“I hear the crowd, I look around, and I can’t find one empty chair. Not bad for a girl going nowhere” sings Ashley McBryde on “Girl Goin’ Nowhere,” the seminal title track from her forthcoming LP. They’re words built from experience: over the course of her life, growing up in Arkansas, McBryde’s been finding her own way to fill those seats and sway those hearts since the very first time her teacher told her that her dreams of writing songs in Nashville would never see the light of day. Every time she was brought down, she persevered; trusting her timeless tone and keen, unwavering eye for the truth. It paid off. In April, Eric Church brought her on stage and called her a “whiskey-drinking badass,” confessing that he’s a massive fan. The rest of the world is quickly catching on,

Dubbed as one of Rolling Stone’s “Artists You Need To Know,” citing she’s “an Arkansas red-clay badass, with the swagger of Hank Jr. and the songwriting of Miranda Lambert,” McBryde fearlessly lays it all on the line, and it’s that honest all-in approach that has led to NPR critic Ann Powers to ask if McBryde could be “among the first post-Stapleton country stars?” McBryde’s album will showcase an artistic vision that will prove her to be one of the genre’s keenest working storytellers, bringing unwavering honesty back into a pop-preoccupied genre. Pulling tales from every corner of her human experience – a happenstance love on “A Little Dive Bar In Dahlonega,” a neighbor with a heavy past on “Livin’ Next to LeRoy,” a girl with an impossibly possible dream on “Girl Goin’ Nowhere” – McBryde sings with fire and fury, laughing and swigging that brown stuff along the way. And she’s not going to do it in glitter and sequins, either, like a good lady of Music Row. McBryde will wear her boots and crack her jokes: with McBryde, what you see is what you get, and what you get is what you see.

It’s that authenticity bleeding through every lyric, riff and song that had McBryde’s name as the top trending item on Apple Music All Genre upon release of “A Little Dive Bar In Dahlonega.” It’s those lyrics that hit the heart and gut, like “here’s to the breakups that didn’t break us,” that scored her opening slots Chris Stapleton and Eric Church.

McBryde was raised in Mammoth Spring, Arkansas, taking to music at the age when most kids were running wild in the backyard, dressing dolls or playing with trains. At three, she’d secretly pluck her father’s guitar like an upright bass, and after about the 17th time being caught, her father bought her a guitar of her own. When she was twelve, she played her parents and grandparents her very first composition.

“It was about this awful torrid love affair,” says McBryde, laughing. “My mom was like, ‘oh shit. You are a twelve going on forty.’ At twelve I knew that I could make stuff up. At sixteen I was like, I’m getting good at this. By the time I got to college, I had a big catalogue for an eighteen-year-old.”

It was at Arkansas State when, while a member of the marching band, McBryde finally started sharing her voice with others – first at karaoke parties, then in a band, and then in Memphis where she’d play a mix of cover and original songs while still commuting from college. When McBryde finally moved to Nashville in 2007, she settled with a friend at an apartment in a building that housed storage units – not the most glamorous of homes, but enough of a place to crash in between a healthy dose of dive bars, biker hangouts, and colorful joints where she fought to have her songs heard.

Her first EP, the self-released 2016 Jalopies and Expensive Guitars was just a taste of what McBryde can do, and, on her full-length debut, she will meld her songwriting chops with the vision of producer Jay Joyce, peppering her tales with a touch of guitar-driven rock fury – but offering plenty of room for her emotive, vulnerable twang to move softly through songs like “Girl Goin’ Nowhere,” which was written the morning that Guy Clark passed away.

“I’m not a pretty crier, and I got to my write with Jeremy Bussey that morning, red and blotchy,” she says. “So he said, ‘for Guy, maybe we should write a good song, one you’d want to play at the Opry someday.’ So, I told the story of when I was back in Algebra class, and we were going around the room saying what we wanted to do when we grew up. When it got to me, I said, ‘I’m going to move to Nashville and write songs, and they’re going to be on the radio.’ The teacher looked at me and said, ‘that won’t happen and you better have a good backup plan.’ It didn’t put the fire out, it just added to it.”

That fire’s been described as a combination of Bonnie Raitt, Lzzy Hale and Loretta Lynn, and that’s not wrong: McBryde isn’t afraid to tell the truth, get raw and real and use the spirits of country, folk and rock when it serves her greater purpose. And McBryde indeed played “Girl Goin’ Nowhere” at her Opry debut, and still performs it on stage to crowds that now sing along. She gets emotional from time to time, remembering the days when she was working at a guitar shop or as a security guard or selling barbecue, never letting that vision go – a vision she will share on her forthcoming LP that will help remind Nashville what country music is about. And that’s the stories that shake us, make us and tell us a little more about what it’s like to be human.

And that girl goin’ nowhere, from a little town in Arkansas? She’s a whiskey-drinking badass, going everywhere. Just watch.

Lainey Wilson’s music is by equal measures richly textured and forthright – much like her honeyed Louisiana drawl, which is as likely to offer you a warm word of encouragement as it is to call you on your bullshit. Signed to BBR Music Group’s flagship imprint, Broken Bow Records, Wilson has spent years honing her song craft and developing her own “bell bottom country” sound, which is unapologetic, gritty, free-spirited, and exemplary of both her personality and her preferred fashion aesthetic.

Her songs and live performances are anchored in straightforward, raw emotion that doesn’t beat around the bush about who Lainey Wilson is - either as a person or an artist. NPR’s Jewly Hight calls Wilson “unabashedly down-home and unflappably worldly,” noting that “with a pronounced drawl and sweetened sting, [she sings] of willful recklessness, wielding the power of damaging secrets and feeling empowered by allowing herself outbursts of irreverence.” It’s these sensibilities that continue to draw listeners to Wilson’s music and led CMT to proclaim her one of their “Next Women of Country” for 2019. She’s a blue-collar daughter filled with ambition, humility, and perseverance; the value of an honest day’s work having been ingrained in her from the moment she could walk.

Hailing from the rural farming community of Baskin, Louisiana (pop. 300), where her family has tilled the land for five generations, Wilson cultivated her tenacious work ethic just as her family cultivated corn, wheat, soybeans, oats, and more. She learned that daily chores on the farm were a family affair, and every member had to do their part.

Music was also a family affair. Wilson’s father played guitar, her mother loved to dance, and her grandparents often took her to bluegrass festivals. She wrote her first song at age nine, and her dad taught her how to play guitar at age 11. Wilson’s love for writing and performing continued to grow as she booked herself gigs throughout high school, even working for a stint as a Hannah Montana impersonator performing at children’s birthday parties and events – with Lainey Wilson the artist opening for Montana, of course.

It wasn’t long until Wilson moved to Nashville to pursue her dream of making music, with little more to her name than that dream and a Flagstaff bumper-pull travel trailer. She lived in that camper outside of a longtime family friend’s recording studio for three years. It was during this time that Wilson began to make inroads with Nashville’s tight-knit songwriting community, forging invaluable creative relationships with other up-and-coming songwriters in town and steadily developing her own voice as both a writer and an artist.

“My songs are a part of who I am. As my artistry has grown, it’s just kind of taught me not to be ashamed of who I am. To love everything about my life – even the harder parts - because all those things make me who I am. And that’s true for everybody,” she says. “We never want to go through the hard times, but I’m thankful for the ones I’ve had. I’ve gotten the songs I have from those experiences, and I’ve found that the more vulnerable I am and the more truthful I am, whether it is funny or sad or whatever -- the more I am myself, the more people will honestly connect with me and my music.”

Wilson’s determined openness and salt-of-the-earth upbringing has prepared her well for the year ahead. She is starting 2019 with a supporting slot on chart-topping artist Morgan Wallen’s If I Know Me Tour before going in-studio to record her first project for Broken Bow Records. The year ahead may be full of early mornings, late nights, and many more firsts for the charismatic singer/songwriter, but Wilson remains undaunted – energized, even - by the long days ahead of her.

“Where I come from, there are years when you get a plentiful crop. Then there are years when you get too much rain, or not enough. Either way, you still have to get up every morning at the crack of dawn to take care of your crops. It’s the same with music,” she says. “We get up every single day and we work toward that good crop, no matter how hard. And we do what it takes, because it’s in our blood, and we don’t know any other way.”

$18.00 - $33.00

Tickets


Delivery of Print at Home / Mobile tickets will be delayed until July 19.

Adv $18

Day of Show $20
Door $20
Mezz 21+ $33

There is a $2 fee that applies to each ticket purchased at the Cain's Box Office.

No re-entry! No smoking! No refunds!

Support acts are subject to change without notice!

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