How is a 27-year-old Navy veteran from Oologa, Oklahoma filling stadiums from Boston to Tulsa to Los Angeles — and how does he do it by singing? country What is it about music? How does one artist capture the attention of both the middle class and the coastal elite? And what does it say about the shared experiences and aspirations of rural and urban Americans? Zach Bryan might have the answers.
While many have commented that Brian doesn’t fit neatly into one genre, his raw lyrics, stripped-back instrumentation, and evocative ballads, weaving together elements of rock, folk, and Americana, are closest to country music (some have called him a modern-day Springsteen). Inspired by other alt-country artists like Tyler Childers and the Turnpike Troubadours, Brian is reinterpreting the genre while returning to its roots. His rise to the top was a rare one in this era of Nashville radio stations. Brian shot to the top after a selfie video he filmed behind his dorm went viral. Three years later, his songs are topping the charts.
Zach Bryan doesn’t play on Christian radio, and some churchgoers might blush at his prudery, but Christian themes roll off his lips as smoothly as curse words. He’s part of a growing number of artists in the alternative folk/rock/country field who let their music reflect their own spiritual and religious journeys. Singer-songwriter Maggie Rogers, who collaborated with Bryan, even earned a master’s in religion from Harvard Divinity School to better understand the religious aspects of her work. Their duet depicts a breakup, with Bryan saying he should have known better because “she never said anything about Jesus,” to which Rogers replies in his mystical, postmodern way, “I should have told you twice that I believed in something bigger than the two of us.”
Zach Bryan isn’t on Christian radio, and some churchgoers might be embarrassed by his irreverence, but Christian themes roll out of his mouth as smoothly as curse words.
What’s interesting about Brian’s use of Christian vocabulary is that it seems original to him: rather than repeating the country church clichés that plague mainstream country music, he uses traditional Christian vocabulary and concepts to describe, process, and address his own life experiences of joy, pain, satisfaction, and failure.
His popular song “revivalFrom the 2020s Elizabeth is a perfect example: he sings, presumably in exclusively Christian terms, about house parties. He seems to see house parties as a joyous escape from the suffering of the world, similar to Christian revivalism. He also sees confession (individual and corporate) as part of this revivalist journey.
Boys, gather around this table
Shame makes your voice hoarse
Cry to the gods about the evil we have done
Mahl says mom tried but prison won.Your sins are my sins too
If you can’t say it, rage wells up in my bones.
But if I have friends, I feel safe
Lord, forgive me and my sonsAll-night revival will be held
Someone calls the woman, someone steals the Bible
To survive
Baptized with a bottle of Beam, put Johnny on the recordWell, the devil can fight, but the Lord has won.
And I’ll talk to him under the rising sun
His son rose, my son rose.
I was feeling down but now I’m talking to you
Some of Bryan’s metaphors are still difficult to understand. The final stanza is a striking and doctrinally profound expression. The Victory of Christ Put in context (“The devil can fight, but the Lord has won.”) And on a deeper level than many realize, Brian is rejoicing in the victory of the cross while mocking his enemies.
The 2023 album of the same name,Keeping time” reflects the wisdom of 1 John 2:15 (“Love not the world, nor the things in the world”), as he sings of “breaking ties with that which binds your mind to this world.” He also adopts Augustine’s adage that he will not rest until he finds rest in Christ. The clueless Augustinian cowboy describes himself as “combative, spiteful, a son of Oklahoma/Restless, reckless, hopeful.” Later on the same album, “SpotlessThere is more Augustinian wisdom in the poem as Brian regularly confesses his sins.
I’m not perfect, and neither are you.
Once in my life, I’ll do it.
If I want purity, I always lose.
My love, you gave me love, you gave me truth
He opens the album with a bold tenderness, a spoken word poem that reads like Ecclesiastes, exploring the good life.
I have learned that every waking moment is enough, and that excess never leads to a better outcome. It just piles more and more on top of what is already there: breathing, chasing, slow dancing, loving, fighting, laughing. I feel mad, worthless, and disgusted by almost everyone I meet, but I am overly loyal to those who have been kind to me. I do not fear tomorrow, and never will, because today feels enough.
in “Burn, burn, burnHe explores the hidden nature of God as follows:
I see God in everything
Spring Trees, Pain, and Night
So why do I still want a house?
Indeed, even a cursory listen to Brian’s music reveals him as someone who wrestles with God. It’s often subtle, but sometimes Brian makes it more overt. Like Jacob wrestling with God in the night, he “Hello Driver“:
Hey driver, pull over, I’m at war with God
This shoulder of Carolina seems to be where I’ll land.
In a musical genre increasingly fascinated with light beer, hookups and pickup trucks, Zach Bryan values the very breath of life. He wrestles with big questions and searches for enduring joy in the face of suffering.The East Side of SadnessIn “I Can’t Stop Thinking,” Brian returns from war in the Middle East only to reflect on the personal despair of losing his mother to cancer. He sings of wandering drunkenly through the streets of Tulsa at 6 a.m., “asking God where the hell I’ve been.” Brian may not be the first country artist to ask God where the hell he’s been, but he might be the first one honest enough to wait for a response. After a breather, the entire band rings out in a chorus of hopeful awakening.
He said the sun will rise tomorrow
Somewhere on the east side of sadness
Brian’s unexpected rise to fame, military background, awareness of decadence, understanding of grief, raw lyrics, and talent for string instruments seem to epitomize a modern-day cigarette-smoking David. Like the tiny rock that conquered Goliath, Brian’s cell phone video took Twitter by storm. Both modest yet miraculously propelled individuals to fame and success. All the women of Israel sang and danced about Saul killing thousands and David killing tens of thousands. Similarly, women in Oklahoma sang and danced to George Strait’s 8 million monthly listeners and Zach Bryan’s 21 million monthly listeners.
Both David and Brian have a knack for words, especially in poetry, that convey truths that prose cannot. Their emotive poetry is not the opposite of their strength, but rather a path to true strength that must always be traveled down the dark road of weakness. Both are great artists, pilgrims, and modern-day “kings,” but Brian would do well to follow the teachings of King David, who prays, “Create in me, O God, a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me.”
Zach Bryan’s triumph among a polarized demographic goes beyond simply showcasing the cultural similarities that exist between rural Americans and the urban elite. Likewise, his success cannot be attributed solely to musical talent. His compositions are not particularly complex. Rather, Bryan expertly taps into people’s deepest emotions through poignant lyrics. This is not achieved through vague, ambiguous words; instead, he paints a vivid, concrete portrait of intense feelings that resonate deeply in the hearts of his listeners. Zach Bryan, like many of his listeners, seems to yearn for the very heart of God.
