vinylfanatics.com

**Golden Hour: Kacey Musgraves' Cosmic Country Masterpiece**

There's a moment on Kacey Musgraves' *Golden Hour* where she sings, "What are the chances that we'd end up dancing?" over a groove so buttery it could lubricate a tractor, and suddenly everything clicks. This isn't just country music—it's cosmic Americana, a genre-fluid meditation on love, drugs, and the infinite mystery of finding your person in an indifferent universe. It's also, without hyperbole, one of the finest albums of the 21st century.

By 2018, Musgraves had already established herself as Nashville's most subversive sweetheart. Her previous albums, *Same Trailer Different Park* and *Pageant Material*, showcased a songwriter unafraid to smuggle progressive politics into three-chord ditties, advocating for LGBTQ+ rights and marijuana legalization while Music Row clutched its pearls. But those records, brilliant as they were, felt like warm-ups for something bigger. That something was *Golden Hour*, an album born from the intoxicating early days of Musgraves' relationship with fellow musician Ruston Kelly (whom she married in 2017, though the couple would later divorce in 2020).

The album's origins trace back to a creative awakening that found Musgraves collaborating with producers Daniel Tashian and Ian Fitchuk, along with a rotating cast of Nashville's most adventurous songwriters. Together, they crafted something that defied easy categorization—too psychedelic for country radio, too rooted in Americana for pop stations, and too sophisticated for either to ignore.

Musically, *Golden Hour* is a kaleidoscopic journey through sun-dappled folk, dreamy disco, and what might be called "stoned country." The production is immaculate, layering vintage synthesizers, talk-box effects, and Spanish guitar over traditional country instrumentation. It's the sound of someone who grew up on Shania Twain but fell asleep to *Pet Sounds*, who understands that the best country music has always been about storytelling, regardless of the sonic vehicle.

The album's crown jewel is "Slow Burn," a languid opener that sets the record's contemplative tone. Over a hypnotic groove, Musgraves delivers one of her finest vocal performances, her voice floating like smoke rings as she contemplates the patience required for lasting love. It's followed by "Lonely Weekend," a shimmering piece of retro-pop that sounds like ABBA covering Gram Parsons, and "Butterflies," where Musgraves' girlish excitement over new love becomes genuinely moving.

But it's the title track that serves as the album's emotional center. "Golden Hour" is a perfect encapsulation of that magic-hour feeling when everything seems possible, when love makes the ordinary transcendent. The song's talk-box effects and disco strings could have been gimmicky in lesser hands, but Musgraves and her collaborators understand restraint, letting the melody breathe while the production adds subtle layers of wonder.

Other highlights include "Space Cowboy," a devastating breakup song disguised as a gentle country ballad, and "High Horse," the album's most overtly funky moment, where Musgraves channels her inner Chaka Khan while delivering cutting observations about small-town pretensions. The album closes with "Rainbow," a gorgeous hymn to hope that feels both deeply personal and universally applicable—a song that could soundtrack a wedding or a funeral with equal emotional impact.

*Golden Hour*'s legacy was cemented almost immediately upon release. The album swept the 2019 Grammy Awards, winning Album of the Year and making Musgraves only the second country artist ever to claim the top prize. More importantly, it proved that genre boundaries are increasingly meaningless in an era when listeners curate their own musical experiences. The album influenced a generation of country artists to embrace broader sonic palettes, from Maren Morris to Chris Stapleton.

Four years later, *Golden Hour* sounds even more prescient. In an era of increasing polarization, Musgraves created something that speaks across divides—an album that's simultaneously deeply country and completely universal, rooted in tradition yet pointing toward the future. It's a reminder that the best art doesn't just reflect its time; it transcends it, creating its own golden hour that never quite fades. In a career already full of triumphs, *Golden Hour