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ric Church has a story he wants to tell me. It’s mid-May, a month since the country superstar first sat down for what will become his Rolling Stone Interview, and a lot has happened in that time. For one thing: Bruce Springsteen heard Church’s new album, Evangeline vs. the Machine, an adventurous project that introduces orchestral and choral sounds to Church’s rebellious brand of country music.
Calling from London, where he’s about to headline Royal Albert Hall, Church recounts a recent backstage visit with Springsteen in Manchester, England, just before he and the E Street Band kicked off their 2025 overseas tour. “He held out his hand, and goes, ‘I just finished listening to your record again, and it’s wonderful. It’s really creative, but the biggest thing is, it’s brave,’” says Church, whose 2011 hit “Springsteen” paid homage to the New Jersey legend. “He said, ‘The arrangements are great and your producer did a great job, but that bravery only works if the songs are great. And the songs are great.’”
Church sighs, still savoring the moment. “When you put out a record that’s like this, you’re looking for things that steel you in that resolve,” he says. “I walked out of there going, ‘Whatever happens, happens at this point.’”
The North Carolina native is used to doing things on his own terms. In 2009, Church bucked Music Row etiquette by releasing the pot anthem “Smoke a Little Smoke.” During the pandemic, he appeared on the cover of Billboard getting the Covid vaccine, a bold choice for a country artist during the vaccine culture wars of 2021. More recently, Church staged his own Springsteen on Broadway-inspired show at his Nashville bar, Chief’s, playing 23 shows for intimate, phone-free audiences, armed with just a guitar and a knack for storytelling. The residency, moving and shockingly personal, was a smash success, and in the middle of it, Church attempted to bring its man-and-a-guitar aesthetic to a headlining performance at Stagecoach Festival in 2024. To some of the 70,000 watching, the stripped-down show was a masterful display of risk-taking. But those who came expecting hits like “Drink in My Hand” and instead received mostly covers and gospel traditionals were pissed.
Church talked about all of this and more over three conversations, the longest back in April at a horse ranch in Tennessee, where he was being photographed for this story. His tour bus was parked nearby, and he welcomed RS aboard the ride, tastefully decorated with posters for old shows he’s played, for a deep-dive conversation about his life and career. In a hoodie advertising Field & Stream, the outdoors magazine he and friend Morgan Wallen bought last year, Church relaxed at the bus’ table while popping Zyn nicotine pouches and drinking Bold Rock hard cider. “It’s made in North Carolina,” he notes proudly.
David McClister
Zyn, huh? Tell me about that.
So, here’s what happened. I did Dry-uary, and I was out fishing with some buddies. You’re sitting there on a boat, which is miserable when everybody’s drinking but you. And one of them had Zyn. I used to chew a long time ago. They’re like, “They’re tobacco-free,” and they’re making them sound healthy. “OK, I’ll take one,” and that was it. The next time I do Dry-uary, I’ll probably get back on cocaine [laughs]. Give up something, pick up something.
The title of your new album is interesting. Who is Evangeline?
Creativity. And the Machine is the world that we live in now. Technology-wise, it can either choke out or round the edges off creativity. So, the best stuff, the most creative stuff, has to fight the hardest to find its way, and that’s what this was. You can listen to this entire album, and if you learn nothing else from it, you learn it’s wildly creative, versus a time where not much out there is.
Were you thinking of the Band with the album name and title track?
Oh, yeah, very much. You can tell that on the horn intro to “Evangeline.” My favorite band is the Band. If you look at their career, they made some wildly creative stuff in a time where there was a lot of commercial stuff going on that didn’t sound like that. There’s a lot of similarities between what they did in their period of time and what this record is.
There’s a lot of French horn on the album.
And flute. The way we did this record was different than normal, and that started getting informed from the Stagecoach show.
Let’s talk about that. At Stagecoach in 2024, you played a one-man show with a gospel choir and did primarily covers. A lot of fans left. One guy next to me was shouting, “Play your own fucking songs!”
The hardest thing I’ve ever done is that Stagecoach show, because there’s one guitar for about 70 minutes, and I ended up having to even play the kick drum. I had to be my own drummer, and I couldn’t change guitars. So, the level of difficulty was high, but what I found was it was [the choir] that really saved my ass.
What was the goal with the performance?
I knew I wanted to do a one-of-a-kind show, and I knew maybe the worst place for the presentation would have been Stagecoach. But I also knew that it would have been the biggest megaphone, that there were going to be 30,000 TikTokers who were there to be seen. The show wasn’t for them. If we did that [performance] as a one-off at [one of Church’s usual] shows, people would have tore their clothes. It would have been a revival. But [at Stagecoach] I knew I was getting a casual thing where they’re wanting to hear “Drink in My Hand,” and they’re wanting to hear what they want to hear. And I’m giving them none of that.
The response was like Dylan going electric. Was there a moment where you’re realizing things are going south and you start to think, “God, what have I done?”
PBS did a documentary on the performance, and there’s a point in time, maybe 30 minutes in, where you can see that I know and I smile.… There’s a part of me, I can be antagonistic. I enjoy the antagonistic. So, when that started happening, I doubled down. I’ll tell you this, I’ve never had more people reach out to me … and I won’t name them because of what it would mean … but like Mount Rushmore artists that found my cell number, and in the days after, texted me: “Dude, that’s one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen. And you’re very ballsy.” [Laughs.]
David McClister
You didn’t change course for Evangeline vs. the Machine. Instead, you brought in not only the choir, but horns and strings.
Oh, I knew it was right. After Stagecoach, I said, “This is perfect. That’s what it needs to be.” I want passion, that’s all I want. I don’t care if it’s negative passion, because the negative passion in my career has always been matched on the other side by the positive passion. It’s the middle where things dry.
What do you think about the idea of fan ownership of an artist? In 2022, some fans criticized you for canceling a concert so you could go to an NCAA Final Four game with your kids.
It’s a good question. We always try to give fans an experience that they spend their hard-earned money for. We work really hard to make sure that we feel like we earn that. But specifically about the Final Four, that was a unique thing, because of the way the tournament works, this wasn’t something that I could plan for. If Carolina and Duke had not been playing each other, I would not have been there, but for them to be in the Final Four for the first time ever, and having young kids, I just wasn’t going to miss the opportunity.
Now, we refunded the money, and I went back and played a show for free, so the people that were there that wanted to could come later. I understand it angered people. I get it. But in a situation like that, I can just tell you that I’m so glad I did it, and I had zero regrets on that part, because of the memories that we made.
Last year, you did 23 performances of your residency — just you, your guitar, and your stories, plus a surprise “flash choir” at the climax. What itch did the residency scratch for you?
I didn’t know until the first show how it was going to go, but it became very therapeutic for me and the people in the room. I could tell them stories that I’d never told. There were a lot of things I hadn’t talked about, and most of those songs have never been recorded. People felt like they were getting to see me on a couch in a therapy session.
The residency shows flipped the timeline of some major events in your life: the death of your brother, Brandon, in 2018 and the 2017 mass shooting at the Route 91 festival in Las Vegas, where you headlined. Why did you do that?
I did it for the pacing of the show. I play “Church Boys” for my brother, and then we went into “Johnny,” with the choir, then [a cover of] “Take Me to the River.” The choir stays. Once they come, they don’t leave. And before that was a “A Man Who Was Gonna Die Young” [tied to a story about Church’s 2017 surgery for a near-fatal blood clot]. We tried to make it work as a direct timeline, but it didn’t feel right when the choir pops out and then they leave.
You’ve never talked about your brother’s death. How do you navigate that grief today?
[Pauses.] Yes, it’s been almost seven years. That’s such a painful part. I don’t know if a psychologist will tell you it’s healthy, but I bury a lot of stuff, just kind of roll with it. Sure, it comes out in other ways. I don’t ever talk about my family, you know, like even my parents. It’s just one of those life-changing, painful things that I don’t know how to really process. So, I just kind of keep stacking days, you know?
One of the more nervy times I’ve had in my life was when my parents came to that first [residency] show and didn’t know I was gonna talk about him. They had not heard “Church Boys.” My sister said after, “You’ve gotta give me a warning or something before that.” I said, “I know.…” I mean, I couldn’t even sing at my brother’s funeral. They wanted me to talk. I couldn’t talk.
Do you think you’ll ever record and release “Church Boys”?
I don’t think I will. That’s for that moment. That’s for the people that were there.
Despite all of Morgan Wallen’s missteps — the racial-slur video, the chair-throwing off the roof of your own bar — you’ve leaned into your friendship with him. Why are you so invested in Morgan?
I have a lot of acquaintances in the industry. I don’t have a lot of people that are friends. And what I’ve always loved about Morgan, and I could say the same thing about Jelly Roll, is their unabashed honesty about their flaws and their humanity. When he screws up, sometimes just even privately, he owns it. There’s that vulnerability of “I’m flawed and I’m sorry and I screwed up.” There’s something about that that is wholesome. I think we hide so much, especially being in the commercial music business — show business — you try to fabricate what you are. And most of those people that I know that fabricate that aren’t that, but that’s what their story is. And the whole time, they’re trying to sell the public that “This is who I am.”
“I want passion. It’s the middle where things dry.”
I say this to everyone [about Morgan]: I know the guy. And once you know the guy, it’s a lot easier to be able to know the heart of that guy and to know where his moral compass is. And he’s got a great one.… I remember when things took off for [me], and it’s nowhere near the way it took off for him, but that’s a really weird time. It can be really hard to deal with. We talked about a lot of that, and the shortest answer is, I would trust him with my kids.
Kris Kristofferson, a North Star for you, died last year. What did you learn from him?
There’s a lot, because we spent some time together. As an artist, I learned how important the poetry is to the musical element, the craft. I don’t think Kris Kristofferson ever in his life sat down and wrote a song going, “I think this is a hit song.” It was so poetic and so eloquent and so thoughtful and so unique. And as far as the man goes, there was such a humbleness when I was around Kris that I think would be hard for me if I was Kris Kristofferson.
You think you would know that you were Kris Kristofferson?
I’m positive I would know I was Kris Kristofferson. There’s that famous story about Sinéad O’Connor [being booed at a 1992 concert after tearing up a picture of the Pope] when he walked onstage and said, “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” That compassion for another human being was something he always expressed.
The first time I met him, I was on the road, and I was in Illinois playing some crappy place, and we were driving home that night. It was 2015. My wife called and said, “What time you getting in? Because Kris and Lisa are going to be here.” And she said it so casual. I went, “Who’s Kris and Lisa?” She said, “The Kristoffersons. I reached out to Lisa and I know what Kris means to you, and they want to come over for lunch.” I said, “To our house?”
So I get home at 6 a.m., I’m watching the clock, nervous as hell. And they pull up and get out of the car. We sat there, my wife made us BLTs, and I said, “I know it’s 11 on a Sunday, you want tea? Diet Coke?” And he didn’t jump on that. So, I said, “You want a beer?” He goes, “I’ll take a beer” and I got us each a Miller Lite. He gave me the line [from “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down”] when I got him a second one: “The beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one more for dessert.” I was sitting there like, “This is not happening.”
I was with him in Maui a lot after that; we would go there and hang out. I learned a lot from the way he treated me, the way he treated other artists. And back to your other question, there’s a lot of that when I think about Morgan. [Kristofferson] showed a great deal of guidance for fellow artists who have to go through the same things. He reached out and tried to help you through this stuff, and that was a really important lesson for me.
In 2006, you got fired from the Rascal Flatts tour for your sets going too long. Taylor Swift took your place as opener and the rest is history. She even sent you a thank-you note for getting fired. Do you ever marvel at the role you played in her career?
Yeah. It’s one of those things where you look back at your career and go, “How did I end up in that moment in time?”
David McClister
Have you run across Taylor since?
A couple times. She got sued for that “Shake It Off” song [by the songwriters behind 3LW’s“Playas Gon’ Play”] … and in her deposition, when [talking about the line] “players gonna play, haters gonna hate,” she says, “The first time I heard that phrase was in Eric Church’s song ‘The Outsiders.’ ” She was saying she never heard it on the [original song], which is what they were suing her for. And two weeks later, I got served by the people that were suing her!
So, I sent her a text, and she responded. I was like, “Hey, thanks. Next time, let’s just skip that part?” And she sent me a text: “I’m sorry. It’s the truth though. That’s when I first heard that phrase.” It’s since been settled. But I was like, “How did this even happen?”
Are your boys into Taylor? Do they know the story about her replacing you on the Flatts tour?
They’re into Taylor. But we never really talked about that part. I’m sure they kind of know a baseline of it, but they don’t know the whole story. One day they will.
What do you play them in the truck?
Anything that can improve their life musically. But that’s not what they’re listening to. They’re listening to crap, as far as I could tell. But they do like Morgan, and going to school, I’ll play a song that I did with Mo on his new album. It’s at least a way for me to go, “Hey, I’m not as uncool as you think I am. But then I’m going to play Jefferson Airplane and we’re going to have a conversation, OK?” [Laughs.]
What have you heard lately that moved you?
It’s an older album, but Brandi Carlile’s Bear Creek. That’s an album — that’s what I took from it. Three or four songs in, I’m going, “Wow, I should listen to this more.”
Kenny Chesney is getting inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame this year. What are your thoughts on that?
I love it. I reached out to him: “Mr. Hall of Famers,” I said. Kenny is another guy that’s been incredibly good to me in my career, and just a kindred spirit, very well-deserving. I think it’s great for country music. There’s nobody that’s done what he’s done at the live level in the history of country music for this long, ever — not even close. There is no comparison. And if you look at the catalog, there’s some real moments in that catalog of incredible country music, songs that will live forever. I’ve always respected the hell out of him.
“I see a lot of homogenization in country music.”
You’ll be eligible for induction in the Country Music Hall of Fame next year. Do you think about your legacy?
No. I guess maybe this is naivete, but I still feel like I’m in it. I’ve been doing it a long time and I know I’m older, but I still feel like I’m in the middle of it.
Last fall, you played a benefit with Luke Combs to help victims of Hurricane Helene in North Carolina, especially near your hometown of Granite Falls. You’re also rebuilding homes and communities after the flooding with your Blue Haven project. Why do you think that is your responsibility?
I could not fathom that there was not some type of mid- to long-term housing plan [or] government assistance, where we didn’t just put trailers up but actually built homes. Never been done, ever. I’m going, “How is it we’re America and it’s never been done?”
Generally, both sides of the aisle agree that when a disaster happens, we should help the people that the disaster happened to, and we just can’t fucking figure out how to do it. The problem has been brewing for many, many, many years, where you have the money come in and the people at the level that were affected don’t get help.… And I think what has happened is they’ve lost trust in a lot of the politicians, and it swings back and forth.
I think what you’re seeing now is a bomb blow up all the norms and the structures of all of that. And there’s a reshaping here. There’s some danger there with the reshaping, but that’s the time we’re in. I know why we’re in the time we’re in, but how it settles? I don’t know. I had [a] FEMA director at the Concert for Carolina, and my wife, Katherine, goes, “Imagine I just lost my home. I’m coming to your FEMA office in Banner Elk, North Carolina. What happens?” He goes, “Well, we can give you $750 immediately. Then you have to fill out a form, and you go into the system to get your FEMA money.” And I chimed in, “I just lost my house, I have kids, and you’re saying to me, ‘Here’s $750’? What’s the form?” And he goes, “There’s a QR code.” And I said, “They’ve not had Wi-Fi at all for seven days — ended up being a month — and you’re telling them they have to get on a phone that they don’t have access to?” He said, “Well, we have paper,” and I said, “Guys, that would piss me off.”
So when you talk about “Why is everything now so chaotic?” that’s it. It’s because it’s been a system that continues to break. [We] continue to elect the people that continue to say they’re going to change it; they don’t change it. And what you’re getting now is a real restructuring of all of that.
Just like with Kristofferson, you were close with Toby Keith, too. Who would you say you’re more like politically?
Here’s where I would turn this around on you. I think you would say that one was more politically one way than the other, that Kristofferson is more to the left and Toby’s more to the right.
One might assume, yes.
But what I found in getting to know them is they were incredibly intelligent and tolerant. Like, we talked about the Sinéad O’Connor thing. If that had been the other way, and it had been a far-right-wing person, Kris would have done the same thing. He was about the freedom of your thought and who you were. If he didn’t agree with you, that didn’t bother him.
David McClister
Toby was way more nuanced [than you might think]. He had these songs, and a lot of it was “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue,” and he was absolutely pro-military. But he wasn’t an ideologue, and I’m not an ideologue. I have a problem with the political system where I believe things on both sides, but if I have to pick a party, it means that I can’t believe some of those things. If I’m a Republican or I’m a Democrat, I have to be all Republican or all Democrat, and there’s no way those guys and girls believe that. There’s no fucking way. So, the problem I have there is you have to pick a side and have to say the other side’s wrong because you’re under that flag. That’s total bullshit.
Would it be accurate to say you’re an independent?
I hate “independent,” because it sounds like I can’t make up my mind. I bristle at that. But if you look at how broad these issues and topics are, I think there’s a small percentage of Americans that truly believe in 100 percent of a party’s platform. Most Americans go back and forth. I change my mind all the damn time.
You were at Bruce Springsteen’s Manchester show in England, where he lit into the Trump administration as “incompetent and treasonous.” How did it feel watching that?
I was side stage when that was going on, and frankly, I couldn’t hear very well. We ended up going out in the pit later, [and] I saw some of it after the fact.
But Bruce, he’s earned the right to say and do what he wants. It could have been about hunger, it could have been apartheid. I respect the hell out of somebody having the balls to do something like that. If you’re Bruce Springsteen, at 75 years old, if that’s what floats your boat, then you should do that. I was just ready to hear “Chimes of Freedom.”
The Chicks were blackballed for the same thing: speaking out against the U.S. president in England. How’s it going to affect Springsteen when he returns home?
I don’t know that it will. After all this time, he’s earned the stripes; he can say what he wants at this point. The Dixie Chick thing, that was a whole different time in their career. Bruce has been doing this a long time on every continent and every stage. I love opening [night] shows, because no matter how long you’ve been doing this, there’s that nervous energy in a first show. There’ll be it tonight when I play Royal Albert Hall. There’s a number of anxieties. But you could tell he wanted to get something off his chest. It added a little more whatever that was … angst … and the show was fantastic. Best Springsteen show I’ve seen.
Do you think country music itself is moving one way or the other in response to the current moment in the U.S.? I mean politically.
God, you’re probably asking the wrong guy. Culturally, yes. I think it’s pretty clear the country has moved to the right. Now, how that ends up translating musically is what I love. What are people gonna write about? Go back to the best music ever made, and one of the tips of the spear was the Vietnam War. That may be the greatest era of rock and country and folk.
We’ve talked about this before — this shit [politics] bores me to death. It’s mind-numbing, because we’re just going to flip it back, and it’s going to go the other way, and then it’s going to come back. Like a ping-pong ball. But what does interest me is what happens musically. In country music, it’s going to be very interesting. I’m actually excited about that part of it — what music will come out, either in protest or in support.
Let’s talk about something you’d like to see change in country music. What’s the one thing you’d fix in the genre if you could?
I would love to have the quality of artists that are willing — and are allowed — to take some chances creatively. You get a lot more of that in the Americana world. I think that’s why you have Zach Bryan and Tyler Childers and Sturgill [Simpson]; these guys were able to do things artistically because they can, and you see the demand for it. You can see it at the concert level, at the ticket level. And I just don’t see a lot of that in country music. I see a lot of homogenization.
Why is that? Fear?
I think a lot of it is fear. I talk to a young artist and tell them the song that is going to be the most beneficial to their career is the song the label and radio is going to have the hardest time with. The stuff that they can make easy is probably the stuff that [sounds] like everybody else, but you’re never going to differentiate yourself.
You’re 48 now. What does the Chief look like at 50?
Well, I hope he’s here at 50, let’s start there. But “more thoughtful” is the word I would use. I’m way more thoughtful about my place in country music, the importance of country music, the importance of the future of country music, and the importance of making sure that everybody understands who came before you. I don’t think 15 years ago I would have said the same thing, because I was very brash and “I’m gonna do what I’m gonna do, fuck y’all.” But you’ve got to evolve. There’s a lot of artists that do not, and the record they make today is the record they made 10 years ago.
