An artist’s rendition of singer, Kacey Musgraves. Art by Gabby Gagnon ‘24
By Declan Langton ’22
Editor-In-Chief
“Let me set the scene / Two lovers ripped right at the seams,” country music star Kacey Musgraves sings in the first lines of her recently released fourth studio album, “star-crossed.” In this opening track, Musgraves outlines her marriage falling apart — from the painful split from American singer-songwriter Ruston Kelly, to the divorce itself, to finally breaking free from the hurt.
In this album, Musgraves makes the definitive step to what some critics would call pop music, but others, myself included, would have a hard time categorizing “star-crossed” within strict genre lines. Leaning into psychedelic synths, wild flutes and, of course, her crooning country vocals, Musgraves creates a satisfying follow-up to her Grammy-winning album “Golden Hour,” while following the age-old American country tradition of the divorce album.
The divorce album, defined by its guitar-driven angst and fueled by revenge, is a pillar of country music. Country-folk legend, and Musgraves’ primary songwriting influence, John Prine was known for saying, “Seems like some of the best country songs over the years have come from some of the sadder situations in life — like divorce.” Predecessors of “star-crossed” include divorce albums like Miranda Lambert’s “The Weight of These Wings” and Willie Nelson’s “Phases and Stages,” among others. Through her songwriting choices, though, Musgraves works to move away from the sound of this tradition and carve her own path.
The New York Times described Musgraves’ album as “a tragedy in three acts.” Like any good opener to a concept album, the song “star-crossed” outlines the plot of what’s to come: two lovers who were once happy are pulled apart by circumstances outside their control. She will move out and give up his last name, and he will take his things. In the chorus, Musgraves sings about calling the angels to save her and her former husband’s relationship. “But I guess they got lost,” she sings, revealing a central theme of the album — nothing could be done to save the marriage, as things were always doomed from the start.
Shakespeare invented the term “star-crossed” when describing his well-known protagonists Romeo and Juliet, who met their doom by falling in love against the will of fate. Throughout her album, Musgraves explores the idea that star-crossed love is dangerous and hurtful.
The second track, “good wife,” flashes back to the beginning of Musgraves’ marriage. She sings about waking her husband in the morning, bringing him coffee in bed, listening to his problems and touching him so “in his heart he knows, he’s the only one.” Throughout the song, an insecurity emerges, both in the husband character, who is always in need of reassurance, and in Musgraves, asking God to help her be a good wife, to loosen up and to be more fun.
Throughout this song, Musgraves repeats the line “he needs me,” as she describes their relationship dynamic. But in the outro she pleads, “Help me be a good wife / ’Cause I need him.” In “star-crossed,” subtle switches like this define her songwriting, as she wrestles with realizing divorce isn’t always someone’s fault, and she can’t always be strong.
In “breadwinner,” the couple’s insecurities continue. In this track, she sings about knowing the husband character is nervous about her success and the amount of money she makes. In the chorus she sings, “He wants a breadwinner / He wants your dinner / Until he ain’t hungry anymore / He wants your shimmer / To make him feel bigger / Until he starts feeling insecure.” Musgraves shows again how divorce and marital conflict doesn’t have to be explosive, rather, it can be in gestures and intimate feelings and most dangerously: insecurity.
Both “good wife” and “breadwinner” are stripped-back songs with a pop beat, but their sound isn’t what’s expected after the all-encompassing symphony that is “star-crossed.” The booming instrumentation of the first track takes a major backseat throughout the rest of the album and is replaced with stripped-down guitar licks and synths, creating a constant hum behind Musgraves’ vocals.
The latter half of the album drags as Musgraves pushes herself out of the remaining hurt. Songs like “keep lookin’ up” and “what doesn’t kill me” don’t add much to her story. They also run the risk of being preachy as she sings well-known pieces of advice: keep your head up and what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. Alongside these more preachy songs are heartbreaking tracks like “camera roll,” in which she sings about a familiar post-breakup conundrum — scrolling through your phone and seeing the person you least want to see. What follows is a flood of memories that she captures exquisitely with lyrics like “chronologcial order and nothing but torture.”
Despite some lulls, there are moments of daring instrumental genius throughout the album. In “easier said,” picks of a banjo appear at the end of the later choruses and verses that give strength to an otherwise mundane song. The penultimate “there is a light” highlights Musgraves’ slickly auto-tuned voice alongside noodling guitars and ends with an expressive flute solo. In the song’s final lyrics, she speaks, “there is a light inside of me” signifying the end of her journey through her divorce. The closing flute solo is like her spirit breaking free through the album, something suppressed through her relationship and through the depression that followed its end.
One final track officially ends the album. In this final song, Musgraves ventures into a language other than English for the first time in her recording career. She covers Argentine singer Mercedes Sosa’s “gracias a la vida,” meaning “thanks for life.” As the final track on the album, this song serves as a closing statement to the narrative of her divorce. While her vocals in this track are beautiful in their pitch and intonation, it seems like a misstep to end an album seemingly about finding your voice once more by singing the lyrics of someone else, especially after the daring “there is a light.” Perhaps Musgraves actually had to find that light outside of herself.
While “star-crossed” is far from a perfect album, it fits right alongside the stripped down, yet experimental, indie music of 2020 and 2021, such as Phoebe Bridgers’ “Punisher” and Arlo Parks’ “Collapsed in Sunbeams.” Musgraves finds a seat next to genre benders like Lorde and Taylor Swift, artists whose recent music doesn’t fit cleanly into any specific category. Very few country albums end with flute solos that bleed into covers of Argentine folk songs, but “star-crossed” does, solidifying that Musgraves isn’t a typical country singer.