Is Beyoncé Country Enough? Viral Critic Reignites Debate Over Genre Lines

Beyoncé rides a white horse while holding an American flag in a promotional image for her album Cowboy Carter. The project debuted at No. 1 on Billboard’s Country Albums chart, sparking debate over its genre classification. Country artist Gavin Adcock called the album “the farthest thing from country,” while supporters praised it for expanding country’s boundaries. (Photo courtesy of Parkwood Entertainment)

When Gavin Adcock — former Georgia Southern football player turned rough-edged country artist —
posted a Reel claiming Beyoncé’s "Cowboy Carter" is “the farthest thing from country,” he reignited a long-standing debate about who gets to define a genre rooted in both tradition and transformation.

The short video, now trending across Instagram and TikTok, shows Adcock shaking his head and offering a southern-fried breakdown of why he doesn’t believe "Cowboy Carter" belongs under the country umbrella.

“Lemme go ahead and clear this up — when I was a little kid, my mama raised me on real country,” Adcock says. “I’m talkin’ George Strait, Alan Jackson, Travis Tritt. I ain’t hatin’, but don’t label somethin’ country just to make it chart.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Gavin Adcock (@gavinadcockmusic)

It’s a tone that’s part bemusement, part subtle gatekeeping — and it reveals more about country music’s discomfort with evolution than it does about Beyoncé.

Because here’s the question Adcock — and many like him — keep skirting: what exactly is “real country” in 2025?

Statistically, "Cowboy Carter" might be the most successful “country” album of the decade. Beyoncé’s genre-bending opus debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, Top Country Albums, and Top Americana/Folk Albums simultaneously — making her the first Black woman in history to top the country chart.

According to Luminate, "Cowboy Carter "moved 407,000 equivalent album units in its first week, including 168 million on-demand streams — a figure far surpassing recent country releases by artists like Morgan Wallen or Luke Combs. These aren’t crossover numbers — they’re takeover numbers.

But success isn’t the only qualifier. The album’s DNA is country — just not the narrow kind historically confined to Music Row radio rotations. Beyoncé interpolates Dolly Parton, covers The Beatles’ “Blackbird” (written during the civil rights era), and resurrects Linda Martell, the first Black woman to play the Grand Ole Opry, giving her overdue voice and validation.

Genre boundaries have always shifted. Elvis shook up country. Ray Charles turned Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music into a landmark. Lil Nas X went viral and hit No. 1 with a cowboy hat and an 808. What Beyoncé’s doing isn’t a gimmick — it’s tradition, just one that doesn’t always look like what the Nashville establishment expects.

That discomfort is the point.

Beyoncé herself wrote in the album’s liner notes: “This ain’t a country album. This is a Beyoncé album.” And that’s the real story: she’s not asking permission — she’s asserting authority.

Artists like Adcock are entitled to their opinions. But the facts remain: "Cowboy Carter" didn’t break country music. It exposed how small the gate has been. And for many listeners — especially Black ones — that gate was never open to begin with.

Whether she’s standing onstage at the CMA Awards or headlining her own genre-defying global tours, Beyoncé’s presence in country isn’t an invasion.

It’s a reclamation.

So the question isn't whether "Cowboy Carter" is country enough.

The question is whether country music is ready to admit its roots were always bigger than its borders.

Walter Scott, Velvet-Voiced Whispers Legend, Dies at 81

The Whispers pose backstage before their performance at Gardner's Basin in Atlantic City on Saturday, Aug. 24, 2013. From left: Leaveil Degree, Wallace Scott, Walter Scott and Nicholas Caldwell. Walter Scott, co-founder of the group, died Thursday at age 81.

Walter C. Scott Jr., whose buttery vocals alongside his identical twin Wallace anchored the iconic R&B group The Whispers for more than five decades, died Thursday in Northridge, Calif., after a six-month battle with cancer. He was 81 and surrounded by family.

Desirae L. Benson, a member of the Whispers' promotional team, confirmed Scott’s death in a statement to Soul Tracks:

We all are incredibly heartbroken. It is with deep sadness that we confirm the passing of Walter Scott, beloved member of the legendary R&B group The Whispers,” Benson said. “His voice, presence, and contributions helped shape a musical legacy that touched millions. Walter’s impact on the industry and in the hearts of fans will never be forgotten. 

Formed in Los Angeles in 1963, The Whispers — originally Walter and Wallace Scott, Nicholas Caldwell, Marcus Hutson, and Gordy Harmon — became one of the most celebrated vocal groups of their era. Their string of hits spanned decades, with “And the Beat Goes On,” “Lady,” “It’s a Love Thing,” and “Rock Steady” defining R&B radio in the 1980s.

Over their career, The Whispers earned 15 top 10 R&B singles, two R&B No. 1 albums ("The Whispers" and "Love Is Where You Find It"), and widespread acclaim for their smooth choreography and timeless harmonies.

Born in Fort Worth, Texas, in 1944, Walter Scott moved with his family to Los Angeles, where he and his brother first began performing. The group relocated briefly to San Francisco in the mid-’60s to sharpen their live act. Walter was drafted into military service in Vietnam and rejoined The Whispers in 1969. The group gained momentum in the late ’70s after signing to Dick Griffey’s Solar Records, beginning a golden era of hits that kept them on the charts and touring through the 2000s.

Harmon was replaced in 1973 by Leaveil Degree following a vocal injury. Hutson died in 2000, Caldwell in 2016, and Harmon in 2023. The Whispers were inducted into the National Rhythm & Blues Hall of Fame in 2014.

Walter Scott is survived by his wife, Jan, two sons, three grandchildren, and his brother Wallace.

Watch: Living Colour Electrifies for Tiny Desk’s Black Music Month Tribute

Living Colour performs at NPR’s Tiny Desk in Washington, D.C., in a June 2025 concert celebrating the 35th anniversary of their landmark album Time’s Up. From left: Vernon Reid, Will Calhoun, Corey Glover and Doug Wimbish. (Screengrab via YouTube)

Living Colour didn’t just play behind NPR’s Tiny Desk. They detonated it.

The pioneering Black rock band delivered a searing, soul-baring performance that honored the 35th anniversary of their landmark album "Time’s Up," shook the walls of NPR’s headquarters, and reminded the world that rock, rage, and revolution still live in Black music.

Opening with their 1988 breakout “Cult of Personality” — the Grammy-winning anthem that made political theory scream — Living Colour set the tone with Corey Glover’s full-throttle vocals, Vernon Reid’s sonic sleight of hand on guitar, and a rhythm section powered by Doug Wimbish and Will Calhoun that hit like a fist through drywall.

But this wasn’t just nostalgia. It was history, fury, and deep musicianship in tight quarters.

With every song, Living Colour layered commentary on race, identity, media, and systemic distortion. “Pride” challenged American hypocrisy, “Love Rears Its Ugly Head” dissected relationship chaos and self-destruction, and “Solace of You” offered a melodic sanctuary in a world that often seeks to erase Black voice and story. Reid shouted out D.C. legends Bad Brains before launching into a blistering “Time’s Up,” turning NPR’s quiet corner into a temple of electric urgency.

“History’s a lie that they teach you in school,” Glover sang in “Pride,” over Calhoun’s tight beat. “A peaceful land that was born and civilized was robbed of its history, freedom, and pride.” It hit like gospel wrapped in punk.

The band used every inch of the stripped-down space to deliver something bigger than volume: meaning. Even with amps turned down and stage lights off, Living Colour glowed — a reminder that Tiny Desk’s size doesn’t limit the size of its message.

During their set, Glover took a moment to reflect on Black Music Month and the losses the culture has endured. “We lost Roberta Flack, we lost so many,” he said. “This song really speaks to that.”

By the end of “Solace of You,” the room didn’t just cheer — it exhaled. For Black rock fans, it was church. For everyone else, it was a lesson in what the genre has always owed to Black artists.

Watch the entire performance below.