THE WITNESS:
ZACH BRYAN

Nobody in Nashville saw Zach Bryan coming. Genre-averse, contemplative, acoustic, often Appalachian and lean, the Oologah, Okla., native, who’s done two tours of duty in the U.S. Navy, has written about life as he’s seen it, without flinching or romanticizing the betrayals, hopes, tedium, desire and disappointment.

Along the way, the DIY songwriter filmed videos on an iPhone outside his barracks—and amassed close to a billion streams.

His is a warm voice, slightly dusty and a little worn. There’s a strength beneath the stories that endures. In a world where everything is curated, fluffed, retouched and focus-grouped, Bryan released DeAnn in 2019, beginning the organic growth of his audience—made up of people sharing his emotions.

Having debuted as the #1 country album and a Top 5 album overall, the 34-song American Heartbreak has amassed more than 82 million streams and shattered the 24-hour streaming record for a debut album. “From Austin” hit #1 on both Spotify and Apple Music’s country charts. A high-profile sync on the series Yellowstone undoubtedly helped lay the groundwork.

That ability to connect to people is what drew Warner Records to the Sam Shepard-esque songwriter. But the songs—“Into the Orange,” “Goin’ South,” “Highway Boys,” “Late July,” “Open the Gate,” “Heading South,” to name a few—offer raw music delivered by an artist whose initial success blossomed beyond the system.

Warner Records CEO/Co-Chairman Aaron Bay-Schuck began following Bryan—now repped by managers Stefan Max and Danny Kang—when A&R Miles Gersh brought him to his attention in the summer of 2020. (The first dance at Bay-Schuck’s November 2020 wedding was Bryan’s “Godspeed.”) Bay-Schuck recognized something beyond genres, social-media impact or marketing potential.

“All it took was one listen to his independent records “Heading South” and “Godspeed” and I was going back, listen after listen,” he says. “There’s an intangible authenticity to Zach. He’s zero-fucks-given about what he should be doing. His attitude is, ‘I’m going to write these songs, and I hope you guys see pieces of your life, too.’ He’s a witness. He’s all real life, whether his own or something observed. Simply put, his songwriting is elite. It’s on par with Guy Clark, Bob Dylan, Springsteen, Tom Petty.”

You could see it standing in the swelter under That Tent’s folds at Bonnaroo. The crammed-in teens and twentysomethings whispered and sang every word to his songs; swaying to the lean, almost classic-country performance, their eyes closed or fists raised. His choruses suggest a voice that resonates for them in a world turned hopeless.

Some barely clad and/or tribal-tattooed, some sporting trucker’s caps, they weren’t the CMA Music Fest fanbase. But the acoustic guitar with fiddle, banjo or mandolin embellishments landed true for them the same way Willie Nelson, Chris Stapleton and the Outlaw movement transcended genre in their own breakthrough moments.

“He’s redefining a path to success for country music,” Bay-Schuck explains. “There’s been little to no country radio. He’s not been to Nashville [to work the community]. Instead, he’s putting out music at the pace of artists in the hip-hop space. He’s behaving more like an artist in the commercial pop space. Even before we got involved, it was a tremendous response—a million to two, three, four million streams a week—because people are captivated by his storyline, the look, the truth in these songs.”

“His line is: I don’t want a genre or a scene, I just want to make music,” the Warner chief adds. “He wants to write songs. He knows exactly who he is. He’s stubborn and has a real vision. We want to give him every platform he wants and any tools he needs, but all the credit is to Zach.”

That outside/in approach mirrors breakout country superstar Luke Combs. Combs added Bryan to his stadium dates, because, as Combs’ manager Chris Kappy explains, “We are fans of what Zach built, and when we were looking to build out our stadium dates, Zach was the kind of artist we wanted with us. He built this one fan at a time, just like Luke did, and we respect that.”

Those fan-by-fan and live connections have proved critical for Bryan. Though there is some tempo in his show, it’s the rawness of what comes from him—and the way people feel his words. With an amphitheater show in Bonner Springs the Friday of release, Bay-Schuck marvels, “Completely sold-out, 9,000 people singing every word. Groups of girls, of guys; bras being thrown onstage, or trucker caps being handed up. There was this almost cultish feeling to it. Look no further than dropping a 34-track album at midnight and the people singing every word.

“It’s loss, love, success, anger, all of it. We were all confident it was going to happen based on the writing. But the speed since his honorable discharge from the Navy! We never wanted to skip steps, but how quickly it all happened is as much getting out of the way, and letting him be who he is, as anything.”

Genre neutrality allowed American Heartbreak’s songs to land on the rock and alternative charts. “I didn’t think genre,” says Bay-Schuck. “Zach didn’t register that way—just as brilliance. If you look at the Warner legacy, Warner Brothers was about fearless artists who took risks, stood for something, and backing their vision.”

Bryan isn’t riding the momentum of one or two massive viral successes, Bay-Schuck points out. “You never want a song to be bigger than you are,” he says. “The artists should be what you’re developing. For Zach, he kept putting out music. As big as ‘Something in the Orange’ or Heading South’ or so many more songs are, the streaming is very evenly spread out. That’s a real statement about the buy-in to the artist. They’re in for all of it, not just a couple songs. They’re in for Zach Bryan.”