American Songwriter by Terry Glen Adams

This record showed up in October of 2024, right when the air was turning and the ground was getting restless. It slipped out into the world on the eve of the floods that swept through Tennessee and North Carolina, and somehow it caught the current instead of getting washed away. People heard themselves in it. They still do. Nearly half a million streams later on Spotify alone, the songs keep drifting downstream.

At its core, this is a country record—plain-spoken, stubborn, and honest—but it’s got red dirt on its boots and a little dust from somewhere west of memory. “Tennessee Tuff” stepped out front and led the way, becoming the most-played single, a song built like a handshake you don’t forget. It carries the weight of place and pride without asking permission.

The album wanders when it needs to. “Poor Porter Wagoner” tips its hat to a long-gone era, when country songs told the truth even if it hurt and rhinestones hid the scars. “Kozmic Cowboy,” on the other hand, stares up at the sky and hears steel guitar from another universe—bent notes, strange signals, and echoes that don’t belong to any one time.