It might seem like country music has done all its evolving by this point, that the end game has been arrived at with its current mainstream pop sheen success. Where can it go from here other than reach back and try to recapture that western grit and sawdust authenticity that made it such a vital staple of American roots music in the twentieth century? Well, no, it is not quite as simple as that because with this debut album by Andrew Sa, there is an undeniable sense of country music making one further great leap forward. Admittedly it is less to do with the music, which draws on a multitude of vintage styles and influences, but we will come to that, and more to do with the straight edged posturing the original country music establishment prided itself on. Those good ol’ boys did not care much for long hairs, for hippies, for different ethnicities and they certainly had no place for queers. All of which makes the arrival of Andrew Sa quite the bold entrance. His music is informed by the folk and blues storytelling traditions for sure, but the real country DNA to his sound reaches back to the mournful ballads sung by Patsy Cline and Webb Pierce. On top of that Andrew proudly sings with vulnerability, raw emotion and tenderness. He is free to express, to sing of his experiences in the gay community and demand his songs a place in the country canon without inhibition.

The most direct reference to his place in the lineage can be found in lead single ‘Lavender Cowboy.’ It is a purposeful shout out to his late friend Patrick Haggerty, whose early seventies band Lavender Country were a pioneering influence on gay activism in the country community, but were ultimately shut out by an industry hostile to their open sexuality. Of the song Sa says, “I was chasing that elusive happy/sad bop, writing most of the song on my tenor guitar in a hotel room near Seattle, WA following Patrick’s ‘Celebration of Life.’ He inspired countless people and I wanted to capture the essence of that. There’s an old novelty/humor song by the same name that’s rather homophobic, so I also hope to rewrite the narrative on the ‘Lavender Cowboy.’” The song is a thing of yearning, pedal steel enhanced sweeping, elegant beauty. The perfect theme tune that ‘Midnight Cowboy’ never had. It also provides an opportunity for Andrew to flex his vocal range, his voice a mix of the buoyant balladeer and the fragile, cracked up font that is wrestling not to be overcome with his heavy feelings. A similar combination can be heard on ‘You Turned Me On’ although this one leans harder into a southern soul groove, the horns pushing the chorus to an elevation that when it arrives, positively rains down on us with sumptuous glory.   

Andrew Sa’s path to ‘American Rough’ begins in the cab of his father’s ’86 Ford F150, packed in with his siblings and absorbing the emotional charge of Reba, the Eagles, and top‑40 country while his dad occasionally pulled a Gibson Les Paul from under the bed like a secret doorway into a former life. After his mother remarried and launched a karaoke business, Sa was nudged onto stages as a child, already gravitating toward Patsy Cline’s saddest songs, an early sign of the aching balladry that defines this debut. He wandered for a while, falling hard for jazz singers and discovering queer icons like Rufus Wainwright and k.d. lang, whose unapologetic artistry cracked open his sense of what a queer performer could be. Acting stints in the Bay Area and Portland came and went, but a songwriting class at Chicago’s Old Town School of Folk Music rerouted everything, pulling him into a community of queer country misfits and collaborators (Liam Kazar, Sully Davis, Lavender Country, and the gloriously camp Cosmic Country Showcase) where his siren‑like croon became a fixture. By 2021, early sketches with Kazar led him to producer H.C. McEntire, whose raw, country rasp and emotional clarity felt like the missing piece. Together with co‑producer/engineer Missy Thangs and a wide cast of musicians, they built this album in North Carolina and Chicago; a tender, cinematic album meditating on queer longing, Chicago nights, and Sa’s evolving sense of masculinity, held together by the trust and vulnerability made possible under the guidance of two women at the helm. Ultimately this is an album that knocks down doors, not least to unleash an artist whose potential reaches way beyond the confines of a traditional community he is already pushing into a new era.

Danny Neill

You can get the album via this link: https://amzn.to/3QMIClY