Everybody in the Bar Plays Shaboozey

The country musician’s verses have the potential to unite Americans of all stripes.

In writing his Dionysian honky-tonk anthem “A Bar Song (Tipsy),” Virginia-born singer-songwriter Shaboozey wedded two once-strange bedfellows — country and hip-hop — and surfaced with an oven-fresh American sound that just about everybody wants a piece of these days. Released in April, the song has since bounded to the top of the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart, where it replaced Beyoncé’s “Texas Hold ’Em,” marking the first time two Black artists have consecutively topped that list. Shaboozey then two-stepped his way into the Billboard Hot 100, where he scooted ahead of pop divas Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan, usurped rap king Kendrick Lamar, and even surpassed major-label country-music darlings Morgan Wallen and Zach Bryan. By late July, “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” was proclaimed the No. 1 song in the U.S. for a third consecutive week.

When I call Shaboozey from New York, he’s still blinking himself awake aboard a tour bus in Colorado Springs. It’s the latest stop on his westward-bound promo run for “Bar Song,” which has included appearances in Las Vegas and at the CMA Fest in Nashville. He has been on the move since his debut at the BET Awards in June, where he performed alongside St. Louis rapper J-Kwon, whose 2004 club classic “Tipsy” served as the prototype for Shaboozey’s refashioned chorus, “Everybody at the bar gettin’ tipsy.” Come September, he’ll headline his own tour and will join Grammy nominee Jelly Roll on the road later this fall. “That’s what happens when you got a big song,” Shaboozey, 29, says of his jam-packed calendar. “Especially a song as party-fueled as ‘Tipsy’ is, and during the summer.”

Born Collins Obinna Chibueze in Woodbridge, Virginia, to Nigerian parents, Shaboozey chose his stage name as a nod to the many clumsy pronunciations of his surname, which translates to “God is king” in Igbo. Yet he learned early on that what might have alienated anyone else would further embolden him to pursue his Nashville dreams. “I embraced the idea of standing out,” he tells me.

Energized by the cinematic folk storytelling of Bob Dylan and the aughts country-rap fusions of St. Louis MC Nelly, Shaboozey began to devise his own musical identity. He offset his ambered, sonorous croon with hissing trap beats on his 2018 debut, Lady Wrangler, which preceded Lil Nas X’s yeehaw-rap earworm “Old Town Road” by two months. Shaboozey later fine-tuned a more rootsy, guitar-driven sound for his 2022 paean to outlaw country, Cowboys Live Forever, Outlaws Never Die.

The growing opportunity for Black artists in country music arrives at a time of immense flux in the genre. Earlier this year, we witnessed a moment of solidarity when Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs performed a duet of “Fast Car” at the Grammys. It only further illuminated how the working-class values that once seemed so central to country music — the legacy of luminaries like Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn — have been stymied by white nationalism, commercialism, and increasing political polarization. Beyoncé famously ruffled feathers at the 2016 CMA Awards for performing her first-ever country song, “Daddy Lessons,” with the Chicks — a trio that had been blacklisted since 2003 for opposing the Iraq War. The frosty reception from the crowd, as well as the mounting racist attacks online, later inspired Beyoncé’s Black country-music revue, Cowboy Carter.

Invited by Queen Bey herself, Shaboozey appeared twice on Cowboy Carter — and subsequently landed his first-ever placements on the Billboard 200 and Hot 100. He tags along with a Jersey club beat on the Pharrell Williams–assisted “Sweet ★ Honey ★ Buckiin,’” then raps beside the early Black country pioneer Linda Martell in the grinding number “Spaghettii.” (“Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they?” muses Martell, the first Black woman to play the Grand Ole Opry. “In theory, they have a simple definition that’s easy to understand. But in practice, well, some may feel confined.”)

Released in May, Shaboozey’s third studio album, Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going, sees the recipe for his musical fusion both perfected and unfettered by the culture wars of today. Sung like a wizened desperado to a trap time signature and dressed in resplendent layers of weeping 12-string guitars, Shaboozey’s verses reflect the trials and tribulations that unite Americans of all stripes. Whether they’re about leaving town for a better life (“East of the Massanutten”), ending a dead-end relationship (“Highway”), or hitting up your favorite bar when reality gets overwhelming (“Bar Song”), his songs build bridges between the sonic and social worlds.

Shaboozey is so warm and down to earth on the phone that when he likens himself to an outlaw in his lyrics, it inspires an eyebrow raise. But if he’s going to play any kind, he may as well be a genre outlaw.

You have the No. 1 song in the country! Where were you when you found out? 

I don’t remember, honestly. Obviously, there’ve been a lot of predictions. People called me even before the news broke, saying that it would happen. I was probably somewhere on the road, prepping to do a show. I’m all over the place nowadays. I do a lot of radio events and one-off parties. The tour is in September.

So where is home for you at the moment?

I’m definitely a wandering person at the moment. But most of my belongings are in Los Angeles.

What was it like bringing out J-Kwon to perform a mashup with his 2004 hit “Tipsy” at the BET Awards this summer? 

It was really cool to bring my world to that space, bringing a genre of music that isn’t usually showcased at an event like that — coming out playing guitar with the choreography and the fiddle in the background. And you know, J-Kwon is a good friend of mine; he gave me that stamp of approval for the song. So it was really a dream come true.

This is a banner year for Black people in country music — but you’ve been waving this banner for a long time! What made you gravitate toward this sound?

I wanted to do something that represented where I was from. With Virginia being a southern state and having a lot of history, it just felt right to tap into those folk, Appalachian, and country roots. I didn’t really start by picking up instruments; a lot of my childhood was about sports and school. But I had so many friends who played music at my high school, and after seeing everyone jamming out, I wanted to be involved in the fun thing. I learned pretty early that I was good from the reactions of friends and teachers. I had a lot of ideas. It made sense for me to just pick up an instrument and write my own songs, or start them, at least.

Who was the first musician who made you realize you could do what you do now?

Hearing Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, bands like that. But you know, as much as people have these idols, I was lucky enough to have just a really creative friend group. We pushed each other and inspired each other to expand our sounds. Some newer acts out there have inspired me to explore more sounds over the years — acts like Colter Wall, I love his music. Zach Bryan is great, so is Kacey Musgraves.

How did Beyoncé lasso you into the world of Cowboy Carter?

She and her team just have their ear to what’s been going on in the space. There were not too many Black country acts out there before, but we’ve been making our presence known for a while. I’ve been working on this sound for almost ten years. With the last couple singles I put out, I think someone brought it to her attention and she thought I’d be a good addition to her project.

You spent some time at a boarding school in Nigeria. How did that inform your relationship with your American identity? 

It just pushed me to tap into my individuality. Going to Nigeria and being one of three Americans at my school, I didn’t always fit in there. I’m known to not fit in to most places, you know what I mean? Like, it’s still my family, and that’s still where I’m from, but I think coming back here, I embraced the idea of standing out.

What did you guys listen to in Nigeria? 

We were listening to a lot of the same music they were listening to — I heard T-Pain for the first time over there. Obviously, I remember some Afrobeats songs that were hits in Nigeria at the time and lots of other global music. It was a Christian boarding school, so we weren’t really allowed to listen to music, you know what I mean? A lot of what we heard were gospel songs.

Was there anything special you brought back with you to the U.S.?

I think Africans in general have a sense of rhythm and just a natural ability to create music without formal training. When I was in Nigeria, there were so many talented percussionists and singers, but they didn’t have the same infrastructure available to train. So my ability to just create songs and tell stories comes from there, and having more confidence in my approach.

What’s the biggest misconception about country music that you’d like to clear up?

Country music isn’t only what you hear on the radio. There’s a lot of different styles and different pockets. Before you kind of make a judgment about whether you like it or not, you should do more research. All the cool Americana, bluegrass, folk, neotraditional country sounds. You just have to listen.

What’s something people would be surprised to know about you?

I think I’m a pretty good rapper! People might know that already. But I mean, Ja Rule is one of my favorite artists.

What impression do you hope you leave people with when you first meet them?

“Wow, he’s taller than I thought.”

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