Beyoncé's 'Cowboy Carter' is a portrait of the artist getting joyously weird

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After two months of anticipation, Cowboy Carter has been out in the world for nearly a fortnight, and the discourse is thick as sawdust on a honky-tonk floor. Beyoncé's spangled opus, as lengthy and florid as a Sergio Leone classic — it really could have been called The Good, the Bey and the Ugly -- has generated more think pieces than any pop phenomenon since her friendly rival Taylor's Eras tour.

I've kept track of the coverage of and it's, well, something. Actually it's everything, ranging from to (not too many) . Not weighing in hasn't been an option for most music writers, who have spilled tons of ink documenting the album's backstory, tracing its references, and examining its work of legacy building. What could I add to the discourse? Well, this: Whether it's considered a champion's walk, an overlong — one thing is, undeniably even if no one has said it, is weird. And that's a wonderful thing.