February 2026: Who's Got Next?

In the late 90s and early 00s, there was an unspoken understanding in Texas music that nobody was waiting around on permission. It was always about the next man or woman up. If someone dropped a record that shook the room, you didn’t complain about it. You didn’t duck it. You went back to work. You wrote harder, practiced longer and tried to figure out how to meet that moment or top it. Because that’s what the moment demanded.

Landmark records were coming so fast it felt like a blur in real time. One classic barely had time to settle before another one arrived. And those were still the days when you bought the physical copy and lived with it. You didn't just speed through and sample 30 seconds at a time. Those cd's stayed in the player for weeks at a time. Until you knew it backward and forward. Every lyric, every note. And what’s wild looking back is how many of those records were debuts or second albums. Artists and songwriters coming right out of the gate with songs that would define careers and eras. No tiptoeing into the water, just a straight cannonball into the deep end. Courage came from conviction, truth, and a belief that the song mattered enough to give it everything you had.

That kind of environment changes people. When you’re surrounded by peer songwriters who are that locked in, it forces you to be honest with yourself. It raises the standard and you can’t fake it. The greatness around you demands more, and if you’re built for it, you rise to the challenge. That’s how scenes are forged. Not by one voice shouting the loudest, but by a group of voices pushing each other toward something better.

That's what started in Texas and Oklahoma during that time.

There was competition, sure. But it wasn’t the ugly kind. It was rooted in respect. You wanted your buddy to win, just not more than you. You wanted his record to be great, because it meant the scene was great, and if the scene was great, there was room for everyone to grow. Iron sharpening iron. Song sharpening song. Night after night, room after room.

Over time, that spirit kind of felt like it drifted away. The urgency dulled while the business and algorithm grew. The gaps between meaningful records grew wider. The monoculture became fractured. Things slowed down and some of the hunger naturally faded due to success. It's hard to be hungry in the penthouse when you used to sleep six to a Motel 6 double and get down the road in a beat up van that broke down at a moment's notice. It didn’t disappear completely, but it wasn’t the driving force it once was. And if you’ve been around long enough, you noticed it.

That’s why this current moment feels different. Familiar, even. It really feels like we're back in a moment.

I’m seeing that same spark again in this latest generation of writers. They’re not waiting around. They’re working. They’re showing up at each other’s shows. Trading songs, sharing stages. Pushing one another without tearing each other down. There’s pride there, but it’s paired with humility. A sense that they’re all part of something unfolding together. They've come along far enough from the genesis that they grew up in the game and can look back at it as a roadmap of what highways to take and what detours to avoid. There was no playback for the first generation, there is now.

What stands out most is the support. It’s genuine. These writers understand that if the room is strong, everyone benefits. They celebrate each other’s wins because they know it raises the ceiling for all of them. That kind of mindset doesn’t just create good songs. It creates longevity.

This is how it’s supposed to be.

Scenes thrive when artists care more about the work than the spotlight. When they’re inspired by their peers instead of threatened by them. When the goal isn’t just to get noticed, but to get better. The music always tells on those moments. You can hear it in the lyrics. You can feel it in the performances. You can sense it before you can explain it.

If the past is any indication, when that next man up mentality takes hold, something special is coming. Records that matter and songs that will last. Moments that people will talk about years from now and say, “That was a time.”

And the best part is, we’re not watching it through the rearview mirror anymore. We’re in it again. Who's got next?