Toby Keith first gained national recognition in 1993 with his tongue-in-cheek No. 1 hit “Should’ve Been a Cowboy.” Along with a slew of like-minded country artists, he was a part of the neo-traditionalist movement that was intent on wresting the radio waves from the slick pop product pushers of the time. In the late-1990s he released a string of country hits that showcased his deep vocals and decidedly uptown yet tasteful arrangements. Then shortly after the turn of the century, Keith reinvented himself as a controversial crooner of sorts after recording 2002’s “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American),” which was one of the first country songs to cash in on the 9-11 tragedy with its vengeful lyrics promising that America would put a “boot in the ass” of the terrorists. The song was an instant hit with red state country music fans and compelled ABC News anchor Peter Jennings to protest Keith’s appearance on a network Fourth of July special. Of course tons of media hoopla followed, giving Keith the kind of priceless promotion that propelled “Courtesy” into legendary crossover hit status. Since then, Keith has continued to crank out the kind of roadhouse honky-tonk country songs that he began his career with, but he also stuck with what made him the most money — riling up angry right wing Americans. His 2003 album Shock’n Y’all (it sounds like “Shock And Awe” when you say it out loud) featured a song entitled “The Taliban Song,” that referred to Middle Eastern men as camel herders. In interviews, Keith dismisses these kinds of songs as “bus songs,” tunes that he pens for fun, and were never meant to be released until his fans insisted. But not all of his “bus songs” are politically charged. Keith’s “Weed With Willie” (also from Shock’n Y’all) makes light of Willie Nelson’s love for incredibly strong marijuana and “Grain of Salt” from 2006’s White Trash With Money serves as a tourist’s tequila anthem.
- Eric Shea

Merle Haggard is one of the most influential country music Singer-Songwriters since Hank Williams. His career began when he snuck backstage to meet country legend Lefty Frizzell as a teen. Impressed by his songs, Frizzell refused to go back on stage until Haggard went up and sang a song — to a warm audience response. Along with Buck Owens and Wynn Stewart, he was a pioneer of the Bakersfield country music scene in the 1960s, a working-class legend who sang torn and frayed narratives. Haggard’s deep and throaty vocal style was influenced by Stewart’s phrasing, his music touched by a subtle mix of blues, jazz, folk and Western Swing. Haggard’s quality of songwriting has remained consistently ahead of the rest; country music wouldn’t be the same without him.
- Eric Shea

Aside from Gram Parsons, no one has influenced Americana music as much as Creedence Clearwater Revival. Their gritty fusion of swamp pop, country rock, hillbilly soul, and a driving dose of Southern-inspired R&B gave the band their trademark “chooglin’” sound. Formed by John Fogerty in 1967 out of El Cerrito, Calif., the band released seven futile singles on Fantasy Records as the Golliwogs. In 1968, they changed their name and CCR’s first album was a hit, largely due to the rustic rendition of “Suzie Q.” While they were geographically close to the Haight-Ashbury scene, songs like “Fortunate Son” revealed that the band didn’t identify with the prevalent counterculture (in part made up of trust-funded hippie kids at the time). Fogerty’s vision of a good party was painted in the bouncy strut of “Down on the Corner,” a song that proved that white boys could get funky. CCR broke up in 1972, and Fogerty’s successful solo career spawned similar songs, sealing any existing doubts that he was the central songwriter in the band.
- Eric Shea

If thrift store record bins are any sort of barometer, it would seem that every person in America at one time owned a John Denver record. By this same logic, you can also guess to say that they all tossed them out at the same time. At some point, John Denver went from being America’s most loved singer-songwriter to being the punchline on late-night talk shows. Blame it on overexposure or his constant mugging with Muppets, George Burns, and other bloodless creatures. Eventually, his humanitarian concerns took precedence over his folk/pop and when the author of such heart-on-a-sleeve snapshots as “Sunshine On My Shoulder” and “Rocky Mountain High” died in a plane crash in 1997, everyone felt like a big jerk.
- Eric Shea