Fort Worth's Counterfeit Cowboy Is the Next Era of Classic Country

The war waging between pop country fans and oldhead country traditionalists may never end, but those aren’t the only two options for country music. Modern neotraditional country and progressive country artists like Zach Top or Billy Strings provide the best of both worlds, combining the old-gold authentic songwriting style with fresh, tasteful production elements and instrumentations that don't overpower the mix.

Texas has a rich history with both genres—George Strait is considered the father of the neotraditional movement, and Oak Cliff’s Michael Martin Murphy was a progressive country pioneer—but that was 40 years ago and more. Our output has certainly slowed as of late, but thankfully, Counterfeit Cowboy is out there pushing its sonic boundaries and showing up for DFW.

Their latest single, “Unsaid,” is just another notch on the belt for these contemporary country boys. Preston Hall, the Texan band’s Alabamian transplant and guitarist/lead vocalist, cuts through the atmosphere of heavily reverbed chords with his dusty voice. At the same time, Tyler Friedman’s steel guitar croons far off, bringing in that classic country sound. The smooth, mellow vibe set by the band is shockingly similar to Luna Luna, a bedroom pop band from Dallas, and sets a fitting stage for Hall’s introspective thoughts about God and the universe.

As it turns out, the band’s sonic direction was more of an organic blend of everyone’s musical interests than a conscious choice.

“I’m a classical pianist, so I work a lot of that into our stuff,” keyboardist/vocalist Ben Britain says. “Preston's a southern songwriter, so you get that, and then bassist Carson [Taylor] is a warlock-magician-poet. You just get a dash of everything.”

They also showcase a range of styles from song to song. Drummer John Waterworth guides the band through “New Orleans” with a steady pocket and tasteful tom fills. “20 Beers” is faster, with vibrant, moving basslines from Taylor and a more pointed approach from Waterworth.

“I know Alabama haunts me / It follows me where I go / You can hear my Southern accent, baby / In Paris or Mexico,” Hall sings in “New Orleans.” “And if I never make it / Back to New Orleans / I’ll be dancin’ down the Delta, darlin’ / If only in my dreams.”

The band also covered Cher’s “Believe,” transforming the late '90s pop hit into a soulful country ballad. The idea came from the group’s music business major, Britain, who says one of the best ways to introduce people to a new group is to cover a classic tune.

“Everyone knows it. Everyone loves it. It's been around forever, but it's not too cliché,” he explains.

His bright piano pairs well with Friedman's steel guitar's twang, while Waterworth carries along underneath with a satisfyingly fat punch from the snare. The band completely transformed the club hit into a heartfelt bar song that would kill at karaoke night.

They also save space to show off with an impressive instrumental section on every song. Britain comes in for a sweeping solo to close out “Believe.” “Unsaid“ has a nice fuzzy, distorted solo from Hall that matches its spacey vibe, but the jam-out near the end of “20 Beers” might be their best so far.

“Sylvie” is the band’s favorite song that they’ve written. Hall’s echoing vocals float far above muted acoustic strumming, distant synths and steel guitar to create an intoxicating, melancholic feeling of nostalgia. What makes the song even more special is that it’s a true love story from the perspective of their late guitar teacher, Calvin Chynoweth.

“They met at a Halloween party and locked eyes in the mirror,” Britain says. “Are you kidding me? The opening line of the song, right there.”

In fact, Counterfeit Cowboy might not exist without Chynoweth; he’s the reason Taylor and Britain met in the first place.
“Ben had been taking guitar lessons from him for a few years before I started, and Calvin was like, ‘Okay, these are my two best students, let's introduce them,’ and it was just off to the races,” Taylor recalls. “We lived right down the street from each other, too, and he was in the grade below me, so I didn't know him before.”

“So we like to pay homage when we can in live shows and recorded songs,” Britain continues. “And ‘Sylvie’ was a song all five of us sat down to write together, which is fairly uncommon. That one was a true group effort, which was really special.”

From there, the two middle schoolers “roped in their drummer friend,” Waterworth, and started their first band, 11:11. They played throughout high school, frequently lying about their age to get into gigs at bars in Deep Ellum. When the guys graduated, they all went to different colleges and started new bands.

Normally, this is where the story ends, and everyone goes their separate ways. But that wasn’t the case for Counterfeit Cowboy. They all found themselves back home after college, and the old itch to make music came right back. The 11:11 trio was back together, with the addition of Hall, Taylor’s bandmate from his time at the University of Alabama.

“He landed in the same dorm that I lived in, which was the shittiest dorm on campus,” Hall recalls. “We met and formed Yellow Jammer, which had a southern rock sound.”

The guys coined Counterfeit Cowboy and moved in together. Only two weeks before recording “Sylvie” and “Prayin’ on a Song,” they found Friedman behind the counter at their local guitar shop—the puzzle was finally complete. They’ve released six solid songs since forming last year and are excitedly preparing for their sophomore season.

“Going forward, I think we want a new sound,” Britain says. “We're trying out a new studio in Fort Worth, a new producer, maybe a more stripped sound.”

Given the ground they’ve covered, whatever they release next is something to look out for. Until then, you'll have to catch them live to taste their new material. Luckily, they have multiple upcoming shows, including performances at Dallas’ Double Wide on May 2 and Second Rodeo in Fort Worth on May 9, with more dates stretching into June. Tickets for the Double Wide show are here.

“We like seeing people dance to our music,” Britain says. “It’s just extra special. I also like people dissecting it; I like people asking questions. There’s a lot of deep themes.”

Carson adds, "It’s a great way to find a connection."