Beyoncé’s "AMERIICAN REQUIEM"
A Bold Reclamation of Country Music’s Roots and Future
A few truths to start us off:
Country music gets a bad rap (it probably deserves it);
I was told as a young child by my best friend’s mom during a sleepover that I really should give country music a chance (I did in college);
and “AMERIICAN REQUIEM” by Beyoncé on her 2024 album Cowboy Carter is the opening track to one of the pettiest and most multi-layered albums I’ve ever heard.
PART ONE: SETTING THE STAGE
The track runs an ambitious and engagement-demanding 5 minutes and 25 seconds. For the uninitiated, Beyoncé had a pretty rough go at it in 2016 during her performance at the CMAs with The Chicks. She shared on Instagram, “This album has been over five years in the making. It was born out of an experience that I had years ago where I did not feel welcomed…and it was very clear that I wasn’t.” She turned this experience into a powerful 5-minute “F.U.” to all the haters. She kicks off the album with a decidedly tenacious tone, urging us to dive deeper into the American psyche.
The track gives us a taste of the many genres and musical tributes on the album. “AMERIICAN REQUIEM” is the first of two songs inspired by Paul McCartney and The Beatles (the second being “BLACKBIIRD”). This nod to McCartney’s work is part of a larger effort to prove she’s been endorsed by music’s greats and that she’s “worthy” of being listened to. These endorsements are great, sure, but they also highlight how Black women have to work twice as hard to get the same respect as their white counterparts.
In addition to McCartney, Cowboy Carter has features or public endorsements from Linda Martell, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, and Nancy Sinatra to name a few. Take care to note how these endorsers are elderly White people, with the notable exception of Linda Martell who preceded Beyoncé in struggling to be a Black woman in country music. (If we’re feeling saucy, it sure does sound eerily familiar to how Democratic Presidential nominee Kamala Harris has the internet begging her to pick the straightest, whitest, man to be her Vice President.)
Some of you may be rolling your eyes, “Ugh. Why’d Nielly have to go and bring up racism? I thought we were just talking about the music.”
But it’s never just about the music. The music reflects a person’s lived experiences; it’s an outward expression of their life. Every songwriter is part of a larger community, and Beyoncé’s opening track isn’t just a clap-back at the CMAs disrespect, but a mirror held up to America and its listeners. We’ll dig more into this reflection theme when we get to track 4, “PROTECTOR.”
“AMERIICAN REQUIEM” introduces several recurring themes and motifs that show up throughout the album: funerals, righteous revenge, lingering daddy issues, and the complexity of being a Black woman in America.
PART TWO: SONIC STORYTELLING
Let’s dive in first to the sonic experience. I’ll leave my listening notes unedited to give a glimpse into my mind and where it travels.
Grab your headphones and let’s smash the pause button.
(00:00)
One instrument until “hello my old friend”. This instrument sounds like a keyboard not quite a full organ?
American requiem lyric brings in third instrument
Three voices total on the Amen. Then the sitar comes in
(00:18)
A background beeping, like a rodeo countdown before they release the bulls
(00:40)
There’s a minor echo/second voice (sounds far away)
Background keyboard/spacey twinkle
Bass comes in on the first “look there”
Tempo sounds like a slow horse gallop; entering into a rodeo visual
(01:07)
“I said, ‘Do you hear me?’” has attitude like a mom scolding her kids
(01:46)
“Ow” sounds like a Prince screech
(02:20)
Tambourine comes in
(02:40)
“Thinking to myself” has a gospel-y twang in her voice
(03:09)
fuller drum/kick drum. The singular kick aligns with her lyric “do you hear me when I say?” Like a foot stomp; less a tantrum and more putting her foot down literally and figuratively
Do all the looka-looka deres sound like James brown?! I immediately get a visual of Elvis hips/classic performing style like they’re being taken over by the Spirit
(03:25)
new/non-Beyoncé voice(s)
(03:40)
There’s a cymbal or hi-hat that sounds like a ticking time bomb
(03:57)
Crescendo - kinda like a 70s Blaxploitation movie. Lines up with “Said I wouldn’t saddle up” and then the breakdown happens as a “lookie now what I’m doing”
(04:05)
instrumentation starts to fade. Just Beyoncé, sitar, swelling
(04:21)
Distant vocal quality
(04:37)
Beyoncé(s), piano; there’s a subtle whomp-whomp/dub like underwater ear pressure
(05:02)
church choir
Ends with crickets, fire crackle and a 4-count hand/finger tapping on an acoustic guitar (precursor to Blackbird)
I feel like I’m simultaneously in a church and a rodeo, waiting for the star bull rider to emerge. The song feels like a slow-motion trot. Beyoncé’s vocals are mostly solo or accompanied by simple, non-overpowering instruments. Imagery evoked by words like “requiem,” gospel choirs, and the repeated “Looka there” suggest being overcome by the Holy Ghost. Some of the screeching originally reminded me of Prince, but after countless listens, I’ve settled on her channeling James Brown, both in vocal performance and in the raw passion of improvised vocals.
Sonically, there are many elements reminiscent of the Beatles, taking me back to the 70s. This album is primarily an homage to the greats, secondarily a prelude to a rumored rock album, and a scathing review of her experience making music for audiences unlike her. It’s fitting that the song spans time and space in five-and-a-half minutes, rather short given its influences date back to the 1700s.
As a live performer and concert producer, Beyoncé is meticulous in her use of visual aids and storytelling. Her choice to isolate her vocals with minimal accompaniment emphasizes her message and plea: “Do you hear me?” By removing distractions, she forces the listener to focus, mirroring the intensity of making direct eye contact. It’s a direct call to action, creating discomfort that Beyoncé exploits to powerful effect.
If we shift from the symbolic church to a rodeo, the song features sounds that build tension, like the beeping around 0:18 and again around 3:40 with the hi-hat. This beeping mimics the countdown timer at a bull riding event. The ticking evokes the tension of Dunkirk continuously building stress until the climax. Here, the tension builds with ticking, a 70s Blaxploitation riff, piano breaks, and ultimately leads to the final amens. This song doesn’t even have a modern beat drop; it builds, plateaus with the amens, and leads into a countdown to an intimate cover of “Blackbird.”
PART THREE: STANDING HER GROUND
“AMERIICAN REQUIEM” invites us to a deeply personal ceremony: a funeral. Later in the album Beyoncé transports us to this solemn procession in track 3, “16 CARRIAGES.”
(04:40)
“Goodbye to what has been
A pretty house that we never settled in
A funeral for fair-weather friends
I am the one to cleanse me of my Father’s sins”
Reflecting on the music-only portion at this time stamp, it feels reminiscent of attending a funeral service. The single vocalist and pianist evoke the intimacy of such gatherings, often with people close to the deceased. As their instruments swell and fill the room, so do my tears and the tightness in my throat. Soon, I can’t hear anything as the pressure builds in my ears.
The title itself clues us into the song’s nature; a “requiem” is a mass for the dead. Regardless of the deceased’s religious affiliation, such elegies are often rich with Biblical references and expressions of hope and faith for the living. Around 4:15, she references the “Song of Abraham,” which celebrates unwavering faith in God despite hardships and wrongdoing by others.
Speaking of wrongdoings, this brings us to the spark for this entire experience: the CMAs performance. For the first three minutes, we are taken back in time, viewing the performance through her eyes:
(01:07)
“I said, ‘do you hear me?’”
(02:43)
“It’s a lot of talkin’ goin’ on while I sing my song”
Throughout the song, Beyoncé asks three simple yet profound questions:
(01:46)
“Can we stand for something?”
(02:13)
“Can you stand me?”
(03:36)
“Together, can we stand?”
The shift from "something" to "me" to "together" shows a deepening of her query, expanding the meaning from her CMAs experience to her broader presence in the genre. Each use of “stand” invites multiple interpretations. Is she speaking to the audience, or is she addressing them directly? Is she even referring to the CMAs anymore?
(Quick aside: if there are any fellow word nerds out there, I learned that the word “stand” is polysemous, meaning it has multiple meanings!)
(02:07)
“Salty tears beyond my gaze”
It’s unclear if anyone was literally crying, but there were several news cycles of people’s bitter and salty reactions. Her next reference to saltiness is in track 13, “ALIIGATOR TEARS.”
(03:50)
“Used to say I spoke too country
And the rejection came, said I wasn't country 'nough
Said I wouldn't saddle up, but
If that ain't country, tell me what is?”
These lyrics straightforwardly describe the feedback she received, not just in 2016, but also leading up to Cowboy Carter. Beyoncé was seen as obsessive about her CMAs experience. Was that night truly impactful on her life and why can’t she just move on? She says it was, and she took her experience and declared, “Not only am I going to excel at this, but I’m also going to uplift others and educate people on the history of country music.” Like much of American pop culture, this history started with the Black experience. Another day, on another blog, we’ll discuss the deep-rooted Black history of American country music. But for now, “said I wasn’t country ‘nough’” addresses the illogical claim that Black people can’t or don’t make country music. Beyoncé is a proud Texan; much of her discography’s imagery pays homage to her Southern roots. Despite her wealth, her Texas accent remains thick and ever-so charming. If she, someone with actual “experience” living a “country lifestyle,” can’t sing about what she knows, then who can? She aims to call out the industry’s hypocrisy. And when paired with a 70s-style Blaxploitation crescendo, it feels like a satisfying “boo-yah” to anyone who dares question her qualifications again.
IN CONCLUSION
“AMERIICAN REQUIEM” sets the tone for an album that is as much a reflection on personal struggle as it is a commentary on the broader cultural landscape. Beyoncé uses her platform to challenge genre boundaries and societal expectations, inviting listeners to confront uncomfortable truths while celebrating her undeniable artistry. This track not only serves as a powerful statement piece but also as a testament to Beyoncé's ability to fuse music, message, and emotion into a cohesive and compelling narrative.
For further reading, check out Ray Charles’s Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music, Lesley Riddle’s impact on The Carter Family, and the “First Female Negro Country Artist” Linda Martell.
This is beautifully written.