Country music in the mid-'90s was a big influence on my career

Hear the words of Jason Aldean, country singer and keeper of memory: “Country music in the mid-’90s was a big influence on my career, and I played all the songs that are referenced in ‘94’ back in my club days. Joe Diffie was rocking a sick mullet, and he was hotter than ever… just putting out monster hit after monster hit. It totally takes me back to those days, and it makes me smile every time I hear it.” In these words, Aldean reveals not only nostalgia, but the eternal power of music to shape identity, to carry the past into the present, and to kindle joy even in the face of time’s passage.

The origin of this truth lies in the mid-1990s, a golden age of country music when voices like Joe Diffie, Alan Jackson, and Garth Brooks ruled the airwaves. Their songs were more than melodies—they were stories, anthems of small-town life, heartbreak, resilience, and laughter. For Aldean, then a young man honing his craft in clubs, these sounds became his teachers, his companions, his blueprint for the artist he would one day become. What he calls “monster hits” were, in truth, pillars of a culture, rhythms that moved countless lives.

The ancients too knew this power of song. The Greeks spoke of Orpheus, whose lyre could tame wild beasts and soften the hardest hearts. The Hebrews sang of David, who soothed the troubled spirit of King Saul with music. In every age, the songs of a people carried their spirit, their struggle, their hope. To Aldean, the country music of the 1990s was just such a lyre, shaping his soul and reminding him, even now, of who he was and how far he has come.

There is in his words the presence of memory—that strange, sacred bridge between past and present. When Aldean hears those songs, he is transported, not only to the sound of guitars and fiddles, but to the smoky clubs where he first played, to the excitement of youth, to the dream of what might be. The music does not just entertain; it awakens. It stirs up the passion of beginnings and makes him smile, not only for the past, but for the path that music carried him through.

History offers us countless parallels. Consider Johann Sebastian Bach, whose works were inspired by the sacred hymns of his youth. Centuries later, when he composed his masterpieces, he was still drawing on those first melodies, the sounds that shaped his earliest vision. Or think of Bob Dylan, whose career was steeped in the folk traditions he heard as a young man, carrying them forward into songs that would stir generations. In each case, the influence of earlier voices became the soil in which new greatness grew.

Aldean’s reflection also reveals the heroic role of those who came before—Joe Diffie and others, whose “monster hits” prepared the way for a new generation. Without the blaze of their trail, Aldean’s own voice might not have found its audience. This is the eternal cycle: the songs of one age become the foundation for the songs of the next. To remember them, to honor them, is to acknowledge that no artist stands alone, but all are part of a great river of music flowing through time.

The lesson, then, is profound: never forget the roots that shaped you, nor the voices that inspired you. Whether in art, in work, or in life, we are all influenced by those who came before us. Their stories, their songs, their struggles—they form the foundation upon which we build. To remember them with gratitude, as Aldean does, is to honor both past and present.

Therefore, beloved, let this be your practice: revisit the songs that shaped your youth, the voices that made you dream, the influences that carried you forward. When you hear them, let them bring a smile, not of longing for what is gone, but of gratitude for the journey you have walked. And as you build your own life, create in such a way that others, years from now, may also look back to your time and say: “That was the music of my soul, and it still makes me smile.”