Zach Top was born in Sunnyside, Washington, on September 26, 1997, and burst onto today’s country music scene like many musicians of this generation -- by going viral. His first hit, “Sounds Like the Radio,” harkens to the day of his birth in that southcentral Washington town, joking that his mother’s OBGYN could not believe he “came out cryin' Chattahoochee.”

The reference to Alan Jackson’s triple-platinum mega-hit immediately placed Top in the middle of a conversation about nostalgia, country music and authentic representations of the genre. Throughout the song, Top drops several additional references to the period and his love of its music. Jackson’s hit topped the Billboard Country Music Charts four years before Top was born. 

 A listener could be forgiven for thinking the artist was on the radio in 1997, not in diapers. 

“So much country music is about how much better older country music is than current country music,” explains Rob Harvilla. The author of 60 Songs That Explain The 90s and the pitch-perfect podcast of the same name notes that it’s even more powerful — and perhaps a bit weird — to romanticize a period that an artist did not experience.

“The idea of nostalgia, the idea of the good old days, the idea of everything being better back then, is sort of baked into the genre, or at least what you hear on the radio, to the point where there is no nostalgia cycle —  it’s a permanent feeling of nostalgia.”

Music has an inherent two-decade nostalgia cycle, where songs and styles of one period become reliably popular again, he said. This cycle is so reliable he wrote a book and hosts a podcast about it. 

“The 20-year thing that happens naturally in music is exacerbated by a few different things in country music — notably that the genre is so fundamentally nostalgic,” he said. 

Joshua Hedley, a nearly 40-year-old Nashville-based musician and songwriter, released Neon Blue in 2022, which could easily have found its singles on the radio in the early 1990s. The 12-song LP of 90s honky tonk bangers, some of which were co-written by Top, was a massive departure from his first full-length album, Mr. Jukebox, which he describes as “a 60s, countrypolitan type record.” 

The juxtaposition of Mr. Jukebox and Neon Blue provides snapshots of Hedley’s diverse influences. Yet for Hedley, the popularity of the 90s style of country music is less about the influences of today’s artists and more about economic power and a desire for a simpler time. 

“I think the reason 90s country is so hot right now is because we are the adult consumers, and nostalgia has been there from the beginning of time,” he explained. “Everybody’s always wanting stuff that reminds them of when they had less shit to worry about. You know, no bills, no nothing, living with mom and dad, getting stoned on the weekend with your friends and listening to country radio.” 

He put it simply: “Nostalgia is always going to sell records.”

Stephanie Harlow, a senior trends analyst at GWI, a consumer research firm, agrees with that assessment. According to her findings, each generation’s top genre of music is the music of the decade in which they grew up. 

“Nostalgia is key,” she wrote in a post from early 2023. “Many turn to music as a form of escapism – 55% say they listen to tunes to remind them of good memories, and 36% listen to escape from reality. Gen Z and millennials, in particular, use music as a form of escapism.”

Neo-Neo-Traditional Country Music 

And there is no shortage of modern bands to feed this nostalgic desire. Perhaps the first commercially successful team to do so was Midland. Their modernized classic sound and return to innuendo-laden story songs opened the door to more modern traditionalists even as Bro Country continued to dominate the airwaves. 

Andrew Rasta and Sean Oliver of the Country Country Music podcast unknowingly coined the “neo-neo-traditional” term on an episode in October 2022 and have revisited the topic on several subsequent shows.

Many of today’s traditionalists feel the highly produced pop country is over-influenced by other genres. Much like the early 1990s, these modern traditionalists have created enough demand that some country music that finds its way onto the charts and radio playlists could be described as “real” or traditional country music again, the podcasters explain. 

“Drinking Problem,” a song Hedley describes as the George Jones song he didn’t record, from Midland’s self-titled first album, peaked at number 45 on the Billboard Hot 100, reached number three on the Radio Airplay and number four on the Hot Country Songs Billboard charts in 2017. Today, it has over a quarter of a billion streams on Spotify.

The rise of Midland and Jon Pardi in the late 2010s and the explosion of other — often much younger — artists like Top, who grew up listening to what their parents enjoyed, have put traditional country music back on the map. 

And today’s traditionalists have the original neo-traditionalists of the 80s and 90s to thank for charting that path — a revival of a revivalist period. 

In the episodes on the term, Rasta and Oliver discuss the importance of performers like George Strait and Alan Jackson in the first period. These artists pulled significantly from previous generations, added modern sounds and production, and delivered an updated version of traditional country music — hence the neo-traditional moniker. 

The reversion back to traditional sounds and themes that integrated new concepts, recording styles, and technology into the music in the late 80s and 90s has been mirrored in the work of some neo-neo-traditional pioneers, explained Rasta in an interview. 

“The [neo-neo-traditionalists] clearly had an 80s and 90s influenced sound but with modern updates, carving out a new niche and popularizing that traditional sound, showing you could have success with heavy fiddles and pedal steels on mainstream radio again,” he said.

Midland, Pardi and Hedley do this well by bringing modern sensibilities and cultural relevance to their songs. But perhaps no one does it as seamlessly as Kaitlin Butts. 

Roadrunner, the 2024 Ameripolitan Awards Honky Tonk Female of the Year’s most recent album, is a near-perfect example of the neo-neo-traditional country sound. The album’s clever, snarky lyrics, coupled with powerful honky tonk instrumentation as well as softer ballads, like “Come Rest Your Head (On My Pillow)” featuring 90s icon Vince Gill, place it among some of the best of the year. 

But this album could not be confused with something created 30 years ago. While clearly influenced by the mid- to late-90s, this album brings in so much more — notably Butts’ artistry and sharp writing. It incorporates classic sounds and modern influences — like the greats of the 90s without sounding exactly like them.  

“I pull from a lot of older country music,” the 31-year-old told Saddle Mountain Post. “A lot of us are trying to make good songs that tell a story, make albums that tell a bigger one and try to stay true to what raised us, you know?”

“You want to play music that you want to listen to, or at least I do,” she continued. “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a listener of super pop country, and I want to make sure that I enjoy listening to it, and what I enjoy listening to is stuff that is songwriter-based and has a good country feel to it.”

While some of Butt’s older country influences were considered pop in their day, such as Jo Dee Messina, The Chicks and The Wreckers, they now fall into a classic category. The passage of time has allowed these seemingly different kinds of music to be labeled generally as part of “90s Country.”

However, her musical influences and exposure to musical theater broadened her music references well beyond the late 90s country radio.  Luminaries like Aretha Franklin, Nirvana, Towns Van Zandt, Coolio, Patty Griffin, Lady Gaga and Lindsay Lohan all played a role in shaping her music. 

Copies or Next Best Thing

However, there are some, like Top, Jake Worthington, Braxton Keith and Dzaki Sukarno, among others, who are making “records that sound even closer to the neo-traditional 80s and 90s sound, musically, sonically and thematically, with less of a focus on updating the music,” Rasta added. 

“This is all part of the same rising tide of 80s and 90s Neo-Traditionalism making a comeback.”

But is this new music simply a recreation of what has already proven successful? Does this approach rely upon the constant nostalgia loop? Perhaps most importantly, does it matter?

“The fact that there has been this new revival of another era’s sound among young artists 30 years later kind of warrants its own sub-genre regardless,” Rasta said, dismissing the need for this new music to bring in something new to be considered part of the critical conversation. 

Sukarno, a 24-year-old son of Indonesian immigrants, grew up in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Born in 2000 and surrounded by what he calls the “wild wild west of the Texas country scene,” he was a young kid in a farming community who loved that classic country sound. 

While many of his contemporaries enjoyed what was on the radio, he was drawn into the country of the 1950s through 1990s but loved the style and storytelling of the 90s, especially Alan Jackson’s integration of lyrics and musical structure. 

And his music feels at home within this format. With songs like “Love Like 90s Country” and “Oceanside Attitude,” Sukarno delivers a classic country sound without a modern update. 

“I’ve noticed that classic country comes in waves throughout the years,” he said. “And each time, there is an army of brand new artists with sounds similar to that classic, authentic sound. It has paved the way for a new generation of country music listeners to connect with older listeners.”

The success of the latest wave of traditional country music has given Nashville artists permission to revisit some of these themes and sounds.

“Since the mid-2010s, there’s been a resurgence in traditionalism from various eras from new artists like Kacey Musgraves, Colter Wall, Cody Jinks and Cody Johnson,” Rasta continued.

Even rising mainstream stars like Riley Green, Ella Langley, Lainey Wilson and Megan Maroney can find popular success integrating some of these traditional sounds. The willingness to take a risk and incorporate these more traditional sounds is due to the success of those like Top, who makes music that Rasta calls an “authentic continuation of the original” neo-traditional period. His success seemingly gives them permission to make “country country music.”

Sukarno agreed, adding that Nashville focuses on trends, and record executives want to capitalize on the popularity of those like Top to sell more mainstream records by cashing in on the nostalgic aspect of the music. 

However, for Sukarno and this class of neo-neo-traditional country musicians, it’s not about the nostalgia, as many of them were not alive to hear these songs on the radio for the first time. For them, it is about creating what they see as authentic country music. 

“I’m grateful that Zach Top opened the door, but it’s not going to take just one person to bring back traditional country music. It’s going to take an army. And that is what had to happen in the 1990s as well. It wasn’t just George Strait and Alan Jackson.”

The Sustained Power of the 90s

Singer-songwriter Tony Kamel grew up on 90s music. With an untamed but cropped head of grey hair and a beard to match, the self-described Xennial was there the first time around.  

“I think it was such a powerful blip in musical time,” said the Houston-born frontman of the Grammy-nominated Wood & Wire string band. 

After going solo, Kamel has released a full-length country album and a few singles to critical acclaim. In January 2024, he picked up his banjo and posted a simple TikTok and Instagram video of him playing Everclear’s “Santa Monica.”

Much like Top’s jump into the conversation, Kamel’s video went viral across the platforms. In September, he issued a four-song EP that included his viral hit along with  “Black Hole Sun,” “No Rain” and “Tomorrow.” His recorded version of “Santa Monica” has more than 100% more streams on Spotify than his next most popular song. 

“I just still love those songs,” he said of his decision to put up the videos and drop the EP. “The melodies hit a certain part of the brain that can’t really be denied, and they bring back a lot of memories for folks my age.” 

Kamel explained that he discovered virtually all his music via MTV and music videos as a kid. 

“It was a unique era that — in the grand scheme of things — really didn’t last that long.” 

This was the last period of time when you had to catch a song on the radio or buy a physical album to listen to it, which played into the impact of this era, Harvilla explained. The energy and time spent identifying and understanding the value of an album has been the subject of several episodes of his podcast. 

Kamel’s approach was to take the “big and loud” songs that were “accompanied with images of highly produced music videos” and simplify the recording, sound and delivery.

“I think stripping them down lands well because it shows they’re just great songs. So many people commented on those videos with things like, ‘Man, I never realized how hard these lyrics hit.’ But it’s really the melodies that stab that nostalgic part of the brain and give you that warm fuzzy feeling.”

“As corny as it sounds, a great song is a great song, you know?” said Harvilla. “And it sounds as good as a country song, as it did as a pop song, as a folk song or anything else.”

While this applies perfectly to Kamel’s EP Songs That Made Me Weird, Vol. 1, Harvilla was referring to the surprise mega-country-radio-hit of “Fast Car.”

Luke Combs covered Tracy Chapman’s late 80s hit — which resulted in Chapman becoming the first Black woman to have written a number-one country song on the radio charts. Billboard reported Chapman earned about $500,000 in publishing royalties in the first few months after the release of Combs’ version.

“I don’t think when you heard that song on the radio in the late 80s, you’d think of it as a country song. [Combs] didn’t think of it as a song that would ever play on country radio, you know?” Harvilla suggested. “But it sounds so logical, so beautiful, in that context.”

Combs told anyone who asked that he remains a big fan of Chapman’s songwriting and wanted to do this song justice. He did not change the protagonist’s gender but tweaked the song slightly to modernize its sound and give it a bit of a country production. For this effort, Combs’ version earned nods for “Song of the Summer” from the MTV Music Awards and “Best Solo Performance” from the Grammy Awards. He won the Country Music Association Awards for Best Song and Best Single. 

The commercial and critical success of the song culminated when Chapman joined Combs on stage for her first televised performance in almost a decade at the 66th Annual Grammy Awards. “When Tracy Chapman reemerges and gets this gigantic, warm round of applause, it’s just that ‘Grammy moment’ of my lifetime, honestly,” Harvilla said with a nostalgic smile in his voice. 

“But you know, it’s the passage of time and the realization that all these genres, all these sub-genres, and all these walls that allegedly exist between all this music are all a lot more porous than you think.”

“From our safe perch here in 2024, we are free to recreate our own 90s and decide what that means and what that sounds like,” he admitted. “And we’re all wrong, you know, but we’re all right at the same time.”