Two Novembers ago, Kacey Musgraves caused controversy in her hometown of Golden, TX. "It's really not something to cheer for!" she'd smirked to the crowd at Toronto's Scotiabank Arena when she told them where she was from. ("It don't matter where I'm going / I'll still call my hometown home," the superstar sang on "Dime Store Cowgirl" from 2015's Pageant Material.)How her townsfolk weren't the first to recognize Southern sarcasm remains a mystery, but Musgraves bares regional pride as clear as ever on her sixth album, Middle of Nowhere. Half a tribute to her roots, half a tribute to feeling rootless, Musgraves deals in humour and quiet confidence as she cocks back her cowboy hat, reclaiming her crown as the queen of country.Middle of Nowhere is far from Musgraves's first nod to a wide spot in the road, but it's her first deep venture into a wide-open emotional space. Written during the longest single period of her life, Musgraves found power by revelling in a transitory space: not rushing to be defined by anybody — except herself — has the notably blunt songwriter sounding bolder than ever."Ain't nobody's tool up in my shed," she deadpans over wandering Spanish guitar and sparse percussion on lead single "Dry Spell," one in a string of many barnyard innuendos about not getting any. Horniness abounds among the pop girls, but not so much the cowgirls — and Musgraves isn't even yearning that much, just shaking her head at the drought of suitable men, since "the last time, it wasn't good anyway."Modern dating tropes can feel a bit awkward in traditional country, but Musgraves's clever allegories and matter-of-fact delivery make it work. She hopelessly defends a clearly toxic boyfriend ("Back on the Wagon"), sees her ex as an avoidant wanderer ("Coyote"), and has a haunting experience of the iPhone kind ("I Believe In Ghosts") with no interest in becoming a paranormal investigator. Disappointing relationships are detailed but not dwelled on; they're more context for what's made sovereignty so appealing.Two's company, but three's a crowd — and alongside Golden Hour's "Lonely Weekend" and Deeper Well's "Lonely Millionaire" comes "Loneliest Girl." Yet, for the first time, Musgraves doesn't feel like she's missing out, and doesn't need anyone to break her solitude. "No service on the phone and I'm alone / But honestly it feels good," she sings on the Middle of Nowhere title track, a rebuttal to the first two entries into her "me, myself and I" trilogy.While Deeper Well was a moment for introspective healing, Musgraves's peace was often rooted in newfound romance (see "Hell on Me" for how that panned out). Here, she's past the self-care phase and has pivoted to self-empowerment, musical expressions of which often run the risk of sounding like the artist convincing themselves and the audience that they aren't insecure. But Musgraves is genuinely emboldened: "Put me on a poster of somebody who's living the life," she sings, self-assured on "Loneliest Girl," not a tinge of sarcasm in sight. Texas is the lone star state, after all.Perhaps the most surprising — and plain old fun — moment on Middle of Nowhere is "Horses & Divorces," a duet with fellow 2010s country powerhouse Miranda Lambert. While Lambert has recently shown support to rising country girls in a string of collaborations, those tuned in to country tea know damn well that the two East Texans are no sisters-in-arms. Over a decade later, they finally squash the beef as "all whiskey under the bridge.""Hell just froze over," they sing in a tipsy waltz, like they knew the internet would go crazy. Trading jabs, they come together with masterfully comedic wordplay: "I'd ride in on my high horse, and you'd still be higher," winks "Kerosene" singer Lambert, as "High Horse" stoner Musgraves retorts, "A few years ago, you'd have set me on fire." As pedal steel swells under mariachi accordion, its message feels bigger than two hell-raisers putting down their pistols; our world could use some lighthearted head-butting that doesn't necessarily result in friendship, but leaves us less divided.For an album about being alone, Middle of Nowhere still finds unity. Musgraves matches her emotional expanse with subtle instrumentation, but when it's time for bells and whistles, she leans into the inextricable Mexican influence on Texan culture with stunning effect. It's truly inextricable, with ranchera, norteño and tejano sounds running through the record in a way that doesn't sound forced.While Texas and country get falsely tarred as fully far right, Musgraves takes back the narrative by leaning into their vaquero roots. She embraces the Mexican people musically, and professes it on "Mexico Honey" — a badass move to spread love in the face of fear and hate. Musgraves has been heralded for pushing country beyond its borders, and she does so again by reminding us of what falls into them.Speaking of outlaws, "I mean, really / What asshole doesn't like Willie?" Musgraves and Lambert ask before the man himself appears on the subsequent track, "Uncertain, TX." Psychedelia has historically lifted Musgraves's music with heady spaciness (the cosmic "Slow Burn," the mystical "Cardinal") and does so again here, its reverb-tinged twang and cowbell shuffle like a countryfied Khruangbin. Willie Nelson's presence could be stronger on their third collaboration, but Musgraves is in no need of co-signs to bolster her work — it's more of a nod to her peers. "Everybody Wants to be a Cowboy" finds Billy Strings with surprisingly less strings and more Billy, adding backing vocals and gentle riffs that sit nicely in a minimalist groove. "I bet most of these boots have probably never seen any dirt," Musgraves sings, with a wariness of cowboy culture devolving into an aesthetic detached from its blue collar origins. Middle of Nowhere is the antithesis of glossy Nashville bombast, and it's all the better for it.With songwriting and a sound reminiscent of her early work, one could call Middle of Nowhere Musgraves's return to form. That said, Musgraves has never really strayed from her true form, which has always been walking the state lines of country, letting in what's just on the outskirts and, ultimately, bringing it to a broader audience while helping it evolve and expand. With her sharp pen and a deft balance of traditional and modern sounds, Middle of Nowhere is a reminder of why Musgraves is a lone star of her calibre.




