Golden Hour

Golden Hour is a country record that seems to have discovered more sky around it. Kacey Musgraves had already established herself as a sharp, economical songwriter, but her fourth studio album loosens the borders around that writing without losing its precision. Pedal steel and acoustic guitar remain part of the vocabulary; so do synthesisers, vocoders, soft rock and, on “High Horse”, an unmistakable pull towards disco. The surprise is not that these elements coexist, but how naturally Musgraves makes them serve the songs.

Musgraves co-produced the 2018 album with Ian Fitchuk and Daniel Tashian and co-wrote all 13 tracks. She has cited Sade and Neil Young among its inspirations, a pairing that makes more sense once you hear the album’s interest in both smooth atmosphere and unforced directness. The songs emerged during a period of personal transition, including her relationship with Ruston Kelly. Rather than turning that happiness into simple celebration, Musgraves writes about the vulnerability that comes with allowing life to change.

“Slow Burn” states the album’s pace almost literally, with banjo appearing inside an arrangement more concerned with space than rustic signifiers. “Butterflies” uses pop and disco touches, including vocoder, to express the dizzying lightness of new love.

“Space Cowboy” faces an ending with remarkable composure, while “Mother” compresses an intergenerational thought into a tiny song. Musgraves has also spoken about LSD playing a role in the writing of “Mother” and “Slow Burn”, a detail that fits the album’s occasional sense of ordinary perception becoming newly vivid.

Then there is “High Horse”, where the beat steps fully onto the dancefloor without making the wit any less country. That range is Golden Hour’s real achievement. It is neither an abandonment of Nashville songwriting nor a self-conscious crossover exercise. Instead, it asks what happens when a writer with a very clear voice stops treating genre as a fence. The result feels open, warm and detailed. Pay attention to how often the production makes room rather than filling it. Musgraves’ best lines land because the music trusts them.