After more than 25 years in the industry and a record-breaking 35 Grammy wins to her name, Beyoncé finally secured the prestigious Album of the Year (AOTY) award for the first time last month. This, to the surprise of many of her fans, felt long overdue, as she had previously been snubbed in the category despite releasing some of the most influential and critically acclaimed albums of the past two decades.
Her groundbreaking album, “Cowboy Carter,” which blended multiple sub-genres within country music, not only redefined expectations but also ignited widespread conversation. Particularly amongst some white audiences and fans of white and country artists, highlighting deeper tensions within the music industry and its gatekeeping of genre and legacy.
However, this is not going to be a history lesson on how African Americans — through the deep-rooted traditions of the blues, folk storytelling and the banjo (an instrument brought to America by enslaved Africans, by the way) — quite literally created the foundation of country music, only for it to be co-opted, whitewashed and repackaged as a genre that now sees Black artists as outsiders in their own musical lineage (for anyone confused on the roots of country music).
This topic of the exclusion of Black Americans from spaces they have rightfully earned within the music industry highlights the broader systemic devaluation and marginalization of Black Americans in society.
Let’s look at one of the music industry’s most famous examples: Elvis Presley.
Now Elvis’ songs and musical talents were and have continued to be lauded as some of the best of all time, but his success was built on a foundation laid by Black artists who never received the same level of recognition, financial gain or industry support. His music, heavily influenced by rhythm and blues, gospel, and early rock ‘n’ roll — genres pioneered by Black musicians — was repackaged for white audiences, making him a cultural icon while the Black artists who shaped his sound were largely overlooked or outright erased from mainstream history.
Figures like Big Mama Thornton, whose song “Hound Dog” became one of Presley’s most famous hits, or Chuck Berry, whose guitar work helped define rock ‘n’ roll, never experienced the same widespread acclaim.
This pattern of white artists capitalizing on Black innovation while Black musicians are pushed to the margins is not a relic of the past — it remains embedded in the music industry today, as seen in the erasure of Black contributions to country music and the resistance to artists like Beyoncé reclaiming and redefining the genre.
A modern example is Miley Cyrus during her “Bangerz” era in 2013, when she heavily incorporated hip-hop influences, collaborating with Black artists and adopting rap aesthetics to shed her Disney image. Songs like “We Can’t Stop” and “23” helped her gain massive success, but by 2017, she distanced herself from hip-hop, criticizing its lyrics while pivoting back to a country-pop sound with “Younger Now.”
This pattern — profiting from Black music before discarding or discrediting it — is a clear example of how white artists benefit from Black creativity while sidelining Black artists themselves.
The hypocrisy of the country music industry is glaring when artists like Miley Cyrus and Post Malone — both of whom built careers by borrowing heavily from Black genres — are more readily accepted into country spaces than Beyoncé, a Black woman whose album “Cowboy Carter” is rooted in the very foundations of country music. Cyrus won her third Grammy for Best Country Duo/Group Performance with “II Most Wanted,” her collaboration with Beyoncé on “Cowboy Carter.”
Meanwhile, Post Malone, an artist who rose to fame in hip-hop before pivoting to country influences, has been embraced with little resistance. That both artists were featured on Beyoncé’s album yet face none of the scrutiny she does exposes the racial double standard at play — one where white artists can swiftly move between genres, but Black artists, even when honoring the music they helped create, are met with backlash.
Usually, this author would wrap an article up with a question like, “So what does this mean?” But this time, there is no question to be asked. This is a pattern we see again and again. Black people create, innovate, and influence culture, only for it to be dismissed, repackaged and then widely accepted once white people put their stamp on it.
It’s the same reason a slicked-back bun — a style Black women have been doing for decades — is suddenly a “clean girl aesthetic” when popularized by white influencers. It’s why AAVE gets mocked until it’s repackaged as “Gen Z slang.” It’s why the origins of rock ‘n’ roll get erased in favor of Elvis, and why country music — a genre Black artists pioneered — now acts like Beyoncé is some outsider invading its sacred space.
The truth is, society has always been comfortable stealing from Black culture but never truly embracing Black people. And that’s the real problem — not just in music, but in everything.
Ren Hite is a senior journalism major from Jackson, Miss.
