Brooke Eden once stared down the barrel of a heart-wrenching decision: Her livelihood or the love of her life. The singer/songwriter's chosen mode of expression was country music, a genre stuggling with LGBTQ+ inclusivity. And the love of her life, radio promoter Hilary Hoover, happened to be of the same sex. As somebody in Eden's circle informed her, she couldn't have both.

"I don't like to [name them] because I don't even want to give them the time of day for that," Eden tells GRAMMY.com over Zoom with an edge to her voice, "but it was a member of my team who's no longer on my team. He straight-up, to our faces, said, 'If you want to have a career, you have to keep your relationship a secret.'" This quandary stressed out the singer so badly that her physical health declined and she developed ulcers. Then, she threw up her hands and announced she's "Got No Choice."

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That's the title—and part of the ascendant hook—of Eden's latest single, which acts as a rebuttal to that bad-faith imperative. In the video, Eden jet-sets around with Hoover by her side, accompanied by the infectious tune. "But the sound of my name rollin' off your tongue/ Couldn't sound sweeter from anyone," goes the pre-chorus. "This heart wants no one else and I can't help myself."

"I realized if I was ever going to put out music again, I would need to be completely authentic and myself in order to do it right," Eden says of the period leading up to "Got No Choice." Now, with perhaps her signature song under her belt and a full itinerary as gigs fire up again, Eden has proven this unnamed naysayer wrong—and shown how sweet it is to have it both ways.

Read on for an interview with Eden about increasing LGBTQ+ representation in country music, how external pressures tested her relationship and why recent strides are just the beginning for a fairer, more equitable Nashville.

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This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

What can you tell me about the intersection of the LGBTQ+ community and country music, historically speaking?

Historically speaking, there's not much [chuckles]. There's not much of an intersection. Now, things are changing. This whole genre of music is changing right now. It's so cool to be part of that change and watch it happen as we're living in it. Inclusivity for not only the LGBTQ community—me and T.J. Osborne, for example—but also different cultures and colors of skin. 

Mickey Guyton is one of my best friends and she's finally getting the recognition she deserves. The only thing that was holding her back was that she was a Black woman.

What's up with the ingrained homophobia and racism in Nashville?

I think that there's ingrained homophobia and racism in our country as a whole. I think so much of that has to do with organized religion and the ways they've talked about homosexual behavior. I think it's very sad that people hide their homophobia and bigotry behind the Bible. It's so backward.

But I think so much of it—especially in the country music genre—is that so many people that are listening to country music are from very small towns and sometimes have never left that small town. It's not a city or even a suburb where you can live your life and be who you are. It's sometimes very closed-minded, just because they haven't ever seen representation and visibility of great people and artists who just so happen to be in the LGBTQ community.

I just think that the more representation and visibility we have marking the pop culture of America, the more of these small-town listeners will realize that our love looks like their love and that you should never judge someone by the color of their skin. That's still so mind-boggling to me.

Can you talk about some of the challenges you've faced due to your sexual orientation?

Some of the challenges are just that I'm a female in general. For a long time, it was hard to be played on country radio just being a girl, which is so crazy because, in the '90s, I grew up singing along to Shania Twain and Faith Hill and Martina McBride and the Chicks. All of these incredible female artists.

And then, for 10 years, we've pretty much had Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and Miranda Lambert. And if you were a female other than those three trying to knock on the door, you just weren't going to get answered. You weren't going to get let in. But that's also changing.

Basically, it started at the beginning of our relationship, when Hilary and I met five and a half years ago. We immediately faced pushback and them saying, "Basically, you can have a career in country music or you can be in a relationship, but you can't have both."

That's one of the reasons I wrote "Got No Choice," because I, first of all, thought that was a made-up rule. Who made up that rule? Second of all, I knew that not loving her was not a choice for me. That was my person and I was going to continue to be in a relationship no matter what the rest of my life looked like.

Brooke Eden. Photo: Ford Fairchild

Was this something you heard abstractly, as though you were taking the temperature of the culture? Or did someone literally tell you that?

They told me. I don't like to [name them], because I don't even want to give them the time of day for that, but it was a member of my team who's no longer on my team. He straight-up, to our faces, said, "If you want to have a career, you have to keep your relationship a secret." There were no ifs, ands or buts about that.

Did you ever have a moment of doubt where you thought "He must be right"?

Oh, yeah. For sure. There were definitely times that I was like, "How are these two parts of me ever going to coexist?" I didn't know if it would ever happen. There were years and years of figuring out how to navigate this, knowing that Hilary was my person and also knowing that I had spent my whole entire life working toward this career, toward being an artist. It was very difficult.

It was so unhealthy to continue to live my life disingenuously. I had no authenticity. I had no integrity. I was living two completely different lives—one at home in our close circle of friends and family and one on the road where I never spoke of the love of my life. It's just a very unhealthy way to live.

At some point, I was going through so much mental and emotional turmoil that I got ulcers from bottling things up and not dealing with my situation. My doctor made me get off the road because of how unhealthy my body was. That was a big wake-up call for me.

It was this moment where I realized if I was ever going to put out music again, I would need to be completely authentic and myself in order to do it right.

I want to get Hilary's read on this. How did she feel throughout this ordeal?

I think she's just so grateful that we're finally on the other side of this. There were so many times when we were going through the hard parts of this that we just held each other and sobbed. We were like, "Are we ruining each other's lives?"

Hilary was out when I met her, I put her back into the closet and then she's being told every single day that she's ruining my career. We were so happy and so in love, but the outside world was putting so much pressure on our relationship. I think we've been through so much that just being on this side is so wonderful. 

She's the best human on the planet if you ask me, and she always has wanted to be a voice for the LGBTQ+ community. She's so supportive and such a big part of everything.

It seems like LGBTQ+ representation in country music will be a continuous process without a clear finish line. That said, what's the next step, in your mind?

I think it's just at the beginning. We've just cracked the surface. T.J. Osborne coming out was awesome because he's already at such a level of success. [But] they're still not playing Mickey Guyton on the radio. Still. After her GRAMMY nomination, they're still not playing Mickey on the radio. [Editor's note: In March 2021, Billboard reported Guyton's "Black Like Me" was sent to Adult Contemporary stations. after her GRAMMY performance.]

None of my songs have gone to radio yet, as we're just getting started. But hopefully [we'll experience] the inclusion of everybody on country radio—and not just white dudes singing about white girls.

Chase Rice On His Brotherhood With Florida Georgia Line, Being Unafraid Of "Bro-Country" And Finishing 'The Album'

Faith has been a driving force behind Alabama band the Red Clay Strays, both in their music and in their journey to stardom. With their new album, Made By These Moments, the quintet leans into that foundation even further, giving listeners a look into their walk with God and road to redemption — all of which has helped them become one of country music's most exciting breakout acts.

Despite the divine influence, lead singer Brandon Coleman insists they're not a Christian band. And their music proves that: The Strays' sound delves as much into high-flying Southern rock and gritty delta blues as it does country, sounding like Waylon Jennings or Johnny Cash one minute, then Lynyrd Skynyrd or Elvis Presley the next. As Coleman insists, what's most important to the group is making music that resonates.

"Most of the time we're not setting out to write a worship song… or anything like that," he tells GRAMMY.com. "We don't want to be a Christian band or even a country band — we just want to make music, plain and simple."

Born out of a cover band in 2016, The Strays grinded it out for years in bars around Mobile and the Deep South before hitting a breakthrough with 2022's independently released Moment Of Truth. Their budding acclaim led to opening slots with Elle King, Dierks Bentley, Eric Church and Old Crow Medicine Show, their first chart hit with "Wondering Why," and debuts on the Grand Ole Opry stage and on national television. And just one week before Made By These Moments arrived, the group were featured on the star-studded soundtrack for Twisters.

That all culminated in them signing with RCA Records in April 2024 and working with producer Dave Cobb, who helped the Red Clay Strays deliver their most polished and faith-focused set  to date with Made By These Moments. Its 11 songs serve as a blueprint of how with hard work, patience and God in your corner no obstacle is too big to overcome. The band navigates everything from questioning oneself ("No One Else Like Me") and searching for purpose ("Drowning," "Devil In My Ear") to discovering and becoming grounded in faith ("I'm Still Fine," "On My Knees") and growing into the best version of yourself as a result ("Made By These Moments," "God Does"). 

"We're not trying to go out and preach to anybody, we're just singing songs about our lives and people can listen if they want," Coleman asserts. "I've had many people who aren't spiritual or religious come up to me and say that our music has gotten them to think and reevaluate how they go about their daily lives. That's all you can ask for if you're trying to inspire or help people with your music."

Before the release of Made By These Moments, The Strays' Brandon Coleman and Drew Nix spoke with GRAMMY.com about how faith influences their music, the album's range of inspirations, and more.

You guys haven't shied away from making your faith a focal point of your music. Mind telling me about the roots of that influence, particularly with how it relates to the 11 songs on this new record? 

Brandon Coleman: I mean, God's really the driving force in all of it. He's why we do this. Everyone's wondering why they were put here on Earth and what their purpose is. Once you're able to get an idea for what that is, that's often what you end up doing. Our music is about our lives and living on the road, and God is a big part of all of it.

Drew Nix: When God gives you a gift you have to use it or it's wasted, right? The biblical things we talk about in our music are lessons that we've learned growing up. It's such complex and simple truths all wrapped into one, which makes it really easy to write about. There's victory and strife and everything else you go through in life. It leaves us thanking God at the end of each and every day for giving us another one.

It sounds like rather than faith seeping into music that it's simply been ingrained in your DNA long before you started making music? 

Coleman: Exactly. We're always looking to put God above ourselves.

Nix: When I'm writing songs like "Drowning" — a song that came about when I felt like I couldn't get ahead in life because I kept slipping and falling — it's very therapeutic too. 

Another example is "Devil In My Ear," which sees me dealing with a close friend and someone I considered to be family's suicide. It was our drummer's brother Jacob, who was an unofficial member of the band and one of the best musicians we knew. He took his own life in 2020, so that song was me trying to deal with that. The only thing I could come up with at the time was that the devil got in his ear because he really had it made — he was an incredible musician with a loving family around him. It just didn't make any sense to me until writing that song.

I obviously hate to hear that, but at the same time I firmly believe that one of the most beautiful things about music is the positivity that can radiate from even the most tragic of circumstances. It's a way to make others who've gone through similar experiences feel seen and not alone, easing the weight of the trauma that comes with it in the process. "Devil In My Ear" is a perfect example of that. 

Nix: Not feeling alone, that's a huge part of it. On a related note, the song "Made By These Moments" touches on exactly what you're talking about. We go through all these horrible and beautiful things in our lives that make us who we are. It's also one of the songs that finally brings up the mood on the album as well. 

Coleman: That's the beauty of this album. It starts out great a lot of times like life does. It starts with a good rock song before taking you down into the dark places that we all go to with "Drowning" and "Devil In My Ear." Then you come out of that with "I'm Still Fine" realizing "Oh crap, I'm down in the valley but I'm still fine because God's still got me" ahead of rejoicing with "On My Knees," and realizing that getting through all these bad things is what makes us stronger with "Made By These Moments." Closing out the album with a perfect ending is "God Does," a gentle reminder that even though you may not think something is possible, God does.

It's like a roller coaster ride to redemption. 

Coleman: Addiction and survival, too — all of it.

You mentioned "Drowning" a moment ago, which is one of my favorites on the record due to both its message and Brandon's high-powered vocals — particularly during its chorus — that remind me a lot of Chris Stapleton. It's a little bit country, blues and rock with a heck of a lot of emotion. 

Coleman: Thank you. "Drowning" was originally written in A, so we were singing the chorus, but it wasn't quite up there note wise. I felt like we had a lot of room to keep going up, so we walked it up to a C so it has more of that screaming vibe to it, which definitely helped the song. 

It feels fitting and reminds me of when we were struggling in 2020 and 2021 and were driving for Uber. I finally scraped up $100 to get my car's oil changed. It was supposed to be free, but the place ended up charging me a $40 fee before convincing me to buy new air filters too, to which I said "go ahead" because I just can't say no. What was a $15 air filter I ended up getting charged $75 for, taking my would be free oil change up over the $100 I'd just saved up. 

I remember leaving there, going back home and kicking this drawer that I'd picked up on the side of the road. I ended up breaking it and screaming at the top of my lungs, and that's what the big notes in the chorus of "Drowning" remind me of. 

If it makes you feel any better I literally got my car's oil changed this morning and they got me on the upcharge for an air filter too. 

Coleman: It does, but it hits a lot different when you only have $100 to your name.

Absolutely. And thankfully that's something y'all aren't having to deal with anymore. What a difference a couple years can make! 

Coleman: Even going through all that, despite how hard it was, we were never hopeless. We all just looked at it as going through a battle. We still had faith in God all the way, even when it was very hard to, which was very scary and stressful. People always say to never quit and to never give up, and that's turned out to be true for us too. 

That leads me to "God Does." There's a lot of rockin' tunes on this record, but that song stands out from the rest, both in its message and the stripped back format you recorded it in. Was it always your plan to compose it like that or did you ever have a plan to give it a similar treatment to the rest of this project? 

Coleman: I can't speak for Drew, but that was always my idea of how it would be. Working with Dave, he has his ideas too, and in the studio they all mesh together as we figure out and create it. He changed the whole beat up on ["God Does"] and gave the song more of a waltz-y feel that completely transformed it for the better, in my opinion.

Nix: I had a country-er imagination for it when I wrote and demoed it. I bought a pedal steel about a year ago to have it go more of the country route, but the way it turned out is better than I ever imagined.

Coleman: I like the way Drew came up with it, too. I actually still have that work tape on my phone because I remember how that song helped me out during that time of uncertainty and struggling. We played a show in Baldwin County [Alabama] somewhere and were using Jacob's old bus because our's was broken down. One of its tires went flat, so we had to leave it at the venue. Drew and I returned the next day to change the tire so we could get home. It was then that Drew told me about this new song he'd just written called "God Does." 

I don't know if he knew, but I was sitting there just trying to hide my tears as I listened to it because of being in that time of life of not knowing what to do and feeling hopeless. That song came along at a very good time and really changed my trajectory mentally.

The word "rabid" may often be tossed around in conversations about fan bases, but Koe Wetzel's die-hard followers truly deserve the distinction. A quick search of the Texas-born singer/songwriter's fans reveals videos of Wetzel breaking up audience fights, arguments over featured vocalists and many, many Koe-inspired tattoos.

So, what is it about the 32-year-old country star that gets people so riled up? For starters, Wetzel, like Zach Bryan or Cody Jinks, is an outsider in the genre. He found his footing and honed his unorthodox sound — which defies traditional genre conventions to include influences from hard rock and hip-hop — as part of the Texas music scene rather than on Nashville's Music Row, the genre's commercial epicenter. Wetzel debuted in 2015 with Out on Parole, an album released under the name Koe Wetzel and the Konvicts. That record and its follow-up, 2016's Noise Complaint, made Wetzel a star on the college touring circuit, and by the time 2019's Harold Saul High was released, he was charting on Billboard while fielding management and label offers.

Wetzel's rough-and-tumble persona is another draw. He's outlaw country in his music and in life, with the Feb. 28 date of his 2016 arrest for public intoxication now known as "Koe Wetzel Day." He's known for working hard and partying harder — though, as he tells GRAMMY.com, he hopes to soften that image with his new album 9 Lives, out now.

As Wetzel puts it, at the heart of his gritty, irreverent persona is "just a goofball" who "probably should" go to therapy more often. Accordingly, his songwriting on 9 Lives is his most vulnerable to date, mingling meditations on fame and mental health with party anthems and hardscrabble tales of life on the road. Produced by Gabe Simon (Noah Kahan, Lana Del Rey), the record takes the gritty, rough-hewn country rock of Wetzel's earlier releases and lets it breathe a bit, adding touches of pop and roots to his grunge-leaning, hip-hop inspired beginnings.

Highlights on the record include the gritty and groovy title track and "Bar Song," a hypnotically infectious ode to a wild night out; "Leigh" shows off Wetzel's comedic side, as he playfully laments falling for "girls with names ending in Leigh." He also includes two drastically different covers: "Depression & Obsession" by late rapper XXXTentacion, and "Reconsider" by Keith Gattis, a country singer/songwriter who died in 2023 — further proof that Wetzel is anything but your typical country artist. 

On the album's July 19 release, Wetzel chatted with GRAMMY.com about his switch-up with 9 Lives, from recruiting a new producer to covering a rap song and more.

It's rare to speak to an artist on an album release day, so I'd love to hear how your day is going and what the feedback from your fans has felt like so far.

I'm just glad that everybody's taken [the album] in the way I wanted them to, you know? I didn't know how people were going to react to it, because it is a little bit different from the sound that we put out before. But the reaction has been great. I think people are getting a little bit more of a feel for the stuff that we put out in our earlier years. 

Your fan base is so passionate, and it seems like they are also really open to you taking risks and hearing new sounds from you. Does that resonate with you?

Yeah, for sure. It's not that they were getting used to the same sound we had been putting out for the last couple of records, but I felt like they were wanting something a little different than the country rock stuff. And I think with this record, we give them that. We're giving them  something that they haven't heard from me before. 

Take me back to the early days of plotting this record. What got the ball rolling for you?

Well, we really didn't go into it expecting it to be a full record. We hadn't put out music in a while, so we went into it with [the goal of] get[ting] a couple singles out, just to get stuff going for a record, possibly, in the future. I hadn't put out my music in almost two years at that point. And so, the idea was to go in and write some newer stuff. I knew the direction that I wanted it to go — a little bit softer, more honest, vulnerable route. 

We got in [the studio] with Gabe Simon and Amy Allen and Carrie K and Sam Harris in El Paso, and we were there for, I think, two or three days. We wrote four songs: "Damn Near Normal," "Sweet Dreams" and a couple other tunes. We kind of sat back and looked at everything, and it all came really easy for us. 

We looked back like, "All right, man, this sounds great. We should do it again." So, we hooked back up in Nashville at RCA, and we knocked out a couple more. I think we did four or five more songs in a couple of days there. Before we knew it, we're like, "Man, we got a whole record in there." It wasn't planned at all.

It must feel good to go in without any major expectations and come out of the studio with music that fits your vision.

Yeah, for sure. Gabe Simon — he really brought that out. It was my first time working with him. It was kind of scary, going in to write and work with somebody that you've never met before and being so open and honest with them. He pulled out everything that made all those songs [right for] the record.

It sounds like the two of you have a special creative partnership. What do you think it is about your work with Gabe that made him the right fit for the record?

One thing is just us coming from two different worlds. I'm a Texas guy, and he's coming from Nashville. It's just those two worlds colliding, pretty much. And he really cared about me and cared about my life, — things that are going on in my life instead of just being about the music. He cares about my well-being. We're friends now, and he'll hit me up on any given day and ask, "How you doing? How you feeling?" It has nothing to do with music. That's the type of dude Gabe is. 

I think that played a big part in this record. Of course, he cared about the music, but he also wanted everybody to understand the stories that were being told. 

You mentioned earlier that you get into more vulnerable territory on this record. What was it like for you to open up in that way in your music?

Honestly, it was kind of freeing. I don't go to therapy as much as I probably should. And I've said this a couple of times, that when I first met Gabe and Amy and all them, they all sat me down and picked my brain, just trying to get song ideas and [figure out] which way I wanted to go with the record. I always say that was my first real therapy session. And it was total strangers. 

I don't talk about my feelings and stuff as much as I probably should, so whenever I get to write this music and play this music, that's pretty much how I express how I feel.

On the other end of the spectrum, you're great at incorporating humor into your songwriting. On this record, I'm particularly thinking about "Leigh," which is just so clever. What role does humor play in your writing process?

I'm a goofball. [With] my persona, people want to think I'm just this hardass, kind of outlaw dude, but I'm really just a goofball. I like to have a lot of fun. I like my records to have a lot of fun. So throwing in songs like that to keep people on their toes, you know, it's just to let them know it's not always so serious. It's a lot of fun and games. 

We had a lot of fun making that song. At first, it kind of started off as a joke, and then we kind of sat back like, "Holy s—, this is pretty good. This is a fun song." We can't wait to play that one.

The two cover songs on the record fit so well, even though they are from drastically different artists, XXXTentacion and Keith Gattis. How did you choose those, and what made them fit the rest of 9 Lives?

Keith Gattis, I didn't really get to know him or do a deep dive into his music while he was alive. He passed away last year. And Charlie Robison was one of my favorite Texas artists growing up. They passed away pretty close to each other last year. 

Once I figured out that Keith wrote a lot of Charlie's songs, I really dug into his music a lot more… Something inside me was just like, "Yo, you gotta cut this song." I feel like it rounded out the record. We just tried to do it as much justice as possible. 

[It was] kind of the same with "Depression & Obsession." XX is one of my favorite underground rappers. I love that era of music. I love what he did. He was another artist that was gone too soon. There's no telling what more we could have gotten from him. So, I wanted to do it justice and give a nod to them by putting those songs on the record.

You have Jessie Murph joining you on "High Road." How did the two of you connect?

Ron Perry with Columbia, he signed her a couple years ago. When we signed with Columbia, he asked if I'd heard of Jessie Murph. I wasn't familiar with her at the time. Then I looked her up and instantly became a fan. She's a f—ing superstar. Her voice is amazing. 

We talked about having a duet on this record, but I couldn't find a singer that I wanted to have on the record. But it was kind of easy because Jessie worked with Columbia and, like I said, I was a huge fan. So, we hit her up. We let her put her own spin on it, and she absolutely crushed it. 

You're certainly busy enough, with a new record out and a tour coming up. What else are you looking forward to in the second half of 2024?

More new music. We're already trying to get more new music going. We've got a lot of songs that are still in the vault that probably should have made the record but it just didn't feel right at the time. I can't really say a whole lot, but we've got a lot of songs in the vault and I'm still writing. So, once the tour's over with, we're hoping to put on some new music pretty quick.

Fifteen years into his career, Adam Lambert is primed for the after-party. In fact, the pop star has made an entire EP for the occasion — fittingly titled Afters.

The six-track project, which drops July 19 via More Is More Records, finds the big-voiced singer trading the expansive covers of his last LP, 2023's High Drama, for a no-holds-barred romp that takes listeners from the club to the after-party to the bedroom and beyond.

"It's my love letter to our nightlife culture," Lambert tells GRAMMY.com on a phone call from New York City. And though he admits to recording the bulk of Afters in L.A., the project is imbued with the club kid spirit of New York's queer community — from the primal sexuality dripping off dual lead singles "LUBE" and "WET DREAM" to the strutting, ballroom-ready kiss-off (and nearly NSFW title) of follow-up track "CVNTY."

Ahead of the EP's release, the queer GRAMMY nominee (and frequent Queen collaborator) celebrated his new musical chapter with a special party at The Standard High Line's nightclub Le Bain. Organized by legendary NYC nightlife impresario Susanne Bartsch as part of her famous On Top! event series, the soiree felt like a full-circle moment for Lambert as he watched drag artists like God Complex and ShowPonii slay the house down boots to his new music. 

"I've always really been drawn to that kind of world," Lambert says of the thriving LGBTQIA+ party scene. "I think even way back before '[American] Idol,' I remember being in L.A., when I was in my early twenties and trying to find the parties. They were pretty underground at the time, where people would dress up and wear crazy makeup. And of course, I was there in my platform boots, stompin' in. So I've always sort of sought out that community. I love it."

Below, Lambert takes GRAMMY.com through the colorful and unapologetically queer inspirations that led to Afters, from the '90s house sounds of Crystal Waters to finding freedom in radical creative expression — and, of course, plenty of sex.  

Feeling Free — And Sexy

I've always loved electronic dance music, I've always loved house. And it's interesting because, for a long time, it was considered sort of "niche" for a gay person to make dance music. And now it just feels like it makes sense. [Laughs.] It's so obvious, you know?

I was working so hard for so long and on tour for so long, and I did a lot of tours with Queen and on my own stuff. I was so focused on my career for so many years, and then as the pandemic kind of faded and we were getting into that next chapter, I made some time for a social life. Which was much needed. That's what kind of inspired me to want to make this music. 

I just wanted to make something that felt like my actual social life — that felt like my life. I'm in a relationship, we've made lots of friends in L.A., we have lots of after-parties. We socialize, we go out, we go to clubs, we go to bars. I wanted to make music for that.

My private life is...exciting is how I would probably put it, and passionate. So it's definitely fueled from that. The music is written in first person, but it's also sort of meant to inspire the listener to want to feel that type of freedom as well. You listen to something about sex and hopefully it makes you go, "Yeah! I feel sexy!"

Overcoming Post-'American Idol' PTSD

When I first came out the gate after Idol, I did a big old performance [at the 2009 American Music Awards]. I got in trouble for kissing the guy and having sexy dance moves and stuff, and that gave me a little dash of almost a PTSD of, like, "Oh, OK, there's a line that I can't cross. And if I do, I could risk losing everything." And that fear drove me down a certain path where I felt like I had to hold back a certain amount. 

That was very much a reflection of where we were at as a society at the time, and what the mainstream was able to digest. The music industry was a different game back then. There were a lot more gatekeepers, a lot more obstacles that I encountered. Now, the industry has shifted so much, just in terms of how people get music, how you can reach your listener, how you can make music, what kind of label situation you have set up. There's a lot less filtering going on. That's what also inspired me to want to make something that was more liberated. 

My perspective has shifted a lot. That fear early on came from a place of, "I don't want to lose this opportunity." There was a little dash of imposter syndrome in there. You know, coming off of "Idol," feeling like, "Oh my god, how did I get here?" It happened so fast. And I think just having stayed in the game over the last 14 years has given me a sense of confidence. It's given me a sense of belonging.

I've found more of who exactly I am over that time. Working with Queen has been a real boost in confidence as well, and has allowed me to sort of feel like I've earned something.

Setting The Mood

I love music that puts you in a mood, in a headspace. And that's what I wanted Afters to be. That's why I called it Afters. It was, yes, you could totally listen to these at a club, but it's also, like, lyrically, when you go to a club and then you go to an afterparty, the rules are out the window. You can do whatever you want, you know? And people feel that freedom. 

There's something to be said about growing up a bit and maturing as a performer. You feel less of a need to prove something [vocally]. I think I'm finding less of an impulse to be, like, "Look what I can do!" and more, "Look what I can make you feel." The "less is more" thing does start to become more obvious.

As I've gotten a little older, too, my voice has shifted a bit. And I have, like, lower parts of my voice that I haven't really dug into before that I definitely did on this project. Which is kind of a fun experiment. I just wanted to do something that was more vibey. 

'90s House & '20s Hyperpop

I like going into a project with, like, a reference and a direction. It gives you sort of a roadmap…I have a whole playlist of newer stuff that I kept adding. A lot of it's somewhat obscure, but then there's artists out there that I think are really cool, like Slayyyter [or] COBRAH. A lot of the DJs that I really like — Chris Lake is amazing. Even stuff like Disclosure… I really love them. I just wanted to make music that made me move.  

I found myself gravitating towards a similar sound over and over again — sort of a dirty house, kind of sexy tech-house sound. Certain textures and sonics that I started noticing as a pattern of the stuff that I liked. 

I love a good, soulful house vocal, always…Like Crystal Waters or any of those. I love that, like, '90s house vibe. And obviously "DEEP HOUSE" [on Afters] has a little bit of that. So does "WET DREAM," where you get into that soulful pocket. It's so fun to sing from that place.

Queer Voices In The Studio 

It was really important for me to make sure there were queer people in the room when I was writing these songs. Back when I was first starting, the major label writing setups that I was put into, there weren't many queer people. And that's changed so much — there's more and more queer people in the music space. Definitely top-line songwriters, and then even more and more, I'm finding producers that identify as queer, and that's really exciting. 'Cause it makes everybody less afraid and just willing to sort of go for it.

"WET DREAM," I did with Sarah Hudson and JHART and Ferras, who I've known for ages. Vincint and Parson James worked with me on "LUBE." Just people that I really admire. Vincint did some background vocals on "LUBE," actually, which is cute. Vincint and I did a collab on his project recently as well, so that was cool that we got to each kind of add to each other's project.

A lot of the songwriters are friends of mine who I've known for a long time. I was like, "Do you want to do a song?" Which makes the writing process so much fun.

Queer Rebellion & Sexual Healing

I think, right now, people want to find freedom. I think people want to find an escape. There is a lot of sociopolitical energy right now that's kind of dark and negative, that's coming at us from the right wing, super-conservative side of the world. Some of that can make us feel dark as well, and kind of discouraged. 

But I also think there's a lot of us, including myself, that feel like that lights a bit of a rebellious flame in us, and makes us want to shine brighter and be bolder and be wilder and crazier than we are. And [I] see that out and about: people are more and more expressive, emotionally, with their identity [and] how they want to explore [it].

There are members of our community that want to explore their gender identity; there are members of our community that want to explore their feminine side or their masculine side. There's, I think, more acceptance in that exploration and that expression right now than there's ever been. It's f—ing great. It's always been there in the [LGBTQIA+] community, but you're just seeing it on display a little bit more. People are more comfortable going there and exploring it, and I love that. 

There's less and less shame around sex than there's ever been. We're more mainstream than we've ever been — there's more with social media and [pauses] other types of media on the internet. And that's really exciting. 'Cause sex is f—ing great. And healing, and wonderful, and exciting. It's our human right to explore our sexuality, and I see more people feeling freer in that. 

Finishing With A Climax

One of the Afters songs, "FACE," was actually created a while ago. I wrote that with Pete Nappi, like…four-ish years ago? During the pandemic, I think. But it sounded very different. And once I started getting more house tunes together, I kinda was like, "OK, can we take this idea and evolve it into a higher BPM and a dancier kind of direction?" 

We sped it up, we added a bigger beat to it, more of a four-on-the-floor feel to make it feel "club." But it's definitely the last track on the EP for a reason. 'Cause it slows down compared to the other songs a bit. If the rest of the EP is foreplay, it's sort of like the home run. [Laughs.] It's like once you get that person that you've been into all night into the bed, what happens?

Three months after OneRepublic began promoting their sixth album, Artificial Paradise, in February 2022, the band unexpectedly had their biggest release in nearly a decade. The pop-rock band's carefree jam, "I Ain't Worried," soundtracked Top Gun: Maverick's most memeable scene and quickly became a global smash — ultimately delaying album plans in favor of promoting their latest hit.

Two years later, "I Ain't Worried" is one of 16 tracks on Artificial Paradise, which arrived July 12. It's a seamless blend of songs that will resonate with longtime and newer fans alike. From the layered production of "Hurt," to the feel-good vibes of "Serotonin," to the evocative lyrics of "Last Holiday," Artificial Paradise shows that OneRepublic's sound is as dialed-in as it is ever-evolving.

The album also marks the end of an era for OneRepublic, as it's the last in their contract with Interscope Records. But for the group's singer, Ryan Tedder, that means the future is even more exciting than it's been in their entire 15-year career.

"I've never been more motivated to write the best material of my life than this very moment," he asserts. "I'm taking it as a challenge. We've had a lot of fun, and a lot of uplifting records for the last seven or eight years, but I also want to tap back into some deeper material with the band."

As he's been prepping Artificial Paradise with his OneRepublic cohorts, Tedder has also been as busy as he's ever been working with other artists. His career as a songwriter/producer took off almost simultaneously with OneRepublic's 2007 breakthrough, "Apologize" (his first major behind-the-board hit was Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love"); to this day he's one of the go-to guys for pop's biggest names, from BLACKPINK to Tate McRae.

Tedder sat down with GRAMMY.com to share some of his most prominent memories of OneRepublic's biggest songs, as well as some of the hits he's written with Beyoncé, Adele, Taylor Swift and more.

I was producing and writing other songs for different artists on Epic and Atlantic — I was just cutting my teeth as a songwriter in L.A. This is like 2004. I was at my lowest mentally and financially. I was completely broke. Creditors chasing me, literally dodging the taxman and getting my car repoed, everything.

I had that song in my back pocket for four years. A buddy of mine just reminded me last month, a songwriter from Nashville — Ashley Gorley, actually. We had a session last month, me, him and Amy Allen, and he brought it up. He was like, "Is it true, the story about 'Apologize'? You were completely broke living in L.A. and Epic Records offered you like 100 grand or something just for the right to record the song on one of their artists?"

And that is true. It was, like, 20 [grand], then 50, then 100. And I was salivating. I was, like, I need this money so bad. And I give so many songs to other people, but with that song, I drew a line in the sand and said, "No one will sing this song but me. I will die with this song." 

It was my story, and I just didn't want anyone else to sing it. It was really that simple. It was a song about my past relationships, it was deeply personal. And it was also the song that — I spent two years trying to figure out what my sound was gonna be. I was a solo artist… and I wasn't landing on anything compelling. Then I landed on "Apologize" and a couple of other songs, and I was like, These songs make me think of a band, not solo artist material. So it was the song that led me to the sound of OneRepublic, and it also led me to the idea that I should start a band and not be a solo artist.

We do it every night. I'll never not do it. I've never gotten sick of it once. Every night that we do it, whether I'm in Houston or Hong Kong, I look out at the crowd and look at the band, and I'm like, Wow. This is the song that got us here.

We were halfway through promoting Dreaming Out Loud, our first album. I played basketball every day on tour, and I snapped my Achilles. The tour got canceled. The doctor told me not to even write. And I had this one sliver of an afternoon where my wife had to run an errand. And because I'm sadistic and crazy, I texted [songwriter] Evan Bogart, "I got a three-hour window, race over here. Beyoncé called me and asked me to write her a song. I want to do it with you." He had just come off his huge Rihanna No. 1, and we had an Ashley Tisdale single together.

When you write enough songs, not every day do the clouds part and God looks down on you and goes, "Here." But that's what happened on that day. I turn on the keyboard, the first sound that I play is the opening sound of the song. Sounds like angels singing. And we wrote the song pretty quick, as I recall. 

I didn't get a response [from Beyoncé after sending "Halo" over], which I've now learned is very, very typical of her. I did Miley Cyrus and Beyoncé "II MOST WANTED" [from COWBOY CARTER] — I didn't know that was coming out 'til five days before it came out. And when I did "XO" [from 2013's Beyoncé], I found out that "XO" was coming out 12 hours before it came out. That's how she operates.

["Good Life"] was kind of a Hail Mary. We already knew that "All the Right Moves" would be the first single [from Waking Up]. We knew that "Secrets" was the second single. And in the 11th hour, our engineer at the time — who I ended up signing as a songwriter, Noel Zancanella — had this drum loop that he had made, and he played it for Brent [Kutzle] in our band. Brent said, "You gotta hear this drum loop that Noel made. It's incredible."

He played it for me the next morning, and I was like, "Yo throw some chords to this. I'm writing to this today." They threw some chords down, and the first thing out of my mouth was, [sings] "Oh, this has gotta be the good life." 

It's the perfect example of, oftentimes, the chord I've tried to strike with this band with some of our bigger records, [which] is happy sad. Where you feel nostalgic and kind of melancholic, but at the same time, euphoric. That's what those chords and that melody did for me.

I was like, "Hey guys, would it be weird if I made the hook a whistle?" And everyone was like, "No! Do not whistle!" They're like, "Name the last hit song that had a whistle." And the only one I could think of was, like, Scorpion from like, 1988. [Laughs.] So I thought, To hell with it, man, it's been long enough, who cares? Let's try it. And the whistle kind of made the record. It became such a signature thing.

Adele — "Rumour Has It," '21' (2011)

"Rumour Has It" was the first song I did in probably a four year period, with any artist, that wasn't a ballad. All any artist ever wanted me to write with them or for them, was ballads, because of "Halo," and "Apologize" and "Bleeding Love."

I begged [Adele] to do a [song with] tempo, because we did "Turning Tables," another ballad. She was in a feisty mood [that day], so I was like, "Okay, we're doing a tempo today!"

Rick Rubin was originally producing the whole album. I was determined to produce Adele, not just write — because I wanted a shot to show her that I could, and to show myself. I stayed later after she left, and I remember thinking, What can I do in this record in this song that could be so difficult to reproduce that it might land me the gig?

So I intentionally muted the click track, changed the tempo, and [created that] whole piano bridge. I was making it up as I went. When she got in that morning. I said, "I have a crazy idea for a bridge. It's a movie." She listens and she says, "This is really different, I like this! How do we write to this?" 

I mean, it was very difficult. [But] we finished the song. She recorded the entire song that day. She recorded the whole song in one take. I've never seen anyone do that in my life — before or since.

Then I didn't hear from her for six months. Because I handed over the files, and Rick Rubin's doing it, so I don't need to check on it. I randomly check on the status of the song — and at this point, if you're a songwriter or producer, you're assuming that they're not keeping the songs. Her manager emails my manager, "Hey, good news — she's keeping both songs they did, and she wants Ryan to finish 'Rumour Has It' production and mix it." 

When I finally asked her, months later — probably at the GRAMMYs — I said, "Why didn't [Rick] do it?" She said, "Oh he did. It's that damn bridge! Nobody could figure out what the hell you were doing…It was so problematic that we just gave up on it."

I was in a Beyoncé camp in the Hamptons writing for the self-titled album. [There were] a bunch of people in the house — me, Greg Kurstin, Sia — it was a fun group of people. I had four days there, and every morning I'd get up an hour and a half before I had to leave, make a coffee, and start prepping for the day. On the third day, I got up, I'm in the basement of this house at like 7 in the morning, and I'm coming up with ideas. I stumble across that chord progression, the guitar and the melody. It was instant shivers up my spine. 

"Lately I've been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be" is the only line that I had. [My] first thought was, I should play this for Beyoncé, and then I'm listening to it and going, This is not Beyoncé, not even remotely. It'd be a waste. So I tabled it, and I texted the guys in my band, "Hey, I think I have a potentially really big record. I'm going to finish it when I get back to Denver."

I got back the next week, started recording it, did four or five versions of the chorus, bouncing all the versions off my wife, and then eventually landed it. And when I played it for the band, they were like, "This is our favorite song."

It was my second session with Taylor. The first one was [1989's] "I Know Places," and she sent me a voice memo. I was looking for a house in Venice [California], because we were spending so much time in L.A. So that whole memory is attached to me migrating back to Los Angeles. 

But I knew what she was talking about, because I lived in New York, and I remember the feeling — endless possibilities, all the different people and races and sexes and loves. That was her New York chapter. She was so excited to be there. If you never lived there, and especially if you get there and you've got a little money in the pocket, it is so exhilarating.

It was me just kind of witnessing her brilliant, fast-paced, lyrical wizardry. [Co-producer] Max [Martin] and I had a conversation nine months later at the GRAMMYs, when we had literally just won for 1989. He kind of laughed, he pointed to all the other producers on the album, and he's like, "If she had, like, three more hours in the day, she would just figure out what we do and she would do it. And she wouldn't need any of us." 

And I still think that's true. Some people are just forces of nature in and among themselves, and she's one of them. She just blew me away. She's the most talented top liner I've ever been in a room with, bar none. If you're talking lyric and melody, I've never been in a room with anyone faster, more adept, knows more what they want to say, focused, efficient, and just talented.

I had gone through a pretty dry spell mentally, emotionally. I had just burned it at both ends and tapped out, call it end of 2016. So, really, all of 2017 for me was a blur and a wash. I did a bunch of sessions in the first three months of the year, and then I just couldn't get a song out. I kept having, song after song, artists telling me it's the first single, [then] the song was not even on the album. I had never experienced that in my career.

I went six to nine months without finishing a song, which for me is unheard of. Andrew Watt kind of roped me back into working with him. We did "Easier" for 5 Seconds of Summer, and we did some Sam Smith and some Miley Cyrus, and right in that same window, I did this song "Sucker." Two [or] three months later, Wendy Goldstein from Republic [Records] heard the record, I had sent it to her. She'd said, very quietly, "We're relaunching the Jonas Brothers. They want you to be involved in a major way. Do you have anything?" 

She calls me, she goes, "Ryan, do not play this for anybody else. This is their comeback single. It's a No. 1 record. Watch what we're gonna do." And she delivered.

My memory is, being in lockdown in COVID, and just being like, Who knows when this is going to end, working out of my Airstream at my house. I had done a lot of songs for movies over the years, and [for] that particular [song] Randy Spendlove, who runs [music at] Paramount, called me.

I end up Zooming with Tom Cruise [and Top Gun: Maverick director] Jerry Bruckheimer — everybody's in lockdown during post-production. The overarching memory was, Holy cow, I'm doing the scene, I'm doing the song for Top Gun. I can't believe this is happening. But the only way I knew how to approach it, rather than to, like, overreact and s— the bed, was, It's just another day.

I do prescription songs for movies, TV, film all the time. I love a brief. It's so antithetical to most writers. I'm either uncontrollably lazy or the most productive person you've ever met. And the dividing line between the two is, if I'm chasing some directive, some motivation, some endpoint, then I can be wildly productive.

I just thought, I'm going to do the absolute best thing I can do for this scene and serve the film. OneRepublic being the performing artist was not on the menu in my mind. I just told them, "I think you need a cool indie band sounding, like, breakbeat." I used adjectives to describe what I heard when I saw the scene, and Tom got really ramped and excited. 

You could argue [it's the biggest song] since the band started. The thing about it is, it's kind of become one of those every summer [hits]. And when it blew up, that's what Tom said. He said, "Mark my words, dude. You're gonna have a hit with this every summer for, like, the next 20 years or more." 

And that's what happened. The moment Memorial Day happened, "I Ain't Worried" got defrosted and marched itself back into the top 100.

Tate McRae — "Greedy," 'THINK LATER' (2023)

We had "10:35" [with Tiësto] the previous year that had been, like, a No. 1 in the UK and across Europe and Australia. So we were coming off the back of that, and the one thing she was clear about was, "That is not the direction of what I want to do."

If my memory serves me correct, "greedy" was the next to last session we had. Everything we had done up to that point was kind of dark, midtempo, emotional. So "greedy" was the weirdo outlier. I kept pushing her to do a dance record. I was like, "Tate, there's a lot of people that have great voices, and there's a lot of people who can write, but none of those people are professional dancers like you are. Your secret weapon is the thing you're not using. In this game and this career, you've got to use every asset that you have and exploit it."

There was a lot of cajoling. On that day, we did it, and I thought it was badass, and loved it. And she was like, "Ugh, what do we just do? What is this?"

So then it was just, like, months, months and months of me constantly bringing that song back up, and playing it for her, and annoying the s— out of her. And she came around on it. 

She has very specific taste. So much of the music with Tate, it really is her steering. I'll do what I think is like a finished version of a song, and then she will push everyone for weeks, if not months, to extract every ounce of everything out of them, to push the song harder, further, edgier — 19 versions of a song, until finally she goes, "Okay, this is the one." She's a perfectionist.

I love [our latest single] "Hurt," but my favorite song on the album is called "Last Holiday." I probably started the beginning of that lyric, I'm not joking, seven, eight years ago. But I didn't finish it 'til this past year.

The verses are little maxims and words of advice that I've been given throughout the years. It's almost cynical in a way, the song. When I wrote the chorus, I was definitely in kind of a down place. So the opening line is, "So I don't believe in the stars anymore/ They never gave me what I wished for." And it's, obviously, a very not-so-slight reference to "Counting Stars." But it's also hopeful — "We've got some problems, okay, but this isn't our last holiday." 

It's very simple sentiments. Press pause. Take some moments. Find God before it all ends. All these things with this big, soaring chorus. Musically and emotionally and sonically, that song — and "Hurt," for sure — but "Last Holiday" is extremely us-sounding. 

The biggest enemy that we've had over the course of 18 years, I'll be the first to volunteer, is, this ever-evolving, undulating sound. No one's gonna accuse me of making these super complex concept albums, because that's just not how my brain's wired. I grew up listening to the radio. I didn't grow up hanging out in the Bowery in CBGBs listening to Nick Cave. So for us, the downside to that, and for me doing all these songs for all these other people, is the constant push and pull of "What is their sound? What genre is it?" 

I couldn't put a pin in exactly what the sound is, but what I would say is, if you look at the last 18 years, a song like "Last Holiday" really encompasses, sonically, what this band is about. It's very moving, and emotional, and dynamic. It takes me to a place — that's the best way for me to put it. And hopefully the listener finds the same.