A look back at every single that has topped a year-end singles list at Country Universe.
2024
“White Lies, White Jesus, and You”
Katie Pruitt
What we said: The first single from and centerpiece of Mantras, Katie Pruitt’s extraordinary missive from the frontlines of the ex-vangelical movement, translates her personal traumas into a rallying cry. 2024 was a year in which Christian nationalism solidified as the driving force for a very loud and very powerful plurality of the American electorate, and Pruitt’s “White Lies, White Jesus, and You” lays bare the ways in which the adherents of that worldview leverage the “DARVO” principle that’s common to abusers.
“The way I felt the knife turning into my side,” Pruitt sings when she recounts coming out to her family, “When I heard you say the words, ‘I’ll pray for you’.” In this instance, she recognizes that the prayer isn’t something offered from a place of love or compassion; it’s an act of violence and an attempt to inflict shame. She was looking for acceptance and, instead, was told that, while she might be someone to love, her authentic, lived experience was something worthy of hate. Pruitt’s song is about finding the strength to leave that behind her.
“You talk about forgiveness like a favor,” she sings a few lines later, “Like it’s something that you didn’t have to do.” Pruitt is savvy enough to see how modern therapy-speak focuses on an obligation to forgive abusers, an intellectually dishonest way of allocating the entirety of the emotional labor to the victims of abuse. In this exact moment, it feels at once naive and absolutely essential to hope that a perpetrator might actually reflect upon their own actions, let alone ever be held accountable for them.
To that end, “White Lies, White Jesus, and You” chronicles the ongoing horrors of 2024 as outright abuse in the name of religion gets codified into laws governing believers and non-believers alike. Whether that takes the form of repeated attempts to trap spouses in abusive marriages or court rulings stating that priests have property rights not to be sued for raping children, we continue to be confronted by the ways that “forgiveness” gets weaponized. If Christ can forgive, then surely your suffering isn’t enough to stop you from doing the same, and who are you think otherwise? We’re supposed to be answering a call in the spirit of unity, after all.
Pruitt’s song is a stark rebuke of that manipulative dogma. It’s one of the things she sings of putting behind her here. What makes this particular single so stirring is her recognition that it was the theology of coercive control that was holding her back from healing and from living a life of radical authenticity. – Jonathan Keefe
2023
“The Tree”
Maren Morris
What we said: The details and tone of “The Tree” do support a reading that it’s a direct response to the country music industry itself. When Maren Morris delivers the single best lyric she’s ever written– “The rot at the root is the root of the problem / But you want to blame it on me”– there’s a depth of history reflected in how Music Row, at a systemic level, has always been driven by principles that uphold a narrow vision of white male supremacy. That’s a truth that sits uneasy with a lot of folks who directly benefit from those exact systems and who believe that an entire industry that historically and presently marginalizes or tokenizes voices of anyone who isn’t a white male is, somehow, a meritocracy.
In that sense, “The Tree” is a through-the-looking-glass take on one of Morris’ biggest hits. When the bones are good, the rest might not matter. But what’s at stake and how should a person respond when the bones aren’t good? When, in fact, there’s rot at the root, and the soil is blighted?
For me, that idea resonated not because I’ve ever been branded a Lunatic Country Music Person in the right-wing mediascape, but because of past relationships that were toxic and, similarly to what Kevin describes above, because of previous work environments that were abusive. It’s exhausting and psychologically damaging to spend “10,000 hours trying to fight it with flowers”– and, as an aside, I appreciate the nod in that line to the adage that it takes 10,000 hours to develop expertise in something– when kindness and loyalty are not reciprocated and are the equivalent of the proverbial knives at a gunfight.
Morris gets that. And when she wails, “The tree was already on fire,” with a power that she’s never previously unleashed on record, it’s a moment of rage that is both self-directed– for the time and effort wasted on trying to save something that she failed to recognize was beyond repair– and outward-facing at the broken thing itself.
And it doesn’t matter if that broken thing is the country music industry… or Morris’ marriage to singer-songwriter Ryan Hurd… or any one specific thing at all. It’s the same reason why it doesn’t matter if Taylor Swift wrote “All Too Well” specifically about Jake Gyllenhaal: That should ultimately be no more than a footnote. “The Tree” is a wonder of fecundity in terms of actual interpretation because of the precision with which Morris and her two co-writers have drawn its central metaphor. Regardless of genre, that type of depth represents popular songwriting at its full potential, and to take an ax to that kind of critical thought is to cheapen music as an art form. – JK
2022
“Whiskey Sour”
Kane Brown
What we said: The line “I’ve never been a somber soul, but part of me ain’t here no more, and I’ve been trying to find him ever since,” is the moment on which “Whiskey Sour” transforms from a surprising but effective trad-country pivot into an all-timer. This is as extraordinary a record as any country A-lister has released in the 18 years I’ve been writing about country music. If, say, Jason Isbell or Joshua Ray Walker had written that exact line, there are an awful lot of people who’d be falling over themselves to hail their songwriting brilliance as a fait accompli once again.
Brown didn’t write the line, but he had the wherewithal to record it and to deliver it with a real sense of weight that few, if any, of his contemporaries on country radio could hope to match, not that they’d ever bother to record a song like this in the first place. — JK
2021
“Wild Turkey”
Amythyst Kiah
What we said: If “Black Myself” acted as both a reintroduction to Amythyst Kiah’s solo work and a reclamation of a long, violent history, “Wild Turkey” is the moment to look inward. In doing so, she delivers a pain and yearning so personal and vulnerable, that it rings like an anthem – especially on that final chorus – and captures a flurry of emotions from anger to grief and confusion reminiscent of Allison Moorer’s 2019 album Blood.
Framed around Kiah’s mother’s suicide, it’s a song where the scars settled long ago but didn’t quite manifest until years after the fact. It’s a search for forgiveness and empathy where said search may not be able to reverse the damage done, but can at least help to provide some vestige of closure. It’s harrowing, it’s difficult, and it’s delivered with a sobering directness, because she’s walled herself off from the pain for too long and knows she needs to face the past head-on if she wants to feel right again. It all adds a devastatingly relatable subtext for anyone trying to cope with a similar level of pain, and it made an easy selection for Country Universe’s top single of 2021. – Zack Kephart
2020
“What are You Gonna Tell Her?”
Mickey Guyton
What we said: It seems like a lifetime ago that Mickey Guyton debuted “What are You Gonna Tell Her.” Throughout 2020, as we suffered through an isolating pandemic that disproportionally impacted people of color, and as we watched a long overdue racial reckoning dominate the streets and the airwaves, Guyton’s song continued to resonate.
In calling out the big lies, “What are You Gonna Tell Her” reveals uncomfortable truths. Telling ourselves a whitewashed version of the past that makes us feel no action is needed in the present is what prevents a more equitable future.
Guyton’s willingness to acknowledge the barriers that have limited her own success is so powerful because the strength of her singing and songwriting proves her point. This was the best written single of the year. Nothing else came close. Her performance was immaculate. Radio executives cheered for it. Then they refused to play it, building her up just to tear her down.
Somewhere right now, there is another talented little girl dreaming of country music stardom, and she looks more like Mickey Guyton than any of the handful of women on country radio right now. She thinks she can be the one to make it, and she’s being told to dream big, blissfully unaware that an undeniable talent who looks just like her is being blocked at every turn. What the hell are you gonna tell her? – Kevin John Coyne
2019
“Girl Goin’ Nowhere”
Ashley McBryde
What we said: A celebration of resistance and perseverance in the face of open discouragement. McBryde’s songcraft is so eloquent that it’s almost hard to believe that anyone could talk down her talent and her potential for success. She emphasizes her gratitude but allows an undercurrent of “I Told You So” to pulsate throughout her vocal performance. “Girl Goin’ Nowhere” was the best evidence of a truth that this list repeatedly demonstrates: the redemption of mainstream country music is already here, if the powers that be will just clear some room at the crowded table. – KJC
2018
“Space Cowboy”
Kacey Musgraves
What we said: One of the most interesting films of the aughts is Cory McAbee’s The American Astronaut, an interstellar spaghetti western musical about a literal space cowboy. The film’s tagline, “Space is a lonely town,” also happens to perfectly capture the tone of Kacey Musgraves’ “Space Cowboy,” the finest single of a career that already includes “Merry Go-Round,” “Follow Your Arrow,” and “Dime Store Cowgirl.” The heavy reverb that pervades Golden Hour is put to its most effective use on “Space Cowboy,” giving the track what sounds like an endless expanse of open terrain for its sadness to fill.
Musgraves subverts traditional Western iconography in nearly every line of the song, sighing, “There ain’t room for both of us in this town,” not as a threat between two duelists but as an admission of defeat. When she sings, “When a horse wants to run/There ain’t no sense in closing the gate,” Musgraves can see the loneliness down the road ahead, but what makes “Space Cowboy” so effective is her recognition that she was already lonely in a relationship that had long been doomed. – JK
2017
“If We Were Vampires”
Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
What we said: “If We Were Vampires” has Jason Isbell tackling the subject that trips up even the most accomplished writers: true love. He manages to weave intimate details together with unwavering sentiment without even a hint of sappiness. The suggestion that our very mortality is what makes us capable of such deep love is revelatory. A masterclass in songwriting. – KJC
2016
“Vice”
Miranda Lambert
What we said: “Vice” was met with deafening expectations when it was released this summer, the first single off of Lambert’s post-divorce album The Weight of These Wings. In what state would the song capture her, an artist with a gift for sharing herself with her music?
Indeed, there are specific answers in “Vice” –she’s “where the numb meets the lonely,” and later, tellingly, “standing at the sink, not looking in the mirror”—but they’re secondary to the song’s simmering, cathartic aesthetic. From the scratchy opening lines to to the heavy resignation with which Lambert’s performance drips to the jarring guitar licks, “Vice” is itself a well-crafted piece of escapism. That Lambert’s transgressions are presented with a shrug, as an unavoidable part of her messy healing process, makes the song all the more riveting. – Tara Seetharam
2015
“The Blade”
Ashley Monroe
What we said: It’s a credit to Monroe that the central metaphor of “The Blade” – a dramatic one, to be sure – doesn’t devolve into hyperbole. Instead, she uses it to calmly explain to a former love how their break-up has wounded them differently. She does so with measure and maturity: Even as she describes the razor felt against her heart, she expects no apologies.
And then the refrain begins, and she bleeds. Through her reason and poise and dignity, she bleeds, because he caught it by the handle, and she caught it by the blade. Monroe has never sounded finer as an interpreter than she does when riding this swell of pain, and her blend of vulnerability and grace transforms “The Blade” into as devastating a depiction of heartache as they come. – TS
2014
“What We Ain’t Got”
Jake Owen
What we said: The best thing that the reflective, regret filled “What We Ain’t Got” accomplishes is that it reminds us that Jake Owen actually has one of the best voices on country radio. There have been glimmers of this fact throughout his career, but it’s been easy to forget with all of the overproduced and shallow music that has pervaded his career, even by his own admission.
So, to hear Owens’s wistful, tender performance supported by an engaging, yet simple, production was a big surprise and a refreshing reprieve from all of the noise of 2014. – Leeann Ward
2013
“Follow Your Arrow”
Kacey Musgraves
What we said: Surprised? You’re probably not surprised. Musgraves topped our singles list last year with the sharp “Merry Go ‘Round,” and if anything, “Follow Your Arrow” one-ups it, offering an uplifting antidote to the malaise that “Merry Go ‘Round” warns of: go forth and live happily, whatever the word may mean to you.
There’s a little more to it, of course. The song is historically huge in its warm embrace of sexual diversity and religious tolerance, and its commentary on body image issues isn’t far behind. It rides a plucky, acoustic groove that dares to believe modern country music can sound like John Prine. It looks at life the way life really is, complicated and controversial, and does so with concise phrasing and a working sense of humor—why, that sounds like a classic country song to me. – Dan Milliken
2012
“Merry Go Round”
Kacey Musgraves
What we said: In a single masterful stroke, Musgraves cuts to the fearful, defeated heart of countless small-towners – countless any-towners, really. The nursery-rhyme chorus is country poetry of the highest order, illustrating in a few simple lines how we compromise ourselves rather than face the unknown, turning to one distraction or another until we almost don’t notice the years rolling by, our dreams collecting dust.
It would have been a standout single in most any era of country music. That it’s managed to go Top 20 in this era – in which the mainstream anxiously evades things that are smart, challenging, new, and female – feels like a small miracle, and speaks to the timeless power of great music to transcend meaningless boundaries. It’s the most impressive debut country single in recent memory, and an enticing challenge to an ever-reductive Music Row: Truth and creativity can still win out in 2012. – DM
2011
“Mean”
Taylor Swift
What we said: You know what I love about Taylor Swift? She has a real knack for tapping into emotions and experiences that are personal to her, but conveying them in such a way that any listener can see it as his or her own story set to music. The deeper and more personal she gets, the more we feel it as listeners.
Some might write off “Mean” as a cheap comeback to the oft-heard criticism that “Taylor Swift can’t sing,” but to do so is to miss the full scope of feelings that the song addresses. It speaks to anyone who’s been insulted or disrespected by those who cross the line between constructive criticism and plain cruelty, doing so with some of Swift’s most raw and honest lyrics to date.
It all makes for a most delicious slice of musical catharsis. In addition to being one of the flat-out best lyrics Swift has written, the song features a Shania Twain-esque singalong melody, not to mention one of the coolest and countriest productions of any mainstream release this year. In multiple aspects, “Mean” is clearly the work of an artist who was willing to step outside the box, making it a standout achievement for Swift, and a definite standout moment on radio playlists.
I can see a few jaws dropping at this somewhat divisive selection, but we make no apologies for it. A case could be made for a number of other worthy songs taking this top spot, but for me there’s just no getting round the fact that “Mean” is the one 2011 single release that I will be replaying the most in years to come. Thus, it’s a great pleasure to name “Mean” our top single of 2011. – Ben Foster
2010
“The House That Built Me”
Miranda Lambert
What we said: Miranda Lambert’s career defining song is also our song of the year. Not much can be said about this gorgeous ode to childhood memories that hasn’t already been said better by countless writers before me, including our very own Dan Milliken, which helps make the case for what’s inevitably the song of the year on many 2010 countdowns.
Its all-acoustic, understated arrangement underscores the story of a woman who tries to find solace in the memories buried in a structure that was more than a house. Its descriptive lyrics move us as they detail memories from turning blueprints into the family dream home to the heartbreak of losing the family dog.
As it is always is with the best songs, “The House that Built Me” does not hit us over the head with its emotional resonance. It’s strong, it’s palpable, but it’s all done with gentleness, which is the most effective way to tug at the heartstrings. – LW
2009
“Sissy’s Song”
Alan Jackson
What we said: A great song, but an even better record. The way that Jackson essentially recites the conflicted verses that reveal his doubts about what he proclaims in the chorus with a gospel melody is brilliant. It’s not certain whether he truly believes that “she flew up to heaven on the wings of angels” and is “smiling, saying, ‘Don’t worry ’bout me.’” But it’s what he has to tell himself he believes to make the grief manageable down here on earth. Sometimes faith comes from weakness and doubt, rather than strength and certainty. – KJC
2008
“What I Cannot Change”
LeAnn Rimes
What we said: Part of the Serenity Prayer, which has been adopted by Alcoholics Anonymous and other twelve step programs, says, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,/courage to change the things I can/and wisdom to know the difference.” Our favorite single of the year, “What I Cannot Change”, gracefully expounds upon that prayer: “I will learn to let go what I cannot change/I will learn to forgive what I cannot change/I will learn to love what I cannot change/But I will change,/I will change/Whatever I, whenever I can.”
This song embraces a pragmatic honesty that is all too often lacking in today’s mainstream country music. Rimes understands that while there are things she should change, there will always be aspects of her life that will be out of her control. She realistically acknowledges: “I don’t know my father or my mother well enough/It seems like every time we talk we cant get past the little stuff/The pain is self-inflicting, I know it’s not good for my health/But it’s easier to please the world than it is to please myself/Oh the rest is out of my hands.” Finally, with that painful self reflection, Rimes bluntly admits, “Right now, I can’t hear about how everyone else feels/I have enough hurt of my own to heal.”
Not only is this an exquisitely beautifully written composition, Rimes sings with both power and grace. There are no fancy production or bombastic vocal tricks. Instead, the strength of “What I Cannot Change” lies in its tastefully simple instrumentation that allows Rimes’ mature and sensitive vocal performance to shine. It’s easily the finest moment of Rimes’ career, and it’s the best single of 2008. – LW
2007
“If You’re Reading This”
Tim McGraw
What we said: By giving a voice to our fallen soldiers, McGraw delivers an eloquent tribute to the sacrifice that they make for us. The song is timely, as America deals with significant wartime casualties for the first time in decades, but it’s also timeless, a song that will live on long after this conflict has ended, with a powerful and poetic message. It’s the finest moment of McGraw’s distinguished career, and the best four minutes of country music in 2007. – KJC
2006
“Not Ready to Make Nice”
The Chicks
What we said: As cathartic a record as I’ve ever heard, my blood races and my heart beats a bit faster every time that second verse builds to its thundering climax. It may be the most personal song the Chicks will ever record, but there’s a triumph of the human spirit here that validates the conflicting emotions felt by those of us who have paid a price for standing up for what they believe, and in the end, found it worth the cost.
2005
“Somebody’s Hero”
Jamie O’Neal
What we said: Quite possibly the best record about mother and child in country music history. It still gives me goosebumps with each listen. – KJC
2004
“I May Hate Myself in the Morning”
Lee Ann Womack
What we said: If I wanted to make the case as to why country music is essential to popular music as a whole, I would play “I May Hate Myself in the Morning,” drop the mic, and walk away.
It’s not just the essential truths of the lyric that connect it to spiritual predecessors like “Help Me Make it Through the Night” and “Spilled Perfume.” It’s not just the honky tonk wail that surfaces when one of our all time great vocalists hits her sweet spot.
Fact is, you could make the case for this being a quintessential country record without any lyrics or singing at all. This is the most potent steel guitar and fiddle work to hit country radio this century. The warm musical outro showcases those two instruments flawlessly, capturing the “ecstasy is the shot, regret is the chaser” moral dilemma that the lyric paints so well.
“I May Hate Myself in the Morning” is not one of the best records of the last twenty years because it’s a traditional country record, but because it was recorded by an artist who understood how to use the elements of traditional country music to make a great record. – KJC
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