Tracy Lawrence On How George Jones Helped Him & His Way Of Paying It Forward With New Artists
His careers spans more than three decades with 18 No. 1 hits that includes familiar songs like 'Time Marches On,' 'Paint Me A Birmingham,' and 'If the World Had a Front Porch,' just to name a few.
He continues to tour and still draws a crowd, too, with last week's sold-out show at the Ryman Auditorium as the latest example.
Tracy Lawrence performs at his sold out show at the Ryman Auditorium - Sunday, May 18th, 2025 - ... More Nashville, Tennessee
And yet, Tracy Lawrence accepts that he's on the 'other side' of his country music career and now is a time to enjoy all he's accomplished and make way for the younger artists striving to make their way up the ladder in hopes of achieving success.
It wasn't all that long ago he was in 'their' position.
'I remember the whole country music movement in the early 90s when things started to change and the format was shifting away from the Haggards and the Jones and Waylons,' Lawrence recalls. 'A lot of those older cats were really upset with us because they'd been on the radio for years and all of a sudden radio stations weren't playing their records anymore.'
Lawrence saying in the middle of that struggle, he remembers how George Jones showed a lot of class in welcoming those new artists.
'I saw the way George Jones handled that and the way he embraced us young kids. I spent a couple of years on the road with him. It was me and Mark Chestnutt and John Anderson that kind of rotated in and out of that tour. I watched how gracious George Jones was, and as I've gotten older, I realize I'm in that same place now. I'm not getting played on the radio anymore. But I've had my time and it's a young person's game now.'
Lawrence has found his own way of 'connecting' with today's young artists. He created a podcast called 'TL's Road House' And from the comfortable setting of his tour bus, he spends time with country's up-and-coming stars. So far, he's interviewed Jelly Roll, Lainey Wilson, HARDY, and many, many others.
'What I strive for when I go into these interviews is to find a common ground that we share like the passion for the music,' Lawrence says. 'And to talk about what their frustrations are within the industry, relationships with record labels, and so on. And with the diversity of the different artists, no two conversations are ever the same.'
Zach Top with Tracy Lawrence for "TL's Road House" - recorded on Lawrence's tour bus
Jelly Roll appears on Tracy Lawrence's tour bus for the podcast "TL's Road House"
He's discovered everyone has their own, unique country music journey.
'We all come from a different place,' he explains. 'We all had a different family life. Some people came up with a musical family, some didn't. There are some people who were born singing Christmas songs and church songs, and others who didn't tap into their passion until they were in their twenties. It's a fascinating conversation to have with these young people.
He chose the tour bus setting because it tends to put people at ease.
Tracy Lawrence and Ella Langley on Lawrence's tour bus for "TL's Road House"
Riley Green and Tracy Lawrence for "TL's Road House"
'I wanted to do it on the bus because of the comfort factor artists have. When you spend time on a bus, it's your safe space, There's a feeling they get when the come in and sit down that everything is cool. It has a charm to it. The only frustrating thing is having to set it up and tear it down for every podcast we do. It takes about an hour and a half to do that. So, I keep everything in boxes back in the closet.'
As busy as he stays with the podcast, Lawrence is still playing shows. He's also busy with a host of other projects including his Mission Possible charity for the homeless. He and a group of artists, athletes, and celebrities held his fifth annual golf tournament fundraiser in Nashville last week, raising more than $200,000.
Fellow country artists, athletes, and others took part in Tracy Lawrence's fifth annual Mission: ... More Possible Celebrity Classic Golf Tournament at Old Hickory Country Club outside Nashville, TN on May 19th, 2025. They raised more than $200,000.
Lawrence, who grew up in a Christian home with a mother very active in the church, says it started out as a small way to give back twenty years ago and has now become a major annual event.
'It was never meant to be a big charity thing, it was just a handful of us that wanted to do something for the community, shine a light on the Rescue Mission, and feed the homeless,' he says. 'That first year for Thanksgiving, I think we cooked 200 turkeys. Last November we cooked 1700 turkeys and raised about $300,000. It's amazing to see how something with no strategy or plan has evolved into something unique and every special.'
While Lawrence may not see his songs played on the radio or make their way up the country charts like they did years ago, he continues creating new music and is currently working on a new album.
Thanks to social media and streaming services, he knows it'll find its way to the people who want to hear it.
More than thirty years after it all began, Lawrence still loves performing. He says there's nothing like playing to a packed house with the crowd singing his biggest hits right along with him.
'I still love it, I still love being out there,' he says. 'I played Stagecoach in April and getting on stage and feeling that energy from people… When I hit 'Paint Me A Birmingham' at the end of my set, they were so loud. I guarantee it was 115,000 deep because my front house engineer told he had to turn it up (the audio) three times to get it over the people in the crowd. It was awesome!'
Singer Tracy Lawrence performs on the Palomino stage during the Stagecoach Music Festival on April ... More 27, 2025 in Indio, California. (Photo byfor Stagecoach)
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Yahoo
17 minutes ago
- Yahoo
One is straight. The other is gay. Together, these best friends are reimagining masculinity
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Their new podcast, No Homo with Jonathan and Tom, is a weekly riff on life, masculinity, queerness, parenting, politics, and everything in between. 'Two best friends, one straight, one gay,' as they like to say, 'gassing each other up as the world burns.' Behind the riffs and running gags is something quieter and more binding: a friendship that's teaching listeners how expansive masculinity can be. Related: L Word alums Leisha Hailey and Kate Moennig wrote the book on queer Opposites, but alike Gregg, 43, lives in Queens with his wife and two young kids. He now works as director of operations for a spirits portfolio—think bourbon, vodka, rum, ready-to-drinks. He's magnetic, unapologetic, and often the louder of the two. He's also a popular social media influencer: 127,000 followers on TikTok, 140,000 on Instagram, and counting. Gregg grew up in northern Alabama, in what he calls a 'sheltered, conservative' environment shaped by church life and Southern Baptist teachings. At the time, he considered his church progressive. His pastor had once refused to join a denomination-wide boycott of Disney over the company's perceived LGBTQ+ support. 'I thought of my church as a relatively progressive place,' he said, though in hindsight, he recognizes how narrow that bar was. Still, the experience stuck with him. 'Why would you cut out something in your life because they're being kind to a group of people?' he asked. As he left Alabama, first for Nashville and then New York, the distance made clear how insular his upbringing had been and how much space there was to grow. 'Exposure is the antidote to hate and fear,' he said. 'Knowing people, not being scared to know people, that's it.' Felix, 46, is quieter and more careful. A former theater director and television development exec, he now works in corporate communications and lives nearby in Astoria with his fiancé, Naquan, and their kittens, Fish and Chips. He's the one who overthinks. Felix grew up in a working-class Catholic household in central Connecticut, where he says it took time to make peace with being gay. By junior year of high school, he had come out to himself. By senior year, he was quietly living a double life, closeted at school, where he was prom king and class president, but beginning to explore his sexuality through community theater. 'I was ready to be gay,' he said. 'I just wasn't ready to mess with everything else.' He waited until college to come out to others, on his very first night in New York, sitting in a diner with a group of fellow freshmen. When someone asked if he was gay, he set down his grilled cheese and said, for the first time out loud, 'Yes. I'm gay.' Coming out to family and hometown friends took longer. And the bullying he endured as a kid, taunts for doing theater, not playing sports, still lingers in memory. 'It was something I dealt with all through high school,' he said. Both men exude strong 'daddy vibes,' physically muscular, emotionally available, and unmistakably at ease in their own skin. They've shared bedrooms, wedding aisles, and dance floors. And when they hit the right party, Gregg sheds his shirt beside Felix in a sea of sweaty, writhing men. 'He's come with me to a Rekt party or a Honey Dijon party,' Felix says. 'I wouldn't necessarily call them circuit, but definitely like a gay tech house party.' Their rhythms may differ, but the friendship is seamless. Felix officiated at Gregg's wedding. When Felix and Naquan get married next year, Gregg will return the favor. 'We've had some really strange and exciting experiences together,' Felix says. 'And I just think there's such a long history now… I trust him completely.' Asked if the relationship has ever crossed into romantic or sexual territory, both are disarmingly candid. 'Tom has made the most convincing arguments to be with a man I've ever heard,' Gregg jokes. 'But I'm in a committed monogamous marriage. And I'm straight. Tom knows that. And he respects it.' Felix, without missing a beat: 'And I'm still trying.' Paint your nails, punch Nazis Their closeness has shaped Gregg's public persona, too. Through the Trump years, he coined a slogan, 'Paint Your Nails, Punch Nazis,' that went viral and stuck. Now it's on T-shirts, stickers, and plenty of merch. The phrase grew out of lived experience. Bullied as a kid, Gregg bulked up and leaned into hypermasculinity as protection. Later, when his son asked to paint his nails, Gregg painted his too — and kept going. Tom Felix (left) and Jonathan Gregg at a costume Jonathan Gregg & Tom Felix (provided) 'My wife and I always wanted to buck gender norms,' he says. 'When our son was born, we made pink tank tops that said, 'It's a boy' on the front, and 'Gender norms are for the weak' on the back.' It wasn't about rebellion. It was about modeling freedom. 'Even if my son never paints his nails again,' Gregg says, 'he'll remember that a masculine man in his life did. That's powerful.' He and Felix have made that kind of modeling part of the show, silly, serious, or somewhere in between. Building a friendship and a show while reclaiming "no homo" The podcast was years in the making. They'd joked about it forever. But the 2024 election, and the political darkness that followed, finally gave them the push. 'I was just tired of screaming into my phone,' Felix says. 'I wanted to use my voice for something more.' So they hit record. Then they did it again. And again. The format is loose: a weekly check-in, some current events, a few personal revelations, and always—always—a vibe. No Homo launched in late June. New episodes drop every Thursday. As of this week, six have aired, and the show is already finding its footing. Last weekend, Felix was recognized for the first time at The Cock, the legendary gay bar on Manhattan's Lower East Side. 'Are you the guy from the podcast?' a man named Dan from Albuquerque, New Mexico, asked. 'I'll always have The Cock,' Felix joked on the show. Dan also passed on a compliment for Gregg: 'If you flutter your eyelashes fast enough, he thinks you just might float away.' Before they ever pressed record, the name sparked debate. No Homo was originally coined as a reflexive disclaimer, a way for straight men to distance themselves from anything that might be perceived as gay. The phrase exploded in the 1990s and early 2000s hip-hop, where artists used it to assert dominance, affirm heterosexuality, or preempt ridicule after saying anything remotely affectionate. It was defensive, insecure, and often deeply homophobic. Gregg and Felix know all that. And they named their show No Homo anyway. 'We wanted to hold a mirror to the absurdity of it,' Felix says. 'The phrase itself is so rooted in anxiety, about gender, about orientation, about being perceived. And we wanted to flip it.' 'It's the dumbest, most hilarious thing straight men ever came up with,' Gregg adds. 'And now here we are, one straight, one gay, saying, yeah, no homo, and also all the homo. Deal with it.' The title is provocative by design. But it's not empty provocation. It's about subversion, about confronting cultural discomfort with male closeness. By reclaiming the phrase, they're turning its original anxiety on its head, and replacing it with something grounded, funny, and emotionally honest. 'We're in on the joke,' Felix says. 'But we're also dead serious about it.' Jonathan Gregg (left) and Tom Jonathan Gregg & Tom Felix (provided) In the sixth episode, Gregg shared a message from a listener, what he jokingly called a 'no-homer slash bromo,' who'd reached out to a gay friend after hearing their ongoing conversations about friendship and flirtation. The straight man asked: 'Do you find me attractive?' The friend said yes, but explained that because the man was married, he hadn't said anything before. 'It made him feel really good,' Gregg said. 'And frankly, it's kind of always been in the back of my mind — that's the best service we can offer from this podcast.' 'There is a male loneliness epidemic in the country,' he added. 'There's a void of love from men—how they experience it, how they accept it, how they show it. And I'm telling you, there would be less of a loneliness issue if you just make some gay friends and let 'em flirt with you. It's the best you're ever going to feel.' A May 2025 Gallup poll found that 25 percent of American men ages 15 to 34 reported feeling lonely 'a lot' of the previous day, more than young men in 35 other high-income democratic countries. In the U.S., young men are significantly lonelier than both young women and older adults. Experts link the crisis to long-standing cultural norms that discourage boys from expressing vulnerability, often leaving them emotionally isolated. 'There are some ways to feel a little better,' Felix added. Gregg didn't miss a beat: 'If you and your gay friend decide you want to go down that path, that's totally cool too. And if you don't, then take the flirting, take the compliments, take the gas up, and know that they'll probably give you a really good blowjob if you want it.' 'I did try to grab his dick on my 30th birthday,' Felix admitted in his Advocate interview. 'That's true. But I was being a real tease,' Gregg chimed in. 'So even I can forgive that one.' But was it no homo or was it homo? 'Yeah, it was no homo,' Gregg said. 'It might've been after the fact. It might have no homoed after the fact.' Gregg and Felix aren't trying to be icons. They're just trying to be honest. To show what friendship can look like when men stop fearing softness, stop fearing each other. 'If more straight men had gay best friends,' Gregg says, 'the world would be a better place. Period.' He's not wrong. Happy International Friendship Day. Catch below. - YouTube This article originally appeared on Advocate: One is straight. The other is gay. Together, these best friends are reimagining masculinity Solve the daily Crossword
Forbes
20 minutes ago
- Forbes
Sunday Conversation: Maren Morris On New Music, Women Scorned And More
Maren Morris' superb new album, DREAMSICLE, is an infectious, engaging collection of songs largely rooted in pop. This has led to a whole hullabaloo about Morris leaving country behind, the same way it did when Neil Young began playing synths in the '80s, when Joni Mitchell embraced her love of jazz, hell, when Bob Dylan plugged in at the Newport Folk Fest 60 years ago and got called a 'Judas.' As a certain Mr. Shakespeare coined it, 'Much ado about nothing.' Every great artist experiments musically, this should be considered the norm, not the deviation. Of course, the gifted Grammy-winning Morris, who released her debut album at 15, should be expected to change things up after 20 years. Just ask Miles, Prince, Joni, Bowie, Tom Waits, Rod Stewart, Taylor, Willie, the list goes on. Morris, now 35, is growing as an artist. And the boldness musically and lyrically of DREAMSICLE reflects an artist gaining confidence and finding new paths to sojourn as her voice grows stronger with age and experience. I spoke with Morris about the new album, touring and much more. Steve Baltin: You just played We Ho Pride. How'd that go? Maren Morris: Oh, it was so fun. It was my first Pride to perform at. So, the fact that it was the West Hollywood one felt really official, but it was so fun. It was such a beautiful night out and the energy in the crowd was so just optimistic and it just gave me a jolt like, 'Okay, we're going to be all right.' Baltin: I know Qveen Herby opened for you. I just had dinner with her and her husband last week, so they were telling me how much fun they had opening for you and how lovely it was. Morris: Oh my gosh, I've been such a fan of her. I was listening to her album so much during COVID and back in the Karmin days too, but like the Qveen Herby era has been…I met her that night for the first time and she was so sweet. And you can just tell she's a songwriter. I love picking people's brains that come up with turns of phrases like she does, but then also in a live way, just so fun to watch side stage before our show. Baltin: You say that about songwriters and in fact, we also just spoke to Julia Michaels in the last two weeks. Morris: Oh, you're naming all my favorite people. Yeah, she's such a gem of a human. And I'm so happy that we've been able to collaborate so much over the last couple years. She's just a real one. Baltin: We had the best conversation about the song, 'Go F**k Yourself,' and how much fun she had doing that. We were talking about how liberating that sentiment is. Are there songs on this record that had the same feeling for you? I love the honesty, for instance, of 'Bed No Breakfast.' Morris: Thanks. Yeah, there are a couple of moments like that on the album of not where I outright say like, 'Oh f**k yourself,' but definitely 'Too Good' is one of those that's very brash and then 'Lemonade,' like the intro of the album was also in that sort of acidic lane of like I've had enough. Yeah, a woman scorned who also writes songs is a thing to behold. A beautiful, scary thing to behold. Baltin: Every great artist has gone from genre to genre. It's the most natural thing in the world. So are there those artists that have really influenced you in the way that they have moved around musically? Morris: Yeah, I think all of my favorite records, artists, they're so different. Like if you listen to Sheryl Crow between Tuesday Night Music Club and The Globe Sessions there's a big musical shift, but you can still obviously tell the heartbeat is Sheryl's writing, her voice. Then Patty Griffin is another one that I have had a long-time obsession with. Flaming Red is one of my favorite albums, but it's also the most sonically ambitious album I've ever heard. And I guess it would be considered a rock album, but it's just Patty. So, it's very singer/songwriter-y and folky in moments, but then she's going balls to the wall on these drums to kick the album off. There are so many examples of people that genre blend, genre shift. I think that's the name of the game is not copying and pasting your work over and over and over again, just to make a buck. I think it's exciting when people do something that's out of leftfield. Baltin: I think as an artist that's the only way to also keep yourself happy and interested. Otherwise, you're going to lose your mind. Morris: I've always have been influenced by a lot of different kinds of music. And I think that comes out in my own work. But depending on who I'm writing with or collaborating with, who's producing, every day is different. So, sometimes for me, honing in on a lane has never been a thing. It's also not something I should have to do. I love that with this record DREAMSICLE I can weave between lanes pretty seamlessly and it feels still at the end of the day like a cohesive project because it's the same brain, the same voice, the same heart. Especially when I'm going to tour rehearsals next week was like, I really want to work up songs that I'm excited about, that I loved making in the studio that kept me going each day. Baltin: What are your favorite women scorned songs? Morris: The ones that like come to mind are definitely like, because I was just listening to it, 'You're So Vain,' Carly Simon. A recent one is Taylor Swift's 'The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived,' that's a really good one. Then also not to circle back, but I just like love Julia Michaels EP so much. I think that she's so good at having a unique take each time, there is a scorn to be had. Even with 'Scissors,' the one that I'm on, I was like this is such a beautiful way of saying I don't care about you enough to mourn this relationship if you decide to end it. I'm good either way. She just has such a unique way of spinning something like that Baltin: Let's come onto the tour for one second. What are the songs that you're most excited to do live? What are the songs you are most excited to see how people responded to them? Morris: Weirdly, it's all the ballads. I think the one I'm really excited to work up with the band because it was such a spiritual experience writing it. And it's literally about losing religion. But the song 'Holy Smoke,' I'm really excited to work up with the band because there are so many layers musically that Jack Antonoff added. Lots of backing vocals that I layered, Laura Belts, my songwriter friend, layered and it just has this really communal sing-along element to it. So, I think in a live setting it's one of those songs that I love on the album; it's beautiful, we produced it beautifully. But you know when you're writing something that is going to slap live. Baltin: What were the songs that have surprised you most over the years, those ones in your catalog that have become live favorites? Morris: There's a song from my first record. It's called "Once." And it's just a really vocally strenuous song live, it just takes you to another dimension. I'm the one singing it and I feel like I accessed some different astral plane when I'm singing that song. It's just so guttural. But over the years, like the last eight, nine years it has been an audience favorite, even though it was never a single. It's a really heavy song. But live it is just this transcendent experience, and you never know that thing until you go and do it in the show. So, it's one of those songs I always have a tough time taking out of the set list because I just know it's going to bring the house down each time.
New York Times
20 minutes ago
- New York Times
A Lighter Take on a Slow-Cooker Classic
Good morning! Today we have for you: A hearty but light slow-cooker chicken dish Versatile cold noodles with a spicy peanut sauce Plus, Yewande Komolafe's new recipe for stir-fried pork and plums Good morning. It was around 25 years ago, as near as I can figure it, that a woman named Robin Chapman came up with the slow-cooker dish that would come to be known as Mississippi Roast: top round beef simmered with butter, pepperoncini, ranch dressing and gravy. The dish has been an internet darling pretty much ever since. Folks make Mississippi Roast with pork, with venison and elk. I've even seen a vegan version, made with jackfruit. All excellent. But my current favorite, light enough for summer, is Kia Damon's new recipe for Mississippi chicken. Kia eschews the packaged ranch seasoning and au jus powder that gave the dish its original tang and oomph, replacing them with soy sauce, garlic and a ton of fresh herbs. But she doesn't stint on the peppers or butter, so it's still recognizably (and tastily) an heir to the original. I like it with rice, cornbread and the greenest green salad. You might scatter some fresh or frozen peas into the mix at the end, for sweet pops of flavor against the salty richness of the sauce. Featured Recipe View Recipe → Get that going after lunch, and you've got Sunday dinner sorted. As for the rest of the week. … There's something both light and substantial about Hetty Lui McKinnon's recipe for a cold noodle salad with spicy peanut sauce. She uses the Japanese buckwheat noodles known as soba because they're in the running for best-tasting cold noodles, with crunchy vegetables — I like cabbage and carrot in addition to her cucumbers and radishes — and a marvelously fiery peanut sauce that you could make with any nut or seed butter. Leftovers make for an awesome desk lunch the next day. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
