Texas native Lou Ridley makes ‘anti-country country’ on her own terms
Singers and musicians are often quick to shy away from labels. They are always classified by genre (rap, R&B), sometimes separated by language (Latin pop) and even singled out by hair color (blond bombshell, pink-haired rocker).
Texas native Lou Ridley, however, embraces her taglines. She calls her music “anti-country country.”
“Sometimes, in order to spark that conversation, you have to be a little abrupt. If anything, the label has made people pay attention to me that normally wouldn’t,” she says. “I think it’ll pique people’s interest, and I do truly believe that the country sphere is very behind.”
Ridley, who was born in Houston, describes herself as a “human rights witch” on her Instagram bio. It’s a reference to her work in Los Angeles with nonprofits and advocating for oppressed communities in general. It’s also a twist on a personal insult.
“The last couple of guys that I’ve dated say that I’m a witch, so I just added that onto the end of it,” she says with a smirk. “If you’re gonna keep calling me one, then I’m gonna act like one.”
Ridley was raised in Southlake among “super-country people.” The first song she remembers singing as a kid was Garth Brooks’ “Shameless,” fueled by her dad’s love for country music. As she got older, Ridley gravitated to more soulful voices: Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, Bill Withers.
Today, she cites three — Holiday, Lady Gaga and Dolly Parton — as prime forces in her life, as much for their stories of struggle and success as their music.
All those influences are readily apparent in Ridley’s music, an evocative blend of country, soul and rock. She has a powerful, piercing voice that’s beautifully showcased on her “Angel/Outlaw” EP. “Delivered” is a stomping, spiritual rumination on a broken relationship. “Blind Eye” has a polish that’s perfectly suited to radio. R&B standout “Dirt” could easily be a hit for Mary J. Blige or Jazmine Sullivan.
At times, Ridley’s voice recalls Maren Morris. But the songs are much bolder and more bracing. Earlier this month, Ridley quit her Nashville office job and signed with a label, Good Partners, to further her reach. She’s working on new music that she says continues to blur stylistic boundaries.
Ridley earned considerable attention for her 2021 single “Hometown,” a brutal recollection of her teenage years in Southlake. She sings about being bullied by the popular girls and admits to feeling helpless when she was sexually assaulted.
“Couldn’t tell a soul, couldn’t tell my friends/ Nobody helped, just asked what I was wearing…”
Southlake was the subject of a six-part MSNBC podcast, detailing its racist history and current battles over critical race theory in schools. The city has been thrust into the spotlight multiple times in recent years when videos surfaced of high school students chanting the N-word.
The song itself is a difficult listen. But it’s also a refreshing contrast to mainstream country’s obsession with a sanitized version of small-town life. Ridley hasn’t returned to Southlake since she left and even avoids driving through it when she comes to Texas.
“I’m so happy that people are still having those positive experiences, but it’s just kind of (expletive), to be honest,” Ridley says. “So many girls I went to high school with found me and said, ‘I left Southlake because I was sexually assaulted.’ A girl I used to babysit, who lived across the street, found me on SnapChat and said, ‘My mom sent me your song, and I couldn’t believe it because I left for the same reason.’ ”
The “anti-country country” label, then, just means she refuses to play by the rules established by Nashville and mainstream radio. It’s also in line with the cultural reckoning that country music continues to grapple with today. It’s still virtually impossible for anyone who doesn’t fit the mold to be truly accepted.
Orville Peck, a gay man, and Mickey Guyton, a Black woman, are prime examples. For all the attention they receive, both have yet to score a substantial hit on country radio. Ridley hopes to be a small part of changing that.
“What is that phrase? ‘Wellbehaved women rarely make history.’ And I’m not the only artist doing it, which we all know. It’s a group of us who don’t have a fear of the unknown and who aren’t intimidated by being excluded from something we were never gonna be included in anyway,” Ridley says. “More than anything, I want to be one of the voices that’s moving the Western world and our culture forward in general. I want to be a part of that conversation.