This may be the "Beyoncé goes country" record—but, in truth, she's always been here. A Houston native and rodeo fan, she released countrified "Daddy Lessons" on 2016's Lemonade then upped the ante with a Chicks remix that was met with industry backlash. But no one puts Beyoncé in a corner, and Cowboy Carter is her gracious "told ya so" moment. First single "Texas Hold 'Em" saw her become the first Black woman to top Billboard's Hot Country chart, and it's a joy: echoing the Chicks' and Shania's C&W pop, but also Rhiannon Giddens' mountain folk (that's her playing banjo on the song) as well as all-American sweet soul music. The excellent Raphael Saadiq is a co-writer, and his touch shows. And damned if the affecting ballad "16 Carriages"—grand in the "Halo" tradition—doesn't sound like an autobiographical recounting of Beyoncé's career start as a teen. "At fifteen, the innocence was gone astray/ Had to take care of home at an early age/ I saw Mama cryin', I saw Daddy lyin'/ Had to sacrifice and leave my fears behind," she sings, chillingly, against crackling percussion and Robert Randolph's pedal steel. No wonder Dolly Parton blessed the cover of "Jolene," intro-ing that song with a comparison of her own titular character to the notorious Becky with the good hair. Beyoncé layers on the twang and tweaks the lyrics: "Jolene, I know I'm a queen, Jolene/ I'm still a Creole banjee bitch from Louisianne (don't try me)." Willie Nelson shows up as a radio DJ spinning samples from Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Son House. "Spaghettii" opens with a spoken intro from pioneer Linda Martell—the first Black woman to perform on the Grand Ole Opry, in 1969, but who also faced racism on the road and returned to South Carolina to be a bus driver. Over drill beats, Beyoncé shows off her rap skills in a stunning display ("Just a fishin' expedition, dumb admission/ In the kitchen, cookin' up them chickens/ Extra leg, but I ain't even tryna kick it/ Cunty, country, petty, petty, petty/ All the same to me, Plain Jane, spaghetti"), joined by Shaboozey. He also guests, as does Pharrell, on wild bull ride "Sweet Honey Buckiin,'" which starts with Bey crooning Patsy Cline's "I Fall to Pieces." The Cowboy Carter guest list is dizzying: rising star Willie Jones (gospel-inflected "Just for Fun"), Miley Cyrus (ride-or-die R&B ballad "II Most Wanted"), Gary Clark Jr. (sun-streaked yacht rocker "Bodyguard"). Post Malone joins the party for slow-burn flirt "Levii's Jeans," produced by The-Dream and Nile Rodgers. A goosebump-inducing cover of The Beatles' "Blackbird" showcases four of the most exciting young Black women in country music right now: Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy and Reyna Roberts. There are sweet lullabies ("Protector"), giddy-up grind ("Tyrant") and Beyoncé singing a bit of the aria "Caro Mio Ben" ("Daughter"). And "Ya Ya" is an absolute  jaw-dropper—packed with Tina Turner energy and interpolations of Nancy Sinatra and the Beach Boys—that slides into a snippet of Chuck Berry's "Oh Louisiana" reworked as a psychedelic blues fever dream.  © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Never before has Beyoncé made her fans wait so long between solo albums. Of course, these past six and a half years haven’t been easy for the singer—far from it. However, such levels of anticipation inevitably lead to impatience. After unveiling the house-pop influenced single Break My Soul, which definitely came as a surprise, you’d be forgiven for expecting her new album to be something more along the lines of Drake’s Honestly, Nevermind released a month prior, but it’s nothing of the sort. Renaissance has electronic rhythms at its core, but it’s extremely wide-ranging. Beyoncé flirts with disco-funk on Cuff It, summons huge choirs fit for a queen on Cozy, and includes a new ode to feminist empowerment with Church Girl (which gives an insight into her soul and gospel influences). Perhaps the best musical synthesis on the album is found in the track Virgo’s Groove, reviving the Latin sounds that feature on Move and Heated. With Renaissance, Beyoncé has really upped her pace, creating a highspeed musical freeway that’ll take you to a lot of different places. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

This may be known as the "Beyoncé goes country" record—but, in truth, she's always been here. A Houston native and rodeo fan, Beyoncé released the unmistakably countrified "Daddy Lessons" on 2016's Lemonade then upped the ante with a Chicks remix that was met with industry backlash. But no one puts Beyoncé in a corner, and Cowboy Carter is her gracious "told ya so" moment. First single "Texas Hold 'Em" saw her become the first Black woman to top Billboard's Hot 100 Country chart, and that's even after some country radio stations refused to play it. That song is a joy: echoing the Chicks' and Shania's C&W pop, but also Rhiannon Giddens' mountain folk (that's her playing banjo on the song) as well as all-American sweet soul music. The excellent Raphael Saadiq is a co-writer, and his touch shows. And damned if the affecting ballad "16 Carriages"—grand in the "Halo" and "If I Were a Boy" tradition—doesn't sound like an autobiographical recounting of Beyoncé's career start as a teen. "At fifteen, the innocence was gone astray/ Had to take care of home at an early age/ I saw Mama cryin', I saw Daddy lyin'/ Had to sacrifice and leave my fears behind," she sings, chillingly, against steel guitar and crackling percussion. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Beyoncé Knowles was always presented as the star of Destiny's Child -- which probably shouldn't be a big surprise since her father managed the group. So it was a natural step for her to step into the diva spotlight with a solo album in 2003, particularly since it followed on the heels of her co-starring role in Mike Myers' 2002 comedy hit, Austin Powers in Goldmember. Still, a singer takes a risk when going solo, as there's no guarantee that her/his star will still shine as bright when there's nobody to reflect upon. Plus, Survivor often sounded labored, as Knowles struggled to sound real. The Knowles clan -- Beyoncé and her father Mathew, that is (regrettably, Harry Knowles of "Ain't It Cool" is no relation) -- were apparently aware of these two pitfalls since they pull off a nifty trick of making her debut album, Dangerously in Love, appeal to a broad audience while making it sound relatively easy. Sometimes that ease can translate into carelessness (at least with regard to the final stretch of the album), with a prolonged sequence of ballads that get stuck in their own treacle, capped off by the unbearably mawkish closer, "Gift from Virgo," where she wishes her unborn child and her husband to be like her daddy. (Mind you, she's not pregnant or married, she's just planning ahead, although she gets tripped up in her wishes since there's "no one else like my daddy.") Although these are a little formless -- and perhaps would have been more digestible if spread throughout the record -- they are impeccably produced and showcase Knowles' new relaxed and smooth delivery, which is a most welcome development after the overworked Survivor. Knowles doesn't save this voice just for the ballads -- she sounds assured and sexy on the dance numbers, particularly when she has a male counterpart, as on the deliriously catchy "Crazy in Love" with her man Jay-Z or on "Baby Boy" with 2003's dancehall superstar, Sean Paul. These are the moments when Dangerously in Love not only works, but sounds like Knowles has fulfilled her potential and risen to the top of the pack of contemporary R&B divas. It's just too bad that momentum is not sustained throughout the rest of the record. About halfway through, around the astrological ode "Signs" with Missy Elliott, it starts crawling through its ballads and, while listenable, it's not as exciting as the first part of the record. Still, the first half is good enough to make Dangerously in Love one of the best mainstream urban R&B records released in 2003, and makes a strong case that Knowles might be better off fulfilling this destiny instead of reuniting with Destiny.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

This is history in the making. Queen B surprised us with the release of a live album taken from her two dazzling concerts at Coachella in 2018, chronicled by a Netflix documentary. B performs a retrospective, revisiting 40 tracks from her 22-year career. There are no new songs here, but there is a studio cover with Tay Keith of Before I Let Go, the Frankie Beverly and Maze 1981 soul track. Other Destiny’s Child members Michelle Williams and Kelly Rowland make bonus appearances on Lose My Breath, Say My Name and Soldier, husband Jay-Z on Déjà Vu, sister Solange on Get Me Bodied, and her daughter sings Afro-American anthem Sing and Lift Every Voice. This performance effectively explains why it was nicknamed ‘Beychella’, as this makes its mark on the festival’s history. And that was the goal, with 200 people on stage, colossal high-budget visual spectacle in this immense two-hour performance highlighting afro-feminist empowerment; Beyoncé has earnt her throne. “When I decided to do Coachella, instead of me pulling out my flower crown, it was more important that I brought our culture to Coachella.” To the sound of the second lines of a New Orleans brass band, a revamped drumline, Malcolm X on Don’t Hurt Yourself and amidst multiple references to African-American history, the queen of pop inhabiting the Queen Nefertiti reminds us of the importance of her discography in the 3rd millennium. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz