Beyoncé, “COWBOY CARTER.”

“Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they?” asks Linda Martell—the first commercially successful Black female country artist in history—in an audio clip about halfway through COWBOY CARTER. “In theory, they have a simple definition that’s easy to understand,” she continues, “But in practice, well, some may feel confined.”

But nothing can confine Beyoncé, whose newest project is her most ambitious to date.

Preceded by the widely acclaimed house-influenced RENAISSANCE, Beyoncé had big shoes to fill in the second installment of her ongoing three-act project. And when this second act was revealed to involve country music, public discourse ensued. While some country radio stations barred Beyoncé’s initial singles, others argued for the powerful statement of reclaiming a sound originally created by Black people and today seen as a white genre. And then Beyoncé herself joined the conversation to make her intentions clear.

“This ain’t a country album. This is a ‘Beyonce’ album,” the artist said online in the days leading up to the release. The sentiment rings true. When Beyoncé chooses to go all-in on country, her Southern roots and unparalleled voice allow her to fit right into the genre as if it has been her signature sound for her entire career. But this record does nothing if not defy labels, jumping from genre to genre and making constant unexpected twists and turns.

Over an extensive 27 tracks, the massive COWBOY CARTER abandons the conceptual narrative tracklisting seen on 2016’s Lemonade and the cohesive transitions of RENAISSANCE to tune listeners into a fictional radio show broadcast (Jon Batiste just did something similar with a focus on global music), helping explain and smoothen the jarring jump between sounds. The radio’s hosts are country legends like Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton, who have cameos on short, fun interludes.

On the first half of the record, Beyoncé delves into her love for her family as well as the hardships she’s overcome in both her career and personal life. “PROTECTOR” is a gorgeous ode to her children, with some of the star’s most complex and eloquent songwriting of her entire career: “An apricot picked right off a given tree /I gave water to the soil and now it feeds me.” She takes on a more aggressive tone in a unique rendition of Dolly Parton’s iconic “JOLENE,” threatening the woman whom she fears is trying to take her man.

This part of the album also includes masterfully written and emotionally charged country power ballad “16 CARRIAGES,” which is not only an album highlight but a career highlight. “At 15, the innocence was gone astray,” Beyoncé sings about an early loss of youth.

She rarely plays it safe on this record, but there are a few exceptions. Her faithful rendition of The Beatles’ “BLACKBIRD” is elegantly arranged and performed, but the unimaginative track feels out of place as the second song on the record. “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” is a fun line-dancing tune, but if you asked AI to create a Beyoncé country song, it would probably come up with the same yeehaw cliches.

But for the rest of the project, safe is simply not a word in Beyoncé’s vocabulary. On the wickedly vengeant “DAUGHTER,” she spends a verse nailing the Italian opera aria “Caro Miro Ben.” Later, she indulges in moments of hip-hop on “SPAGHETTI” and psychedelic soul on “II HANDS II HEAVEN.”

The record’s features are a mixed bag; Beyoncé and Miley Cyrus each carry their own while also letting their chemistry shine on the sweet and simple “II MOST WANTED,” but the same can’t be said about Post Malone’s unnecessary feature on “LEVII’S JEANS,” on which Malone’s awkward flow lowers the quality of the otherwise funky track.

As the record progresses, the country theme continues to fade, and the fierce Beyoncé we know and love emerges. “Bounce on that shit, dance,” she repeats during the rhythmic refrain of “RIIVERDANCE.”

Finally, the album comes to a close with “SWEET ★ HONEY ★ BUCKIIN’’ and “AMEN,” the first of which is a three-part Pharrell-Williams-produced extravaganza, with Beyoncé calling out the discrimination she’s faced in the music industry, including a—valid and deserved—jab at the Recording Academy for her repeated Grammy snubs. “AMEN” wraps up the album with a sweeping soundscape that bookends the whirlwind of an album in the same choral sound as the opening track.

With COWBOY CARTER, Beyoncé proves that she can do just about everything, and that she isn’t afraid to innovate while also being willing to embrace her roots. Her ability to fit into and nail seemingly infinite genres of music is truly astonishing.

This album isn’t a country album, it’s a Beyoncé album. Beyoncé just happens to be country as hell.