Tyler Childers – “Bitin’ List” – Lyric Video
“Bitin’ List” is outlaw storytelling gone feral—and funny. It’s weird, dangerous, and unforgettable, the kind of cut that proves Childers can make a punch line feel like a campfire legend.
Kaitlin Butts – “You Ain’t Gotta Die” (To Be Dead To Me)
“You Ain’t Gotta Die (To Be Dead To Me)” is the kind of song that leaves a mark. It’s cinematic, unflinching, unapologetic—and firmly Butts in the driver’s seat.
Blackberry Smoke – “Run With The Pack” (feat. Paul Rodgers and Brann Dailor)
Blackberry Smoke proves once again why they’re leaders in today’s outlaw scene. With Paul Rodgers and Brann Dailor at their side, “Run With The Pack” hits like a runaway freight train—loud, unapologetic, and destined to be played at maximum volume.
Waylon Wyatt – “Riches to Rags” | Western AF
Waylon Wyatt — “Riches to Rags” | Western AF (Song Review) Some performances feel like a postcard from the next few years of country music. “Riches to Rags,” captured by Western AF, is one of them: a quiet-room performance with a center-of-gravity voice, a story you can wear, and the kind of poise that makes you forget how young the singer is. Waylon Wyatt is still in school, but nothing about his timing, phrasing, or grip on the lyric reads like a beginner. It’s a small frame with a big future peeking through. The hook The title flips the familiar cliché and tells you exactly where we’re headed: not the champagne arc, but the morning after. Wyatt writes like someone who’s taken notes—on people, places, and how pride sounds when it’s trying to keep a straight face. The melody is sturdy and unhurried, the kind of line that lets the words breathe. When the chorus lands, it doesn’t explode so much as deepen, like a step down into an honest room. Why it works Story first, groove second, gloss a distant third—that’s the old recipe, and “Riches to Rags” honors it. The lyric deals in small, tactile details rather than slogans: scraped-knuckle choices, the arithmetic of a dwindling wallet, the humor that surfaces when self-awareness finally shows up. It’s a song that respects the listener’s intelligence, relying on clean images over grand speeches. That restraint, plus the calm of the performance, gives it the steadiness you want from modern roots-country—and the DNA that nods toward the straight-shooting outlaw lane. Voice & writing Wyatt’s tone sits warm and centered, with a little gravel that reads as lived-in rather than put-on. The phrasing is the tell: he hangs a half-beat behind the line when the verse wants it, then snaps to the pocket when the hook needs to land. The writing is compact and conversational—no overstuffed metaphors, no look-at-me turns of phrase—just lines that feel said rather than performed. That’s a rare instinct at any age, and especially notable for someone still finishing school. Sound & arrangement Western AF’s aesthetic—close mic, honest room—puts the song right under a magnifying glass, and it holds up. Guitar is dry and supportive, never fussy; the dynamics come from touch, not tricks. You can hear the front edge of the pick, the breath between phrases, the small smile that creeps into a line that stings. That transparency lets the lyric carry the weight and gives first-time listeners permission to lean in. Western AF matters here If you’re not already following Western AF, fix that. The channel has become a reliable signal flare for emerging voices that play the song straight and let the room do the talking. “Riches to Rags” fits the catalog: an artist who doesn’t need studio armor to be convincing. It also comes with an endorsement that’s worth noting—Western AF’s Spencer Cox has suggested Wyatt could have a long run in this industry, and on the evidence here, that read feels right. Why it sticks after the first spin Because the stakes are human-sized and the telling is clean. The chorus gives you a phrase you can repeat when life downsizes your expectations; the verses offer enough detail to make the story feel like it might be yours. It’s not a fireworks single; it’s a north-star cut—the kind of song that builds an audience in quiet increments and turns into a set-list anchor before anyone’s calling it a hit. The verdict “Riches to Rags” is a small-room performance with big legs. It’s honest, replayable, and anchored by a voice that already knows when to get out of its own way. If this is the opening chapter, the pages ahead look promising. Keep an eye on Waylon Wyatt—and keep an ear on Western AF; they’ve got a knack for finding the folks who’ll still be standing five years from now. References Session video: YouTube — “Riches to Rags” (Western AF) Channel: Western AF on YouTube
The Infamous Stringdusters – “Working Man Blues”
“Working Man Blues”(Stringdusters edition) is a respectful, high-octane reminder that great songs can wear new clothes and still carry the same spine.
Caitlynne Curtis – “Amen”
“Amen” is three minutes of grit and grace—modern in its sheen, classic in its priorities, and generous with the kind of hope that doesn’t ask for applause. Put it on your drive-time playlist and let it do its quiet work.
The Last Knife Fighter – “Live Forever”
“Live Forever” is the rare promise song that refuses to overpromise. It trusts clear language, sturdy melody, and a rhythm section that knows when to lead and when to lean. Spin it once and you’ll catch the mood; spin it three times and you’ll hear the craft.
Matt Schuster – “A Little Birdie”
“A Little Birdie” is three clean minutes of country craft—the kind of song that sneaks into your day and sets up camp. Sharp title, sturdy melody, production with some muscle under the polish.
Marcus King “Here Today” (Live From Bonoroo)
“Here Today (Live From Bonnaroo)” is Marcus King doing what he does best: turning hard miles into a wide-open singalong and letting a great band do the talking when he doesn’t. With Kaitlin Butts and Jamey Johnson in the frame, the performance feels communal rather than cameo-drunk.
Candi Jenkins “Cowboys For Fools”
Candi Jenkins — “Cowboys For Fools” (Song Review) The elevator pitch “Cowboys For Fools” is a straight-shooting country heartbreaker that puts Candi Jenkins right where she belongs—front and center with a lived-in voice, a steady two-step pulse, and a lyric that knows exactly how it feels to fall for the hat, the smile, and the trouble that follows. The song doesn’t wag a finger; it shrugs, grins, and tells the truth. That honesty—delivered with a classic country engine—makes it stick. Sound & arrangement The track rides a clean, mid-tempo backbeat with a touch of Texas dance-hall swing. Telecaster and pedal steel trade easy lines, never showy, always tasteful. Acoustic guitar keeps the pocket warm while the bass and drums hold a don’t-you-dare-rush groove—perfect for a hardwood floor and a slow turn under neon. The production stays out of the way: no synth pads, no clutter, just air around the vocal and instruments placed like barstools you can trust. Writing & point of view The title carries the hook, but the verses do the heavy lifting. We get snapshots: a handshake that lasts a beat too long, boots at the door at sunrise, promises that look good under starlight and fall apart in daylight. Candi Jenkins sings in first person, yet the voice feels communal—like she’s telling a story you’ve heard in a hundred kitchens and never quite learned from. The payoff line in the chorus lands more like acceptance than defeat, which is the song’s quiet trick: wisdom that doesn’t ruin the romance, only frames it. Vocal & feel Jenkins’ tone carries that soft rasp you can’t fake. She rides just behind the beat, letting the words bloom. There’s a noticeable lack of melisma or showboat moments—she leans on phrasing, not fireworks. When the steel guitar sighs under the final chorus, the performance has already done its work: the ache is familiar, but the telling is fresh. Little details, big payoff The pocket: drums and bass keep a patient, dance-ready tempo—no rush, no drag. Guitar economy: a few Telecaster stabs and moaning steel fills say more than a crowded solo ever could. Lyric economy: images, not lectures—barroom glass, dust on the tailgate, headlights on a fence line. Where it fits This is modern barroom traditionalism—new enough to feel alive, old enough to feel inevitable. Put it in a playlist with hardwood-floor two-steppers and late-night confessionals and it will hold its own. Fans hunting for outlaw honesty without bombast will recognize the DNA: keep the band lean, the beat honest, and the story unvarnished. The verdict “Cowboys For Fools” proves Jenkins can carry a classic country idea with craft and poise. The song is tight, hummable, and emotionally legible after one spin—three things that never go out of style. If this is the lane she’s driving, save her a parking spot between the jukebox and the dance floor. References Official video: YouTube — “Cowboys For Fools” Artist link (YouTube): Candi Jenkins