Country Music Male Singers Crowd the Market: Too Many Solo Men?

To misquote James Brown, it’s a man’s, man’s, man’s world in country music.

In addition to the typical onslaught of individual singles and tracks, at least 11 new country albums and EPs were released on Nov. 7 that have something very basic in common: They were recorded by solo male artists. If there’s ever been a release pattern that provides a glimpse into one of the genre’s biggest challenges, this may be it.

The schedule’s most prominent entry comes from Country Music Hall of Fame member Willie Nelson, whose Workin’ Man: Willie Sings Merle draws on a bevy of classic songs by fellow Hall of Famer and former duet partner Merle Haggard. At the other end of the scale, Spencer Hatcher releases his first major-label EP, Honky Tonk Hideaway.

In between are two acts doing career resets, Jake Owen and Ryan Kinder; a pair of Christmas releases by Brad Paisley and Hunter Hayes; a personal comeback by Colt Ford; and debut albums by independent artist Cooper Alan and Music Soup/Interscope/MCA Nashville act Vincent Mason.

That conglomeration reflects one of the ongoing issues for country marketers. Thirty-nine of the 60 titles on Billboard’s Country Airplay chart dated Nov. 15 are solo guys. Much has been made over the dearth of female voices in the genre, as well as the paucity of minority voices and the relatively small number of groups and duos. But that forces all those male performers to compete with little space to create a unique lane for their brand. Developing that singular identity is key for artists who hope to build a career for the long haul, and they’re required to walk a tightrope in the process, mining the influences that led them to this career path while breaking away from them at the same time.

“I could try to write what’s on the radio,” Alan says. “But that stuff’s already on the radio, and those people are already doing it really, really well. So why is that a good strategy for me?”

Nelson is the best example among the Nov. 7 releases —perhaps the best example in all of country music — of a male artist who established his own turf in a crowded field. His musical phrasing, the grainy tone of his voice, the buzzy sound of his guitar and his propensity for braids and/or bandanas are a few of the elements that set him apart. Even in Willie Sings Merle — which features covers of such iconic titles as “Silver Wings,” “Mama Tried” and “Okie From Muskogee” — Nelson’s performances are distinctly recognizable.

Ford, with the release of Little Out There, likewise occupies a position that’s specific to him. He was the first successful proponent of country-rap, and he brings his familiar flow — along with more traditional singing — to a series of songs that benefit from a personal story that makes him even more unique. It marks his first release since a near-fatal heart attack in April 2024.

“You need to know who you are and not care about everybody else,” Kinder notes.

It’s a lesson Kinder learned firsthand. His unique vocal tone serves in subdued settings as reassuring cotton, but becomes a searing blade when he lets it go. In some moments during his career, he has admittedly attempted to adapt to others’ expectations. With new release The Beginning of Things, he strips down a dozen songs he wrote with producer Luke Sheets in his earliest years in Nashville to recapture their original essence. After previous deals with Bigger Picture and Warner Music Nashville, the indie project is something of a career reset as he refines his public persona.

“The [current] music business is the Wild West, which makes it fun and scary,” he says. “I just wanted to go back to the basics for a little while, and all these songs that we recorded were the first ones me and Luke wrote when I came to town. They’re the ones that got everybody excited about what I was doing. They’re the reason I got signed to both of my record deals.”

Owen’s Dreams To Dream is likewise a revision. Nearly 20 years after his first album, he teamed with producer Shooter Jennings (Tanya Tucker, Charley Crockett), eschewing the contemporary sound that dominated his career for a raw tone that draws on the outlaw era. 

The late Luke Bell, whose 2022 death drew a new level of attention, had established a creative lane that recalls an even earlier era. The King Is Back, a double album that purportedly represents all of his unreleased material, uses production techniques that recall Sun Records’ 1950s heyday, melodic touches that evince Ernest Tubb and Wynn Stewart, and a yodel that hints at Hank Williams.

Hatcher and Drake Milligan borrow from more recent voices. Milligan’s sophomore project, Tumbleweed, reaffirms his George Strait leanings — the Texan has a bit of Strait’s tone and embraces material that one can imagine Strait recording. But Milligan delivers it more dramatically than the ever-cool country icon and adds a bit of Elvis Presley hip-shaking in his live shows.

Hatcher’s resonance would fit in the center of a Venn diagram of Kenny Chesney, Aaron Tippin and Mo Pitney, wrapped in a package that fits ’90s country. That era influences much of modern country, but Hatcher is betting on his real-world connection to the music and its associated lifestyle.

“I grew up on a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia,” Hatcher says. “I’ve lived a country life my whole life. Nothing about me is fake and I think that my music reflects that. It’s very traditional, it’s very real. And I’ve always been very authentic, not only to myself, but to what I believe true country music is and was founded on.”

His EP’s name, Honky Tonk Hideaway, is designed to assist in establishing his identity as a country centrist.

“The title is a pretty good representation of who I am as an artist,” he says. “As far as ‘honky-tonk’ being such a country term, you know, it’s not just a bar, it’s a honky-tonk. I don’t think it would be mistaken as any other genre.”

Hatcher is specific about his presentation — jeans, boots, Western hat — adhering to the classic image of a male country singer. That look partially resembled the starched shirts and jackets that Strait employed to create his own version of that staunch-country identity.

In more recent years, the backward ballcap has become a style point for many young country guys, including Mason, who’s introduced through the album There I Go. He filters his version of country through Southern rock vibes — slide guitar and Hammond B-3 — though he altered his wardrobe recently for some strategic separation.

“This kind of sounds silly, but he’s not been wearing a baseball cap for the last couple of months,” says his manager, Champ Management founder Matt Musacchio. “All the comments on social media [have been], ‘We love you without the hat. We didn’t realize what you looked like.’ We played into that a little bit, too. There’s [a campaign] that’s ‘Who the fuck is Vincent Mason?’ on TikTok. And it’s slowly but surely kind of unraveled who he is.”

Mason, and the holidays, are part of the reason that males play an outsize role in the Nov. 7 releases. His team originally targeted Oct. 31 for his first album, but Mason insisted that his fan base would likely be partying on Halloween, convincing them to wait a week to release it. Meanwhile, two holiday records — Paisley’s Snow Globe Town and Hayes’ Evergreen Christmas Sessions — were scheduled to take best advantage of Yuletide music purchases. 

Both Christmas projects lean on familiar identities. Paisley’s snaggly guitar fills and whipped-up soloing are present in “Counting Down the Days,” which doubles as theme music for Hallmark’s annual slate of holiday movies. Hayes displays flashes of jazz in “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and blues in “Run Rudolph Run.” For Hayes, that exploration enhances his established musical personality.

“Country’s a lot of different things, and my thing is I make a lot of different kinds of music,” he says. “I’m very influenced by the stuff I grew up listening to that is country, and I’m really inspired by a lot of country artists right now. I don’t know that I would label myself as a strictly country artist, just because I make so many different things, and I enjoy bringing so many different things into what I do.”

A facile guitarist who played all the instruments on his first album, Hayes has never had trouble developing an identifiable niche.

“I’ve never struggled with having something unusual about what I’m doing,” he says. “Honestly, the challenge has been ‘How do I fit in?’ That’s been my challenge for my entire career.”

With consumers focused primarily on individual tracks in the digital age, the album is arguably as much a branding opportunity as a creative endeavor, and Alan titled his Nov. 7 debut Winston-Salem, emphasizing his North Carolina roots. He took extra time this year to write and record more songs that adhere to a specific theme. The result is a hefty 20 titles that play with the city’s hyphenated name. He’s a family guy in the Winston portion of the album and a party animal in the Salem half.

While the imaging and branding surrounding the artist should emphasize their uniqueness as a product, the songs are ideally created without much consideration of the competition.

“I pay attention to how things are marketed and what’s working strategically for other artists,” manager Musacchio notes. “But when it comes to the music itself, there’s never been a conversation about what other people are doing and trying to fit in in a certain way.”

The key, it appears, is making music that represents the artist’s creative tastes, then employing authentic marketing that accentuates their best attributes. Hopefully, they’re different enough that they can find their place in a country world that’s teeming with men, all vying for the affection of a specific fan base.

“There’s a whole lot of pie,” Alan suggests. “No matter how big or small your piece of that pie is, it’s pretty good to just at least have a bite of that pie.”