Morgan Wallen has met the girl of his dreams; he has fucked up considerably and lost her forever; he is drowning his sorrow in whiskey; he feels the spark of new love; he pledges to change his miserable ways. The 29-year-old Tennessee native’s music portrays life in this never-ending cycle, and at each point along the way, he’s got all kinds of bumper sticker slogans, frat-brotherly advice, and heartfelt apologies to bestow upon his enormous fanbase. Lucky for them, these thoughts arrive to him in great, bountiful harvests so that all his albums are incredibly long, resulting in a thick catalog of frothy, familiar country anthems, spilling forth like a bursting keg to flood the Billboard charts.

After the release of his second album in January 2021, the 30-song Dangerous: The Double Album, Wallen’s hyper-prolific strategy merged with his gruff, reality-show nonchalance (he first found an audience as a contestant on The Voice) to cement him as the crossover country star of the young decade. Then a month later he got caught on video using the n-word while stumbling home drunk over the weekend, and he quickly became something even bigger. Despite the public fallout and some short-lived repercussions (he was disqualified from the Grammys and placed on temporary hiatus by his label), Dangerous became the year’s most commercially successful release, tying a record set by Whitney Houston during the Reagan administration. As of this week, more than two years later, it’s still hanging around the Top 5 albums.

Through it all, Wallen’s attitude has been this: What is the absolute least I can do? There was, in quick succession, a requisite apology tour that included a direct-to-camera vlog posted on Instagram, some talk of charitable donations, an interview on Good Morning America, and a collaboration with Lil Durk. All the while Wallen seemed mentally fatigued and physically uncomfortable, as if the most important lesson he learned from his experience was that a lot of people are watching and it’s best not to make any sudden moves. Recently, the most engaged he’s seemed was an hour-long podcast appearance with his collaborator and friend Ernest Keith Smith, where they mostly talk about working out and their high school baseball careers. When Ernest asks what Wallen did as a teen to inspire his polarizing reputation on the ballfield, Wallen gives a knowing smirk as he chews his Skoal: “Just doin’ the same thing I would do today.”

Herein lies the key to Wallen’s music. So much of his appeal—and any country artist on his level—comes down to convincing the world of their inherent confidence, the distinctness of their personality and unwillingness to change. You love them because you know them, and you know them because they know themselves. “I take a lot of pride in what I am,” sang Merle. “Blame it all on my roots: I showed up in boots,” yodeled Garth. “I was around some of my friends, and we just… We say dumb stuff together… I think I was just ignorant about it,” hedged Wallen.