In April 2017, 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, too. Dubbed by NPR as “country music’s most exciting new country voice” and Rolling Stone citing she’s “an Arkansas red-clay badass, with the swagger of Hank Jr. and the songwriting of Miranda Lambert,” Ashley McBryde fearlessly lays it all on the line, and it’s that honest all-in approach that has led to The New York Times critic Jon Caramanica to opine that “the still beauty in her singing is impressive, but her easeful storytelling feels practically radical.” McBryde’s album showcases an artistic vision that proves 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 doesn’t do it in glitter and sequins, either, like a good lady of Music Row. McBryde wears her boots and cracks her jokes: with McBryde, what you see is what you get, and what you get is what you see.