Lainey Wilson already had plenty of trophies and accolades before being named Variety’s Storyteller of the Year — like winning the CMA Award for Entertainer of the Year, generally considered country music’s top honor, the very first time she was nominated in 2023. But the story part in the name of the award she’s being given at Variety‘s Hitmakers event really means something to her.
“I’ve really been trying to perfect my craft since I was 9 years old,” Wilson points out, talking about how she would rush home from school to pick up her guitar and spin tales with it. “And so, thinking now about the full circle moment of being called a storyteller, I’m extremely flattered, because I’ve always known that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
For anyone who ever lost confidence in modern country, Wilson is an instant faith-restorer… and for those who didn’t need that kind of boost, she’s still obviously in the very front line of its contemporary practioners. Her third major-label album, “Whirlwind,” further establishes the multiple facets of someone who is one of the genre’s singular personalities. It’s a mixture of songs where the Louisiana native is clearly telling the story of her own life, more character-driven songs that invent a narrative for someone else, and a few that fall somewhere in-between, all of them lively, emotionally intelligent and indelible.
“With most of this record, I do feel like I had to live it to write it,” she says. “In opening up and writing music that is more personal to me, I think maybe that makes the listener feel like they can trust me… But it’s also important for me to tell stories for the people who feel like their story has never been told.” Here’s more of our conversation with Wilson.
You just hosted the CMA Awards. Hosting is about the quips, but you usually find something touching or inspirational to say when you accept an award, don’t you?
In my acceptance speeches and anytime that I get to stand there in front of a lot of people and say something, I want to make sure that it means something. I want to make sure that the little girls and boys watching and tuning in maybe see a little bit of themselves in me and can be like, you know, Lainey Wilson was a little girl from a town of 180 people with a big old dream and a lot of nos and lots of roadblocks, but she figured it out. I want to be that light in those kids’ lives, for sure.
If you mark anniversaries of important milestones for you in the business, is there one that stands out you like to celebrate? This year marked the 10th anniversary of your first independent release, way ahead of when you were signed to a major label. But you were in Nashville for longer than that. Is there a crux date you think of?
Yeah. For me it was Aug. 1 of 2011, when I officially came to Nashville to make the move. Always, when I come up around Aug. 1, I’m like, man, how has it already been 13 years? And the work didn’t just start when I moved to Nashville; I had been traveling back and forth to Nashville quite some time before then. But I mean, I’ve really been trying to perfect my craft since I was 9 years old. And not in an unhealthy way where my parents were pushing me to do something I didn’t want to do — this was what I wanted to do. I was playing sports and doing softball and basketball and cheering and running track, but when I would get home I would pick up my guitar and I would write music and I would tell stories, and that’s what I knew I wanted to do. And so, thinking now about the full circle moment of being called a storyteller, I’m extremely flattered, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.
There’s the old maxim that country music more than any other genre is about storytelling. And there are great examples of that on your latest album. In some cases, it definitely feels like your own story you’re telling. And then in a few others, it’s more clearly a piece of fiction or imagination… and maybe a few fall in the middle where, to the audience, it could be either one. Do you feel like that’s an important balance for you, to have songs on an album that people can see your narrative in, and then some where it might be a flight of fancy?
Yeah, I think you hit the nail on the head. Because, for most of this record, I do feel like I had to live it to write it. You know, songs like “4x4xU,” that’s where I am in my life right now. I’m in a happy, healthy relationship. And especially during this time of my life where it’s constantly changing, I’m really keeping my people close — the people who remind me who I am and the ones who remind me where I come from and encourage me to stay true to myself. That’s really important to me right now.
And on the other hand, you’ve got songs on the record like “Whiskey Colored Crayon.” It tells a story about a little kindergarten boy who shows up to class and he’s going through some things back at home. A lot of the time, people are unaware about all the things that happen behind closed doors, but this teacher has this encounter with him… You know, I come from a family of teachers. My mama was a teacher. My daddy even taught for a minute. Every single one of my aunts… My grandma was a principal for a while. I have a family full of teachers and I understand how important they have been to a lot of kids in their lives. And they see a lot of things at school that I think maybe just go unnoticed at times, and they play very important roles in these kids’ lives. And so, no, I’m not a teacher; I’m not that little kindergarten boy. But it’s important for me to tell stories for the people who feel like they don’t have a voice, or maybe for the people who feel like their story has never been told.
And on the other foot, too, a song like “Ring Finger,” it was me stepping into the shoes of another character and writing from that perspective. I will tell you, that’s a sassy character. I mean, she’s a little bit crazy. And the truth is, you know me — there’s definitely parts of that character that are me, you know? So when I would write that, I was a little bit like, OK, I can see myself in this girl. That specific story has never happened to me. But, I think we all have different parts of our personality, and I try to make sure that I show different sides of that — and sometimes that means having to step into the shoes of another character.
And then another example might be “Bar in Baton Rouge,” where the narrator sitting at the bar has one foot in Louisiana, one foot in the Rockies, and is feeling a little lost. That feels like more of a character song too.
Oh, for sure. Because the truth is, I’m not actually able to go home as often as I’d like to. But also, I’m not in that place right now where I’m having to get over something or somebody who did me wrong. But that has been me in the past, and it’s really important for me to also be able to tap back into those feelings that I’ve had in the past. And I mean, songwriting’s a weird thing, because you have to stay connected to the things that maybe have hurt you in the past, and also those good feelings that you’ve had in the past. So it’s kind of like holding on to certain things and bottling ’em up and reaching back down into that bottle every now and then.
And then there are those songs that seem pretty directly related to you, or that seem like they might be: “Whirlwind,” “Middle of It,” “Hang Tight Honey,” maybe “Good Horses.” With the title song, you’ve said that you were writing it with the thought that it might just be something that you’d play for friends and family. Do you sometimes have those moments where you just want to express what you’re feeling right then, and only belatedly do you remind yourself that people do want to hear your story?
Yeah. You know, I definitely thought in the middle of writing “Whirlwind,” and especially even afterwards, “This song is not gonna mean as much to other people as it does to me. Like, I’m gonna listen to this song for the rest of forever.” But it was pretty specific to me, and I just kind of thought, “All right, this song’s gonna go up on a shelf and collect dust, and it just is what it is. It’s gonna get me to the next song.” But what I’ve realized over the last few records is that the ones that are more specific, it feels like people are able to just pull from certain lines and be like, “Man, that line right there was written for me.” And that’s the cool thing about co-writing is you have three different sides to the story in the room and people are gonna be able to pull from all of it. But I’ve noticed that in opening up, singing songs and writing music that is more personal to me, maybe that makes the listener feel like they can trust me.
“Middle of It” is a song I found emotionally affecting, even though I couldn’t directly relate to the part about having a hit song, and having pictures on your wall that make you sad that you replace with gold records.
That’s it. It might be specific, but I think the cool thing about country music and storytelling is you kind of plug in your own thoughts into those lines. And whether it’s a record hanging on your wall or whatever it is, I think the whole thought behind it is, “Man, I thought that was the thing that was going to kill me and break me, and then it turns out there was something even better in store.”
You said in another interview recently, “I want to do this when I’m 95 years old.” And so that would seem to speak to your sense of yourself as a songwriter. Because there are certain things you won’t be able to do when you’re 95… like, the bell bottoms may fit differently at that point…
I hope not!
But you may be marching around the stage a little bit differently. But with songwriting, you’re kind of future-proofing yourself.
That’s it. I always tell people, the cool thing about songwriting and singing is, it’s not like sports. When you’re 80 years old, you’re not gonna be able to throw a basketball anymore. You’re not gonna be able to throw a punch. But you’ll always be able to pick up your guitar and tell a story. And that’s why I’m so thankful that I have that and I’m gonna have that forever, as long as my mind is right. That’s a good feeling, to have something that you love to do that you know is always gonna be there no matter what. Even if my career don’t look like it does now, I’m always gonna be able to tell stories. And stories that outlive me, you know?
Just to quickly ask about “Yellowstone,” since that’s obviously on much of America’s mind right now… As we speak your appearance in the final half-season has not aired yet. But it was finally confirmed that you were signed up for it, and people saw that you had filmed a concert scene a few months ago.
I personally don’t even know when my part’s gonna be airing, but I will tell you this: I only got my script, so I have no clue what the rest of the season is gonna look like. But if it has the same kind of feeling and attitude that my script has, I think it’s gonna be pretty badass, and I think people are gonna be excited to to see it end this way.
Was it hard to work filming into your schedule, since you’ve had a full touring schedule this year?
Thankfully, Taylor Sheridan and his crew and team, they knew when they asked me to do this, they were like, “We get it. You’re in the middle of touring. You’ve been in the middle of touring since you were in eighth grade. But we’re gonna figure it out.” And so they just made it work on our end. And so to have people who can just kind of understand the grind on the other end, it’s made it a lot easier than had they not really understood what they were getting themselves into.
Is it easy to say what your 2025 looks like?
Generally, we’re gonna be touring. We’re in the weeds of figuring all that out right now. But it’s fun. As our team grows and as the career grows and everything, with more people having their hands on things, it’s starting to really start to run like a well-oiled machine. And, because it happened so fast, it was just like, wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. But all of a sudden we’ve got lots of new team members, and I feel like now we’re kind of starting to get into the groove of it. So yeah, we’re just gonna be touring a lot, and hopefully filming some more stuff. We’ll see what that looks like. Just being creative — that’s what I want to do.