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The singer-songwriter was a relative unknown when she signed her first label deal. Now, 15 years later, she returns to relaunched Lost Highway Records a country superstar who fought to make music on her terms, expanding the genre in the process. With a divorce in the rearview and blue skies ahead, she talks to THR about why she wanted to go home again.
By Lori Majewski
It’s a warm, cloudless April Saturday in Tennessee, and right now, Kacey Musgraves’ life is a Kacey Musgraves song. The singer-songwriter is driving southbound to rural Williamsport — exactly an hour from her Nashville home — where she’ll be going horseback riding and rambling along the river with a few friends.
“A good friend of mine has a beautiful farm on hundreds of acres,” she says in her Texas twang. “It’s on the Duck River, which is one of the most biologically diverse rivers in the world. It has all these specific species of things that don’t exist anywhere else. It’s really clean and beautiful, organic and peaceful. My friends and I go out there, bring a picnic and just live our best lives — barefoot, dirty, in the river. It’s so fun.”
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Excursions like these have colored her songwriting on tracks like “Space Cowboy,” “Oh What a World,” “Butterflies” and “Cardinal,” and they’re good for her mental health, too. “Horses have given me such an outlet for tranquility. It’s something that takes me outside of looking at my phone screen,” Musgraves says. “It gets me to look up, look out, breathe oxygen in.”
It’s a day before Easter — and 4/20. There was a time when it’d be a sure bet to think Spacey Kacey would be out there in nature, lighting up in early celebration. But on the title track to last year’s Deeper Well, the singer-songwriter admits she “used to wake and bake,” and follows that up with, “I’m getting rid of the habits that I feel are real good at wasting my time.”
Last year, a cover story with The Cut suggested she’d quit weed, though today, she laughs at the idea that she’s totally sober. “Um, I never said I don’t ever partake,” she says. “I just don’t wake up and hit a gravity bong the size of my face anymore, which is what I did for a long time. But, hey, more power to whatever suits you.”
Beyond those idyllic moments out in nature, now over a year removed from Deeper Well, Musgraves is entering a new era in her career that has one of country’s most innovative superstars going back to her beginnings.
As The Hollywood Reporter can announce, Musgraves is returning to the newly relaunched Lost Highway Records as the famed country label’s first signee since Interscope announced the revival a month ago, with Robert Knotts and Jake Gear taking the helm. It’s a full-circle moment for Musgraves, who got her start at Lost Highway in 2011 as its final artist signing, before the label folded into Mercury Nashville a year later after respected label head Luke Lewis retired.
It’s a major moment in the country music industry and the latest sign of the coasts’ presence in Nashville as country has become one of the hottest genres in the world. To celebrate the occasion, she recorded her own version of “Lost Highway” — the 1949 Hank Williams classic and the label’s namesake. The move is a logical fit for Musgraves, who’s spent much of her career unafraid of going against the grain of how the Nashville establishment operates. The same could be said of Lost Highway, which cemented its place as a home for nontraditional successes, like 2000’s O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack, a multiplatinum selling album that won the Grammy Award for album of the year in 2002.
“Kacey is exactly the type of artist we are looking for with Lost Highway,” Interscope CEO John Janick tells THR. “We wanted someone who’s going to move and shape culture, not follow it. Kacey marches to the beat of her own drum, she does what she feels creatively is exciting and makes sense for her, and she’s happy to push boundaries and not conform to what someone tells her to do. That’s what Lost Highway was, and that’s why we were so attracted to bringing it back.”
Speaking exclusively about her label move — over the phone while she drives “on the literal lost highway,” Mugraves quips — the eight-time Grammy winner opens up about where she started, her fight to create music the way she wants, and what the future looks like for herself and for Nashville.
You’ve re-signed with Lost Highway and recorded a version of “Lost Highway” as its theme song. Listening to your straight country cover, I imagine some may see this as your return to traditional country music.
While some might think of it as a “return,” I want to make it super clear that I never left. It’s always been a home base, and it’s truly where I’m sonically the most happy. But since the beginning, I’ve always had an exploratory foot out the door a little bit, allowing myself to infuse all these other genres that speak to me.
Maybe it’s not quite right to say you’re “going back” — you just won the Grammy for country song of the year. But people have looked to you as an artist who stretches the boundaries of what a country song could be. That said, your “Lost Highway” cover feels much more traditional.
From the age of 7, 8 years old, I was singing all the country standards and classics: Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn, Hank Snow, Cindy Walker. It’s such a part of me, I can’t escape even if I wanted to.
And it really feels good to wholeheartedly embrace that sound, because I’m always listening to that kind of thing. There may be a misconception that country music is easy to replicate. When you look at the bones of traditional country — the structure, the sounds, the subject matter — it’s not easy to replicate. It comes across as very simple, and the best country music is.
But it’s full of so many layers of heart and real life, real stories. And there’s a lot of restraint. Really good traditional country music, there’s a lot of space for the lyrics, the story, for the heartbreak and the texture. I really appreciate that about that era of country music. It paints a picture, but it’s subtle and it’s simple.xx
What was your reaction when you were asked to be the first signee to the new Lost Highway?
My manager, Jason [Owen], was at my house for dinner, and he asked, “What would you think of doing this?” I was so excited, like, “Absolutely, yes!” It’s a no-brainer. It made me very emotional, because it brought back so many memories and an aerial view of looking at all I’ve gotten to do, all the wonderful people I’ve gotten to meet, and the songs that have come out of that. (Editor’s note: Listen to Musgraves’ “Lost Highway” below.)
You were also the last artist to sign to Lost Highway before it folded.
I have always been such a massive fan of Lost Highway. It was my dream to be signed there. Luke Lewis, whom I adore, signed me. Luke is a true risk-taker, always a champion of the artist. I was devastated when he left. He retired halfway into the making of my first record, and Lost Highway went under the bigger umbrella. So, being asked to be part of the relaunch, it’s awesome.
There’s talk about other creative ventures within this as well, like merch capsules and me helping to shape things outside of my own projects. We’re still looking at what that exactly means, but it’s a true passion project for me. In this world where there are so many varying degrees of genre, to have a home for artists who are left of center is necessary.
Lost Highway was home to a certain type of artist — call it the outlaw: Willie Nelson, Shelby Lynne, Lucinda Williams, Mary Gauthier.
I am a huge fan of Mary Gauthier. What a diverse roster, right? Lyle Lovett, Tift Merritt. Ryan Adams — I’ve always loved his music. Wasn’t Morrissey there for a minute?
You’re right. Do you think that being in their company helped you to envision your future self as someone who could color outside traditional country’s lines?
Definitely. When you can look at artists who have made it work doing it their own way, not chasing a prior mold, it does give other artists permission to say, “That’s what I want to do.” There’s a reason people on the creative side and people on the business side traditionally, stereotypically, have rubs: because they are looking through different lenses.
It makes sense that when labels basically serve as a bank to fund things, they’re going to want the least risk involved. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work with creativity, because creativity, at its core, is risky. To have the opportunity to bring something back that honors the relationship between creativity, being unique and risk, we need more of that. I find it so interesting that we point to these artists who were outliers and outlaws, like Willie Nelson. He has had a long-standing struggle with Nashville; he was pissing off a lot of people. Now we all point to him as this icon, a new north star for normal. It takes someone breaking out and doing something different.
The same can be said about you. “Follow Your Arrow” embraced cannabis and homosexuality and ruffled a lot of conservative feathers.
Oh my gosh, it was so controversial. I was told not to [release the song] and all these reasons why. I was nervous, because Luke Lewis had left, Lost Highway had folded, and I was already halfway through making [2013’s Same Trailer, Different Park], my first real creative statement to the world. I was just scared [Mercury Nashville] wouldn’t accept what I was already putting my heart into. “Arrow” was the last song I turned in for that record.
It ended up tanking — it was banned by country radio. But I would never trade that for the love and the people it brought to my world. I’m not going to present a watered-down version of myself to be accepted. I’ll fucking shovel shit for a living at a horse barn, and I’ll be really happy. Or I’ll just be a songwriter. Anyway, it ended up working out.
As a vocal ally for the LGBTQ+ community, can you see how “Arrow” helped establish the more inclusive country music scene we’re seeing now?
Yeah. It’s funny, though, because I wasn’t setting out to be some martyr or freaking rule-breaker. I’m just doing my job as a songwriter. When you look at country music as a genre and where it started, it is really textured, beautiful layers of real stories, heartbreak, things that aren’t always easy to talk about. It’s stories for the everyday person. And that’s what always draws me back to country music: It’s there for you, no matter what you’re going through.
How did you approach recording your version of “Lost Highway?”
I didn’t think it needed some avant-garde reimagining. I wanted to bring it back to life. When I was in the studio, I looked into the genesis of the song, and I was taken aback to find it has real ties to where I’m from. Hank Williams [recorded] the version we know and love, but the songwriter is Leon Payne.
The story goes he was attempting to hitchhike from California to Alba, Texas. His mother was sick, and he was trying to get to her. I almost fell out of my chair — Alba is the next town over to the teeny, tiny town I’m from, Golden. Alba has no more than 500 people; I’ve never heard it referenced anywhere in pop culture. This song is full-circle for me, in terms of where I started and where I am now, my label.
Your take has a nod to old-school Nashville radio. It starts with the sound of someone tuning a lo-fi radio and a DJ introducing you.
That’s my sweet grandpa bringing me onto like a country-music hour. He’s 88. He was visiting Nashville and I wanted his voice on this, so we convinced him to get in the vocal booth. He was always one of the biggest champions of my singing and learning traditional country music. It’s hard to put into words just how beautiful that is for me. I’ll have that forever, you know?
Also, this is kind of interesting. When I was down in Texas, I was at this weird, little junk shop, and they had this rattlesnake tail for sale — a rattler from a real rattlesnake. It sounds like a shaker instrument. I bought it and thought, “I’m going to use this somehow, somewhere.” I’m playing the rattlesnake tail on “Lost Highway.” It’s just a little percussive part, but there’s a rattlesnake tail on there. Back in the era that this song was written, it was common for folk artists to have rattlesnake tails in their guitars because they thought it would bring good mojo.
Is the more traditional country sound of your “Lost Highway” cover indicative of where you’re going next musically?
I’ve written a ton of songs already. I love being in a period of time where I’m not rushed by a deadline and have the space to mosey and poke around. I’m not sure yet where it’s going to end up.
There was Same Trailer, then Pageant Material went even harder in the country direction — it was a love letter to all the classic country I love. Naturally, it felt good for me to explore some other sounds, and I went into Golden Hour territory. Then I went through a divorce and was in a really intense place in my life, and I went in the opposite direction with Star Crossed. With Deeper Well, I swung back in toward my center.
I’ve been feeling really good playing around with some more — I want to say “traditional” — but at the same time, there always has to be a modern edge there in some way. There has to be a balance between tradition and future.
You’re now in your Lost Highway era, but you’re not quite done with Deeper Well either. You’re about to announce international tour dates?
I’m going to South America, then Asia and Australia. I’m playing Brazil for the first time. I know the energy and the fans there are unlike anywhere else. I’m playing this massive rodeo [São Paulo’s Jaguariúna], which is really cool. Rodeo is huge in Brazil. It’s been really cool to see the rest of the world come to love country music, because, really, country is more about a mentality and an attitude versus geography. Real country music is based on real emotions all humans have, no matter where you’re from.
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