Charles Wesley Godwin, alongside a rootsy rock era, achieve break out at Ryman Auditorium

Charles Wesley Godwin's first of two headlining nights at Nashville's Ryman Auditorium ended at the stroke of Friday morning with a solid half-hour of foot-stomping rock revelry solely borne south of the Mason-Dixon Line.

The evening's greatest take from nearly 3,000 people ending the night singing a 50-year-old John Denver folk standard?

Country music's ever-popular rocky roads are leading many Americans back to the healing they feel belongs to them.

The event heralded the zenith of a year-long growth for the 30-year-old West Virginia native that, until recently, was believed to have peaked with his signing to Big Loud Records and the release of his major label debut album "Family Ties."

However, Godwin has yet to consistently play in venues where hard-charging folk-rock moments and healing, introspective balladry could elicit responses that peel the ghosts of hallowed traditions off the walls and back into the atmosphere of legendary rooms.

He's in an era where that notion is becoming a nightly occurrence influencing his decade-long craftsmanship.

Wyatt Flores and Charles Wesley Godwin are sharing a road to star-making acclaim

A rare moment has arrived in the Americana, bluegrass, country, folk and rock intersection. For most of the close of 2023, Godwin and his opener (alongside Kentuckian Cole Chaney), Wyatt Flores -- an Oklahoma-born college dropout and invigorator of Stillwater's mystical and perpetually unexpectedly pop-aimed singer-songwriter tradition -- have been intertwined on Americana's album and radio charts.

Flores, now signed to Island Records, has released "Life Lessons," an EP that includes his latest underground-to-mainstream hit single "West of Tulsa."

Alongside his January-released, painstakingly beautiful love ballad "Break My Bones," ("I'd rather drown in the darkest water / I'd rather burn in the devil's fire / Then to ever think of tearing us apart / I'd rather break my bones / Then break your heart"), he's gained in appeal in a manner similar, but different to Godwin.

Americana's radio and album charts this year also saw an appearance by the Country Music Association's Entertainer of the Year, Lainey Wilson, who paired with Lukas Nelson for the Americana chart-topper "More Than Friends."

On Thursday night, the reverberations were as loud as the cheers at country music's Mother Church for Americana acts inspired by rock n' roll. Given other trends in the intersection of these sounds, the concert highlighted appealing vibrancy not seen in a half-century for the roots-driven sonic realm.

In 2024, Godwin will play arenas and stadiums with Luke Combs, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit and Turnpike Troubadours. Acts like Wyatt Flores and Cole Chaney will likely find sway with many other award-winning acts of growing mainstream renown in this burgeoning pop space.

No name brands this cultural and social explosion. However, it inspires a love of music as an ideal outlet for youthful indiscretions in the face of America's most trying era.

These acts could be "the real deal"

Close your eyes when Godwin earnestly sings about a rendezvous with his wife as "adding another leaf to the family tree" or inspiring passion similar to that which he follows his own North Star of sustaining creative vision in "Family Ties."

Or, open them as he and his Lynyrd Skynyrd inspiration-drenched Allegheny High bandmates watch lead guitarist (and Godwin's producer) Al Torrence galavant with his guitar and run across The Ryman's upper balcony, then all lie on their backs onstage, to also allow drummer Joe Pinchotti an extended solo in "Shrinks and Pills."

In both instances, the crowd's roar is so palpable that it feels like a layer of cotton massaging your eardrums. Open your eyes from that dreamlike state and you're aware it's all real -- and all great.

In 2022, Charles Wesley Godwin began playing shows for crowds 25 times bigger than they were in years prior. At the end of 2024, he'll be playing for crowds 30 times larger than that.

It's a stunning but not shocking evolution.

At its most appealing, Godwin's stylings feel like a coal dust-choked heart beating for dear life on a flannel sleeve. That energy translates into people hollering loudly, throwing cowboy hats into the air and feeling like Godwin's cover of Zach Bryan's "Jamie" is somehow a winnable underdog story of beating the cops chasing you from the bar home to your partner at 5 a.m.

At its darkest, songs like "Miner Imperfections" make healing generational guilt feel like liquor for the soul. A strange thing allows a song's delivery to change a traumatic demon into a soothing device. However, Godwin, on multiple occasions, does just that.

Much like earlier-mentioned openers Chaney and Flores, Godwin's ability to switch energies on the fly and make it feel like his music is a locomotive train headed from somewhere to nowhere is equally terrifying and profound.

In total, all of their work would drip with hipster irony if they were anything less than prodigally gifted at enrapturing wide-eyed and open-minded audiences. However, they're all realizing they could be the real deal and impressively shouldering the burden.

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Charles Wesley Godwin headlines at Ryman Auditorium