Miranda Lambert maintains homes in both Nashville and Austin — hardcore country music’s equivalent of being bicoastal. One of those locales gets a bit more emphasis than the other on her just-released tenth album, “Postcards From Texas,” the first album she’s actually recorded in the Lone Star State since she rose to fame just over 20 years ago. It’s not as if the country superstar ever stood in much danger of having her semi-traditionalist sound watered down in Music City over the last two decades — pop crossover is not remotely within her field of vision. But in making a label switch from Sony Music Nashville to the New York-based Republic Records, she felt the urge to call even one more shot than she otherwise might’ve, by physically rooting the making of the album where her honky-tonk roots are.
Most things are really not changing much with her business switch from Music Row to Lipman Land. One of them is the groundedness in the classic sounds and attitudes of country music, which is one thing that has helped make her arguably the most valuable figure in the mainstream of the genre since the turn of the century. That, and the fact that she has sometimes stood almost alone in bringing feisty feminine energy to what is still largely a boys’ club… and the fact that, two decades in, she is as incapable as ever of making anything but a terrific album.
Variety got on the phone with Lambert the day “Postcards From Texas” came out to discuss the new album, the personal/classic balance in the songwriting, why she needed the label change, turning 40, and mentoring women who are following in her footsteps, like recent duet/writing partner Lainey Wilson.
We’re talking on your album release day. Do you celebrate that in any special way other than doing interviews?
It’s that busy season push, and I had a fitting, so it’s work mode. But yes, I’m looking forward to this evening. I’m going to my farm to take a minute by myself to just let it soak it, that this is my 10th album, out today. How freaking lucky am I that fans have stayed with me all this time and my country music community has believed all this time, so that I could still create? I’m so grateful for it.
So you scheduled a quiet moment for yourself, ahead of time, for tonight.
I honestly did. I scheduled a moment at my happy place, my recharge place, where all my animals are, and honestly where a bunch of songs have come out of, to just reflect. It’s almost like when you have a big birthday. I turned 40 last November, and so it’s taking a moment to go inward and reflect on everything. “Gratitude” is my word for today, for getting to release “Postcards From Texas.” … I’m having a 20-year legacy so far, and in another breath, I’m just getting started.
When we talked some time ago about the album you were making, you mentioned the term “honky tonk.” And there were country music media outlets that picked up on that and it got some of them happy — not that people would not associate that with you before. Is there something about this album that makes that term more apropos than it would’ve been for some other albums?
Yeah, I just felt like, man, I’m gonna go home and really hone in on all the things that inspired me to do this in the first place, and that’s why I felt so strongly about making this record in Texas. It is a 20-year journey so far, and at 18 I made a little independent record in Dallas, and look what happened since then. I just kind of wanted to go back to the start and make sure that that same fire was lit. And it is more than ever, I’ll tell you.
I think my aha moment was when I had my 40th birthday party at Billy Bob’s (in Fort Worth, last November). I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do, and my friend Gwen (Sebastian), who’s been singing with me for 13 years now, was like, “Where do you want to turn 40?” And I was like, I don’t know. She said, “How about Texas? That feels right for you.” And I said, “You’re right. I would like to turn 40 at home.” So we got Billy Bob’s on a Monday when they were closed, and I had Randy (Rogers) and Wade (Bowen) play it, and my friend Adam Hood and all my Nashville pals came. I think that was my aha moment of like, “OK, I know what I need to do creatively. How this makes me feel is where I’m gonna go.”
You’ve said your new label, Big Loud, was behind the idea of recording in Texas and the rest of your vision.
Oh man, I needed it. I really needed it for my spirit. I needed it for my creativity. I needed it just as a person. You know, when somebody really believes and goes down that road with you and says, “We believe in what you are — go be that,” it’s like there’s no better blessing in the world than that. And they’ve been awesome. Republic has given me such a new breath of fresh air, and also, Big Loud is so badass. They lead with art and it’s beautiful to see.
You’ve got a song on this album called “I Hate Love Songs.” You’ve said that love songs are not naturally the thing you go to the most. And then I was thinking, well, there’s another song on here that is definitely a love song, called “January Heart,” so there’s one. But then I looked at the credits and you didn’t write that one…
Exactly. See my point!
“January Heart” describes an opposites-attract, emotionally complementary relationship. Did you choose that because you feel that way in your relationship now?
I for sure feel that way in my relationship. Me and my husband are absolute opposites. And Frank Liddell (her former producer) and I have a very rich history and he sent me “January Heart” out of the blue, and I was like, oh my God. It was so beautiful and stopped me in my tracks and it’s something I never would’ve written myself. I was looking for outside songs that I could cut that would just make me feel, and it made me feel so much when I heard that. I think it’s so important for us to cut outside songs.
Another outside cut was the first single, “Wranglers,” which invokes some literal fire in a breakup, and thus taps into a vein you’re famous for. That kind of playful rage is a big part of your persona, but also a part of your persona you probably don’t want to overemphasize.
It’s true. There’s so much more than that. But that is my bread and butter.
Getting into the material you co-wrote, there is “Bitch on the Sauce (Just Drunk),” which frankly is a title that people might skip over some other songs on the album just to get to and check out. Did you start with that title and go from there?
We were on tour with Little Big Town and Cadillac Three —my favorite tour ever; so fun — and we were all hanging out way too late, drinking at the Airstream, and everyone was like, “We’re writing a group song tomorrow.” So tomorrow comes and the only two up are me and Jaren (Johnston, Cadillac Three’s frontman). Jaren came over to the bus at 10 in the morning, and we made Bloody Marys. I love Jared; I’m such a huge fan of theirs. It was apropos that we were a little hungover when we wrote this song. But just me and him were sitting on the bus and it was so fun, because I think we both have some of the same heroes. But I already have a song called “Drunk” in my set, which I cut with Elle (King — “Drunk [And I Don’t Wanna Go Home]”), so I was like, “Can I have two ‘drunk’ songs? People will start worrying about me.” So I was like, “I think we should call this ‘Bitch on the Sauce.’” And he was like, “Hell yeah, I’m all about it!” That’s how it landed there.
You have a hot artist, Parker McCollum, on a duet on the album, on a song called “Santa Fe.”
I love Parker. He is really just coming into his own, to me, just really being exactly who he wants to be as an artist. And he’s cool and authentic. Sometimes I feel like you can only pick one, and he’s both. I think he is killing it.
This album feels it has a mixture of super-personal stuff and then things where you’re just having some fun working within the classic country form, and it’s not necessarily autobiographical. That juxtaposition is apparent in how you have “Run,” one of the most seemingly personal songs on the album, followed by “Alimony,” which is a comical number about threatening divorce and threatening to collect a big payday if someone doesn’t shape up. Right there are the two extreme sides of the record — “Alimony’ doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with your story at all, although, with your parents being private investigators, you grew up hearing lots of divorce cases.
Sure did.
So maybe that has a personal aspect to you, even though it’s comedic and not your story.
I’m also in the place in my life where all my friends are getting remarried for the second time. So there’s a piece of my story in probably every single song on this record. But then there’s also, like you said, that “Let’s do what this song requires. Let’s use our imagination” part — and that’s the fun part. That’s the beauty of getting to make music. You get to make the story what you want it and put little pieces of you in it.
Let’s talk a little bit about “Run,” which is a really stark, raw song, and a solo write without any collaborators. You’ve said this one goes back 10 years or so, and that your husband (Brendan McLaughlin) actually convinced you to that you needed to cut it after all this time.
He did. Actually did.
Because of the time stamp you’ve put on its creation and the theme of the lyrics, a lot of people are going to think that it’s about you and your past marriage (to Blake Shelton). So it’s interesting to think that your husband said you needed to record this. I there anything you can say about that?
Yeah. You know, I just wasn’t ready to cut this song yet., I haven’t done it on every record, but on most records I’ve tried to cut a song that I wrote by myself. Co-writing is so much more fun, obviously, and it’s just such a way we do it. But I just really felt like I need to constantly try to at least write by myself a little bit. It’s sometimes not as fun and it’s hard. And when you cut a song that’s vulnerable like that, you can’t blame it on your co-writers and say, “Well, that wasn’t my story.” Jon Randall was also like, “We’ve gotta cut this song,” and I appreciated those two especially, but a lot of people in my inner, inner circle have heard that song for years in a work tape and now were like, “This record feels like it would be a good home for it.”
So I appreciated the nudge. Because I’ve done those kind of songs my whole career, but they aren’t ever a very comfortable place to be… You know, there was a lot of that on “The Weight of These Wings.” There was some of that in my early, early stuff that I wrote at 18, when you’re really raw, figuring it out. So, I just think those are the kinds of songs that I signed up to do. I promised to tell the truth when I started this journey, and that’s what I’m doing.
Any hesitations at all about putting something that personal out now?
You kind of go [nervously], “Ohhhhh.” [Laughs.] I feel that a little bit. But I’ve promised myself I would do that my whole career. For my fans that stay with me, I promised myself to tell my real, honest stories and real, honest truth. I promised myself and them that I would do that, and so I can’t back out of that now. And also some of the greatest songs in the world that I’ve loved the most in the whole world wouldn’t exist … Like “Whiskey Lullaby” [recorded by Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss] is one of ’em. That’s insane. Like, if Jon [Randall, who co-wrote “Whiskey Lullaby” after a period of depression and heavy drinking] can do that, then I can put out “Run,” you know?
Another song to ask about that seems to come out of real life is “Dammit Randy.”
I think everybody has a Randy.
But it seems like this os probably about your past label affiliation, even though, metaphorically, it works either way. You have mentioned that in the writing session for the song, you were telling your co-writers about coming out of the Sony Nashville situation. And that had its literal Randy. [That’s Randy Goodman, the company’s chairman-CEO… who, coincidentally, announced that he was retiring shortly after this interview was conducted.]
I definitely wanted this song to be one of those that everybody could find their Randy in. So, not too specific and not about one thing. Since people have heard it, people come up to me and have just been like, “Hey, I’ve got a Randy too. That’s what he did.” And so I’m glad that we found a happy medium of what that song could be, because I wanted it to be for everybody.
To talk about the transition from Sony to Republic, you’ve been pretty clear about the happiness you feel in making that. When someone comes out of a situation they’re not happy with and declares themselves a free agent like you did last year, it could be about money, but typically it has to do with either feeling pressured into doing stuff you don’t wanna do or just feeling not enough interest. The theme of “Dammit Randy” suggests that you felt like you’d suffered under indifference, or not caring enough until it was too late. So were you pressured at the label to ever go in a direction you didn’t want to go? Or did you just get frustrated that you were taken for granted or things had just gone on too long?
Well, there’s a little bit of all of that. When you’re on a label 20 years, you go through a lot of ups and downs. I went through four different regimes and I was on every label at Sony. I had some great times there, and some amazing relationships and some amazing champions. So I don’t want to come off sounding like I didn’t, because I really had some really great years there. My Joe Galanteyears were great, and my John Grady years were great. But sometimes it shifts, and I don’t know why or how, or whose fault it is or if it’s anyone’s or everybody’s. But I just have always lived with the art. I don’t like chasing other trends. I don’t like chasing money. I chase the art because that’s what matters to me and that’s what wins in the end. And so when it didn’t seem like that was happening, it was discouraging, honestly. And it’s hard to stay inspired when you feel like you’re kind of treading water. Which, I mean, boo-hoo — I’ve had an amazing career and work my ass off, and I’m not trying to whine about it. I just knew it was time to change and that’s what I did.
Because I seriously feel like I’m just getting started sometimes. Like, truly. I just happened to start really young, but I’m only 40 and I still have so much left to do and so much left to learn. And I’m so happy now to have a partnership that is exactly that, a partnership.
You have a lot of entrepreneurial things always happening, and you’re adding things on. Last time we talked, we were talking about your endorsement for a Lone River ranch water brand, which I very naively had to learn was not actually water. Then you’ve got the Idyllwind clothing line and the Wanda June Home collection and a bar on Lower Broad… Can you even keep track of these interests?
Yes, I love it. I approve and touch every single thing that has my name on it. And we have my charity MuttNation Foundation, and now Big Loud Texas [a label imprint she has started up to sign young artists]. These things inspire me, but I do know that it all starts with the songs, and that’s my first priority always, because I won’t have any of that if I don’t keep the authentic music going.
You have been very supportive of other artists. We recently talked with Lainey Wilson, and she talked about co-writing a song with you that is on her new album. She’s talked a number of times about how mentoring you have been to her, that you call her up or text to ask, “Where’s your heart at?,” and that touches her. What leads you to do that with somebody?
I love her, by the way. I think what leads me to do it is just knowing that nobody understands what an artist is going through more than someone who’s lived it. She called me one time, late night, and I said, hello? She said, “I gotta talk to you.” I was like, “You OK?” She goes, “Yeah. I wanted to talk to somebody who knew exactly how this feels, because my first song just went No. 1.” And I was just teary-eyed because I know how that feels. I waited up till 2 in the morning to see if “White Liar” would go No. 1, and it didn’t. [That song topped out at No. 2, but her next single, “The House That Built Me,” became her first No. 1.] And so I think that I just feel compelled when I have her on my heart, or anyone, especially young artists… it’s not an easy journey, especially at the beginning. It’s a grind. It’s a lot. And so I felt compelled because of that reason.
You got a good song out of it, and ultimately a duet, for her album, with “Good Horses.” She said she came to your place and, at your behest, took the longest nap she’d ever had before you sat down on the porch to write.
Well, she’s a gem. I just know, watching from afar, how hard she’s working, and I was like, I want to write a song with her — but she’s way more important to me as a person than a songwriter right now. I wanted her to have a little reprieve, and I know what my farm does for me. So I was like, “You’re gonna come home and have a cheeseburger, then you’re gonna take a nap. And then we might write a song.” And that’s exactly what happened.
Where do you situate yourself geographically for the most part now? Your husband is from New York and you’d mentioned having a place there. But when you spoke about being at “home” for your 40th birthday, that was Texas for you. You talk so much about how you inherently love being itinerant. Does having multiple homes help you feel that way a little even when you’re not on the road?
You know, it’s always a battle, because I do have that in me. I love to travel and I just went to Italy for two weeks. We do have a home in New York because my husband’s family is all there and my stepson, so we’re there a ton. And then we have a little cottage in Austin because that’s where my family is. But we call Nashville home most of the time, because that’s where work is and this is my community that I’ve been immersed in for over 20 years. So I I always say I’m a TNT girl: Half my heart’s in Texas, half in Tennessee. But my farm outside of Nashville is is my reprieve spot and where I go to recharge, and my animals are there. I ride horses for a hobby. That’s my downtime thing. I do. I started mounted shooting, which is super cool and fun; I’ve been doing that in Arizona.
I said this in a song, because my mom said it to me. She goes, “You know, you’re a wild child and a homing pigeon all at the same time.” And I kind of feel like that. You know, I can’t ever decide where home is. I guess that’s why I love Airstreams so much, because home’s on a hitch.
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