It is no secret that a heartbeat of nationalism has been thumping for the last decade. Deafening at times and dampened at others, it has persisted nonetheless. Conservatives have traditionally bore the brunt of fueling this eternal flame; however, the dynamic has shifted over the last few years. Between Obama’s second term and the 2024 election, americana became cool. It spread from Silver Lake to Bushwick, from sea to shining sea.
Americana’s cultural revival infiltrated the national psyche through multiple avenues. Long before the Harris Walz camo hats entered the printer, real denim made its return. Jeans got wider and stiffer. Heritage brands like Levi’s filled shopping lists, beating out their ultra-cheap fast fashion competitors. The youthful workers making the knock offs were not strong enough to really hammer in the rivets; quality plummeted as a result and consumers noticed the difference. Investors expect revenue to rebound once the current workforce hits puberty and experiences substantial muscle growth.
As jean legs crept from skinny to slim to straight to loose, there had to be something to fill the newfound space around society’s ankles. That was where cowboy boots came in. In addition to fitting a tough, country guy aesthetic, they let millions of short men feel secure about wearing heels. In the south these boots are no frills, designed to be worn for use -- from the desk job selling insurance to the F-350 to the local bar where you drink to avoid the wife and kids. They’re performance ready and likely ugly. Big city boot wearers take a different approach with touches of color and unique leather patterns. A red snakeskin boot pairs perfectly with the carpenter jeans, Carhartt jacket, thrifted short-sleeve button up work shirt that used to belong to a mechanic named “Gene” or “Ron” or “Nance” until they passed away and their adult children donated all the clothes in their hoarder house, camo hat, and an American Spirit behind the ear. That is the uniform of a creative director ready for a hard day working from the local coffee shop. Somewhere else in that cafe you are sure to find western belts, western shirts, and cowprint.
Camo, workwear, denim, and wider cuts have defined the cultural shift in fashion, much like how alternative folk/country has dominated the airwaves. Popular music, from any period, defines the soundtrack to that generation. Right now there is a resurgence of stripped back instruments and scratchy vocals. This does not pertain to pop country like Morgan Wallen. Unfortunately, that guy will always be popular with a certain demographic -- the people who don’t want to separate the art from the artist when listening to him. My thesis links more towards artists like Tyler Childers, Zach Bryan, Noah Kahan, and rising stars like Waxahatchee or Ken Pomeroy (those two might just be me, but they fit the narrative). Beyonce went country in a big way. Even MGK has turned his cultural-leach act towards americana, without any effort to disguise it. It is clear this is where the money is flowing, and the industry’s biggest are claiming their share.
The list does not end with music and fashion. ‘Twisters’ and ‘Top Gun’ had sequels. Celebrities are building mountain homes out west with wood and stone, not glass and steel. Mustaches are back in, as is long hair on men. Cheap, light, domestic or Mexican beers have eclipsed craft beer. The cool guy has put away the double IPA in exchange for a Miller High Life or Coors Banquet. It looks cooler and tastes better. It is simpler, and that is key.
What is it about the present that has left us reaching for the past? Why this particular period of nostalgia? “Americana” conjures thoughts of freedom, not in the way that conservatives love to focus on with guns and abortion, in which they really want a lack of freedom, but in the truest sense. Free from oppressive forces, from the information overload we experience today, from overthinking and complexity. It is an open road with wind in your hair, the blue of a twilight sky silhouetting distant mountains, a kind conversation with a stranger. It is sepia toned and warm, and, for some reason, always in the southwest where sandy soil meets the horizon, guiding you towards endless possibilities. Like nearly all forms of nostalgia, it is a misrepresentation of the time we are yearning for. Life back then was not any easier than it is now, for many groups it was harder. The only thing simple about those decades is our retrospective view of it. We are clawing for calmer times in reaction to the 360° stressors we experience now at personal and global scales. We ignore the context we do not have, assuming the best about the past and the worst about the present. We are all guilty of it, and likely always will be, because it feels so damn good to throw on a canvas workwear jacket, add ‘Jersey Giant’ to the queue, and head around the corner for a fresh matcha at a WiFi enabled cafe to sit outside and feel the sun on our face for a few minutes until an itch forms that only short-form content can scratch.
