In March 2018, Kacey Musgraves heralded the start of springtime with her third studio album Golden Hour — and in turn, the world crowned her a new level of stardom. Brimming with a glorious honeymoon tenderness, the record resonated deeply with listeners and became an instant country pop classic.
In fact, one of the most common Google searches for the album is simply, "Why is Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves so good?" It also won over her famous peers: Golden Hour is Justin Bieber's go-to photoshoot soundtrack, and just its mention on the red carpet earned a gasp from Beanie Feldstein.
The album's magic was equally apparent at the 2019 GRAMMY Awards, where Golden Hour became the fourth country album to win Album Of The Year. It also won Best Country Album, and two of its singles (the starry-eyed "Butterflies" and the wistful "Space Cowboy") won for Best Country Solo Performance and Best Country Song, respectively — meaning Musgraves swept every category she was nominated in that year.
Her inspiration for Golden Hour came to light upon meeting Ruston Kelly, her now ex-husband (more on that later), when he played a set at Nashville's Bluebird Cafe in 2016. "I had just cleared my schedule to get back to writing when I went to that show and I met him," Musgraves said in an interview. "Songs just immediately started pouring out."
This rush of falling in love saturates Golden Hour. ("It was nice to know that you didn't have to suffer to create good art," she said in a 2021 interview with The Guardian.) A free-falling, saccharine infatuation colors the album's prismatic perimeter, and it's tinged with a distinct warmth that crawls over your skin and fills your heart. Buzzy with pink-orange comfort, its cohesion is satisfying and enveloping, from the affectionate nostalgia of "Slow Burn" to the soft solace of "Rainbow."
But what makes Musgraves' Golden Hour so monumental is its pure acceptance of love's ephemerality — and ironically, this embrace of fleetingness is what makes the album beautifully timeless. The grand album offers 46 minutes of sunlight before fading into the horizon.
In theme with its apt springtime to summer ambiance, Golden Hour magnificently captures the seasonality of love, romantic or not. Musgraves finds self-love in isolation on "Lonely Weekend," a song that feels like a shrug with a sad smile. Later, the singer accepts distance from a lover in the cinematic "Space Cowboy," and she watches precious time slip away in her one-minute heart wrenching ballad "Mother."
Yet, as Musgraves gently confronts her grief, she also taps into a resonant relief. Drawing meaning from this duality, Golden Hour honors how the beauty of life and love is found in the recognition of their inevitable conclusions.
For some, this is most deeply felt in the soaring ballad "Happy & Sad," in which Musgraves exquisitely details the joys and fears that come with falling in love. "Is there a word for the way that I'm feeling tonight?/ Happy and sad at the same time," she sings. "You got me smilin' with tears in my eyes."
On "Happy & Sad," she searches for the exact term to pin down the striking emotion — but Golden Hour encapsulates the feeling so much more powerfully than a singular word could ever achieve. "They say everything that goes up/ Goes up, must come down," Musgraves sings on the track, "And I don't wanna come down."
The album blossoms with such radiance that it's difficult to believe that it's Musgraves' first album about love. It comes after Musgraves' Same Trailer Different Park (2013) and Pageant Material (2015), which each spin stories of small-town life, its challenges, and her favored smoky forms of escapism. Musgraves grew up in Golden, Texas — a town of just 200 people — and through the open-mindedness of her music, she grew out of it.
"Undeniably, I'm a country singer, I'm a country songwriter. But I feel like I make country music for people who like country music, and for people who don't," she explained in an Entertainment Weekly interview shortly after her first album release. "It's a blend of being inspired by super-traditional country roots and then all these other kinds of music: Cake, Weezer, Electric Light Orchestra, the Beatles, Glen Campbell. I don't really see genre boxes."
Though Musgraves' roots are undeniably country, her versatile approach to music allows her to break conventions in what is often viewed as a traditional genre. While slide guitar, banjo, and pedal steel guitar whirl across Golden Hour, a perky vocoder and vibraphone also make appearances in a way that Musgraves described to Refinery 29 as "futurism meeting traditionalism."
This contemporary style applies not just to her work's technical production, but also to her sharp — and what some deemed characteristic of a "liberal misfit" — lyricism. Pageant Material saw her shoot down the "good ol boys' club," and on Same Trailer Different Park's "Follow Your Arrow," Musgraves sings, "Kiss lots of boys, or kiss lots of girls if that's something you're into/ When the straight and narrow gets a little too straight, roll up a joint, or don't."
A variation of the label "The country star for people who hate country music" began to follow her around: Musgraves was determinedly making country "cool" again, taking down bro-country one joint at a time.
On Golden Hour, the standout free-spirited anthem is "Rainbow" — even despite its more somber tone. The piano-driven track sees her brush past a swirling storm, and she tenderly reminds listeners that "there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head." With its endearing message of hope, many fans in the LGBTQ+ community embraced the song's beaming chorus.
"I feel a kinship and a friendship with that community. They really opened my eyes up to a lot of different things that I wasn't aware of growing up in a small town in Texas," Musgraves said of the LGBTQ+ community. "'Rainbow' is something that I can dedicate to that community, but also to anyone who has any kind of a weight on their shoulders."
As much as the song resonates with members of the queer community, "Rainbow" escapes one singular meaning. Co-writer and producer Shane McAnally described it as a "sort of a chameleon," as many people took the song and shaped special meaning out of it for themselves, whether it be in relation to the challenges of the pandemic, accepting one's identity, or simply everyday life.
This is the inherent, irresistible magic of Golden Hour: universality. Along with Musgraves' pivotal embrace of love's transience, the album's timelessness also stems from its fluid meaning — even for Musgraves herself. In September 2020, the golden hour had faded completely: Musgraves and Kelly split, and she momentarily found herself despising her widely beloved masterpiece.
"There was a time where I was like, 'OK, Golden Hour is trash, I'm not ever singing it again," she admitted in an interview with Zane Lowe, just a few days ahead of dropping her 2021 breakup album star-crossed. "It's like, I never want to see another butterfly ever f—ing again."
Musgraves went on to say, however, that she was eventually able to redefine and rediscover what the album meant to her. "As I've gone on and found some more stable ground and personal happiness, I'm like, 'You know what? No: the magic of Golden Hour does not have to die with that relationship. It can live on and I will relate to it again,'" she told Lowe..
As Musgraves has seemingly discovered herself, Golden Hour is the kind of album that can take the shape of whatever listeners need it to be. And while love may often be impermanent, Golden Hour reminds us to cherish our time in the sun.
Kacey Musgraves' Road To 'Star-Crossed': How The Breakup Album Fits Right Into Her Glowing Catalog