissance singer was trying to cash in on country’s soaring popularity without any deference to the genre’s community. Beyoncé made it clear that Cowboy Carter was not a country album. The criticism came off at best as a personal attack and at worst, racially-fueled.
Still, Shaboozey’s success works as the perfect litmus test for country music’s top brass. He did all the things they claimed Beyoncé didn’t do: Built a relationship with country radio, cut his teeth playing local Nashville gigs and received respect from his fellow performers on the country music festival circuit. And yet, he still walked home empty-handed. But Shaboozey isn’t wallowing in one head-tilting disappointment. He is the headliner at the Detroit Lions Thanksgiving Day halftime show. He’s already scheduled a Jan. 18, 2025, show at country and western music’s sacred ground, the Grand Ole Opry. Charley Pride, the visionary who helped make Shaboozey’s dream possible, turned the indignity of being nicknamed “Supern—-r” by Willie Nelson into a badge of honor. Shaboozey is unfazed. He stands on the shoulders of giants.