The rising country star writes about disastrous love and learning big lessons with charm, wit and solid hooks. Her new LP, “Am I Okay?,” is due Friday.
The budding country star Megan Moroney was 36 stories above Times Square last month, waiting to meet some of her biggest fans, who were among the first invited to hear “Am I Okay?,” her eagerly anticipated second album.
As she prepared to greet her guests in the glass aviary atop the Hard Rock Hotel, Moroney admitted she’d culled them via social media, group chats and meet and greets. “They don’t know I stalk them,” she said after slipping into a cobalt mini dress from Zara and a pair of metallic Balmain stiletto boots. Her hair teased into a butter-blond cloud, she joked, “It’s 20 pounds of hair and 10 pounds of makeup.” It’s a look her fans recreate to varying degrees, but they’re also drawn to the way Moroney embraces the moments most people airbrush out of their Instagram-perfect lives.
One example is the closer of “Am I Okay?,” which is due on Friday: the spare, simple “Hell of a Show.” It’s just a verse and a chorus, a raw artist singing over an acoustic guitar about being jerked around by a self-absorbed boyfriend, pulling it together to slay a crowd of people who “love me better than you could’ve,” but still crying herself to sleep.
It’s hard to believe there’s anyone who isn’t clamoring for the attention of this 26-year-old rising songwriter. Moroney was the leading female nominee at the Academy of Country Music Awards this spring, competing for top prizes alongside Kacey Musgraves and Lainey Wilson. Her rocket-ship trajectory began with “Tennessee Orange” in 2022, a Romeo and Juliet ballad for fans of SEC football, which earned her 18 record company offers and nominations for both the A.C.M.s’ and the Country Music Association Awards’ song of the year. (She ultimately signed with Sony’s Nashville and Columbia’s New York divisions.)
Four years ago, when Moroney released her first EP, she seemed like just another attractive Nashville hopeful in a city overstocked with them. At least on paper. But she had ideas about how to become a star, and they started with her songwriting. Wry, vulnerable and a real reflection of how 20-somethings drink and wreck their hearts, Moroney’s songs are authentic in a way the Music Row system can rarely access.
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Source: Music - nytimes.com
