It’s been 13 days since the release of Tyler Childers’ 7th studio album: Snipe Hunter. The 13-song LP marked his first collaboration with legendary producer Rick Rubin as well as his furthest departure from the edgy country music his fans want.

The Kentucky-born singer-songwriter comes from a tradition of musical geniuses like Bob Dylan and Sturgill Simpson who prefer innovation to consistency, instead of repeatedly cashing in on their niche (Zach Bryan and, disappointingly, our dear Charley Crockett). Such a style asks a lot of an artist’s fans, who typically romanticize the music that began their fandom. Tyler Childers’ community is no different, except they happen to have the umph to sell out arenas and provide several-hundred-million Spotify streams on individual songs like Feathered Indians - a track that Childers has excommunicated from his own setlists. The irony is that Childers likely never would have strayed so far from gritty country music had his fans not made him one of the most powerful voices in music.

Snipe Hunter is a challenging album to dissect. Many songs are situated in his home region, Appalachia, and some feature regular country music topics like bar bands, hunting, and southern cooking. But Childers doesn’t use the cliches that we’ve heard in music about these topics. He opens up the album with Eatin’ Big Time, a loud and angry boot-stomper about shooting and dressing a deer at a feeder from a stand, as well as some of Childers’ personal ideas about wealth. This one mostly appears to be a platform for him and his band The Food Stamps to have a good time.

Another fun one, and likely to be the standout of Snipe Hunter:

“To put it plain I just don’t like you,

Not a thing about the way you is,

And if there ever come a time I got rabies

You’re high on my bitin’ list”

Straight out of the playbook of John Prine. Bitin’ List lets itself be wildly corny, and in doing so actually avoids being uncool. In a world where every country artist has to tell you how real and tough they are, Childers offers us a song about contracting rabies, hugging and kissing his family goodbye, and seeking out the people on his “bitin’ list.” Nobody else, other than Mr. Prine himself, has flown this close to the sun.

Or how about the Shawshank Redemption reference in Poachers?

“And I’d stand there like Dufrane

Far enough from the searchlight

And flip off you b*stards

In the sewage and rain”

As hard as it is to imagine the man watching a movie, Tyler Childers is a cinephile. And it makes sense when you consider the scenes and stories he provides in his music. Some of these tracks leave me scratching my head about what they’re about, but the lyrics stick in my head and make me think. This, in fact, is what it means to be respected by your favorite musicians. Contrast it to the lyrical colorlessness of Luke Combs:

“I pick up a beer can,

And get to feeling like Superman

It’s a Friday night y’all, here’s the plan

I’m gonna throw back a couple and

Keep ’em glued to my right hand

Any flavor, size, or brand

Until the point where I cant stand

No, nothing picks me up like a beer can”

What does Luke like to do with a with a beer can? How does he feel when he has one? How many does he intend to have? These songs leave me utterly questionless. If I could gather all of country music into a room, we would have a seminar on subtlety. Tyler would be the keynote speaker, and Evan Felker and Jason Isbell would have a panel.

It’s no mystery why our greatest talents in country music seem to subvert it at every opportunity. They share radio time with the Cody Johnson Parker McCollum snoozefest of style. But, when these artists flame out, the creatives remain. There’s a reason we care about Kanye West infinitely more than his early-2000s hip-hop contemporaries. Tyler Childers is revolutionizing genre the same way that Kanye did.

Album Score: 8.5/10

This style is not for everyone, and some people don’t care to hear their musicians accuse Koala Bears of having Syphilis or Chlamydia. Fortunately for me, that is exactly what I want to hear, and I happen to enjoy our strange Kentuckian friend’s perspective on Australia.