MORGXN: Home Is Where Your Heart Hangs Its Hat

“I don’t know when I became an activist,” MORGXN admits. “I’m just a human being who sings from the heart, but my heart is very broken by the world that we are currently living in.”

The singer-songwriter lived in Los Angeles for 10 years before moving back home to Nashville in 2022. “The minute I came back to Nashville, I ran into a guy once. He was like, ‘I only see you at the Capitol singing,’” he recalls. “When I moved back, they were trying to ban drag queens. They were trying to ban women’s access to health care.”

Most recently, he took to the Tennessee State Capitol to protest bills against same-sex marriage. “This is how rights get tested: one state, one bill, one ‘exception,’ and suddenly the floor moves under all of us,” he wrote on Instagram.

“I don’t even think about it as activism. I think about it as humanity. We are more alike as human beings than the media, the news, and politicians would want you to believe,” he explains. “It breaks my heart. If you have listened to this album, there are songs about love and the human experience. The album is for anybody bold enough to live as who they are in the middle of the heartland.

“That is what I hope people get from this album. I hope they feel less alone in their activism… I wouldn’t even use the word activism. I hope they feel less alone in their humanity, period.”

On March 6, MORGXN released a deluxe edition of his album, HEARTLAND, and while it pulls from country music, he wouldn’t exactly label it as such. “I don’t care what genre you tell me it is. I care that I’m speaking something that is true to me, and that’s how I make music,” he says. “I don’t make music outside in.

“I make music inside out. I find what’s inside, and I try to bring it outside,” he continues. “And the heartland is a place that is normally not reserved for people like me and you. And yet, living in the heartland, I see that everyone belongs in the heartland. The heartland is a space for everybody, and I want to reclaim the heartland for everybody.”

Good Country hopped on a Zoom call with MORGXN a week before the album’s release and chatted about collaborations with Tenille Townes and Maggie Rose, the meaning of community, the political divide in country, and the hardest lessons he’s learned since coming out as gay at 19 years old.

What are some of your favorite lyrics on the album?

MORGXN: “GOD CODED” is maybe the most important song I’ve ever written, whether or not most people hear the song – it’s not a radio song. But it is probably the most important song I’ve ever ushered into being. I have no problem with god or religion. I have a huge problem when people use god and religion as a weapon of their hate.

“WILLOW” I wrote for my friend’s daughter who has cerebral palsy, so that she knows that she is a bright light. Already that song has inspired other people, which really means that she has inspired other people. It’s hard for me to choose… “MIGRATION” is about losing my dog. I don’t have a favorite lyric – it’s like choosing a child. [Laughs]

Okay, here’s my funniest favorite line, “EVERGREENS.” The first line: “Tell me your sign/ And I’ll tell you mine/ And I’ll tell you if we’ll be okay.” I think that’s funny, because if I’m dating somebody, I will be like, “What is your sign?” And I’m going to decide right away if we’re even going to be compatible, which is maybe absolutely chaotic, but I love it.

With the deluxe edition of HEARTLAND you have several collaborators, including Tenille Townes, Ruby Amanfu, and Maggie Rose. How did you choose who you wanted, and what did they bring to the table?

Collaboration is like water to me. You know, I have many liquids here on my table. I am a gay man, so I have tons of liquid everywhere around – iced coffee is always a yes. Collaboration is also like breathing to me. When I think about making music, “the bible” to me is Willie Nelson and “On the Road Again.” The life I love is making music with my friends, and I can’t wait to get on the road again. That is how I think about music.

When I moved to Nashville, there were voices that I saw popping up that were saying really important things, like [Tenille Townes’] “Jersey on the Wall.” They were saying messages that really resonated with me inside of a space that is still not reserved for people like me.

I came here in 2022, which was 11 years after this manager told me I would never make it in music as an openly gay person. In Nashville, there was a thing bubbling up, but it was like you were reserved for this sideshow experience. You can be gay, but only during June, only when there’s a tent for you to stand under. That’s not how I believe in love or life or humanity. I reached out to several people wanting to create. Truth be told, I have people in my DMs who are massive artists, who love what I’m doing, but who can’t align with who I am because it will hurt their fan base. That’s insane. That’s 2026 for you.

But artists like Tenille Townes, Maggie Rose, Ruby Amanfu, Katie Pruitt – who’s obviously a queer beacon – and Langhorne Slim, they were people who were brave enough to collaborate outside of what is the norm for them. I’m really honored that they’re helping me create this version of the heartland where everyone gets to live.

With Tenille, “HEAVEN KNOWS” was the first song we ever wrote together. It was actually the day we met. The song has this sort of inner child: Why do we even keep trying in a world that feels so hard? Why do you love when your heart has been broken so many times? Why do you keep making music when it feels like the music industry is as crazy as ever? And why do you keep being a good person in a world that is hell-bent on trying to make you feel like you are an abomination? I try because I care. I love so deeply, you know.

Having grown up in Nashville, what did community mean to you then, before you came out at 19?

The one thing I’ll say about being queer in America – maybe anywhere in the world – is you’re forced to create community, and sometimes family, when that is not a given for you. I was very lucky that my family was… more confused and scared than they were not accepting. But my husband’s journey with his community – he grew up evangelical and his community kicked him out. He was going to be a pastor, going to seminary, and once he came out, he was kicked out of the church. I didn’t have that experience … but family to me widened the moment I came out. The idea that family was not just the people you were born into, but it is the people and friends and lovers who you collect along the way that were missing for me as a kid. Growing up here, I had a hard time fitting in, because everything I did stood out.

I played the Bluebird [Cafe] last night with Molly Tuttle, Maggie Rose, Liz Longley, and Ketch [Secor] from Old Crow Medicine Show. I’m sitting there singing “MY REVIVAL” – and I’ll cry thinking about this, but it’s like I’m sitting there singing [that song]. My husband is over here and the whole room is singing along with me. I have painted nails, singing my song at the Bluebird with legends. I’m the co-chair of the diversity committee for the Recording Academy in the Nashville chapter. I don’t know if I’ve “made it,” because I don’t think making it is even like the goal here. I want a career and a life, not a moment in time. That’s “making it” to me. For the closeted gay boy who was scared to ever reveal who he truly is, that’s my revival. There’s retribution. There’s deep healing, and there’s tons of gratitude, as well.

The divide in country music right now between people who are willing to sacrifice a fan base and those who aren’t is always widening. It’s cool to see who has come forward to make their voices heard.

Country music is three chords and the truth. That’s still the bible, but it has lost its way. There is a real ricochet happening where people are afraid to be truthful, because truth can sear and truth can be very quiet but very powerful. Nashville is at a breaking point. It’s a small town. We are growing by leaps and bounds. There’s a real deciding line between: do we make this a city for everybody or do we make this a city for the select few? That’s the same for country music, folk, Americana, and gospel.

“HEARTLAND,” the song, definitely pulls on gospel, folk, Americana, and pop, for sure, but it also pulls on country because it’s a story. I thought I’d see my name in lights. I thought that my life would be this flashy thing. It’s not. I fell in love with a man, and we have a farm, and we’re building a life together. That’s love to me. It’s a story. It’s my story. It’s real. So, it’s country; it’s folk; it’s Americana; it’s gospel. Now, will any of those genres accept me? I have no idea.

But the people on my album have accepted me for who I am and love me for who I am. And that, I think, is what the heartland is all about. You know, love thy neighbor. What happened to that?

You turn 39 this year, which happens to be 20 years since you came out. Was there any significance in releasing HEARTLAND (Deluxe Version) this year?

It’s funny. Titles of an album are like mystery buckets. I actually have a title for my next album and I’m so excited about it. Prince once said that he’s like two albums ahead of whatever’s commercially released. And I love that for him. I’m one album ahead of what is commercially released. Album titles visit me like a fever dream. Even HEARTLAND – the song, I gotta call out Josh Dorr, the co-writer on that song, who had a number one with Blake Shelton this year with “Texas.” He’s a legitimate country songwriter. Not even legitimate country songwriters would take a session with somebody like me and it takes guts to do that.

I haven’t thought about how it’s 20 years since I came out, but it makes a lot of sense. I have a song called “home.” When people were like, “Where is home?” I would be like, “Well, anywhere but Nashville, Tennessee, because that place would never accept a person like me.” Now, to be making a life here, building a farm, hosting Pride on our farm, there is something beautiful in that. It may have taken 20 years, but I’m home. It’s beautiful. I hadn’t really thought about time like that.

When we wrote “HEARTLAND,” I wrote it on the piano that I grew up on. There’s always ghosts in the bones of old instruments, but it’s safe where my heart lands. It’s the heartland, but it’s also where my heart gets to land safely. That’s the kind of love and belonging I wish for everybody. I’m not somebody who believes that you have to be in a relationship to be happy, or that you have to be married to be happy. That’s bullshit. That’s heteronormative, capitalist nonsense. You can find belonging amongst community, friends, and lovers. Does your heart have a place to hang its hat? That’s home.

What have been the hardest lessons you’ve learned over two decades?

The thing that comes up in my head is: it’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings. I’ve been a fat lady so… [Laughs] It will fall apart, and that’s okay. The true story is what happens when you pick yourself back up and keep going.

I’m far less interested in talking to somebody who’s never moved across the country once. I can’t really relate to you. If you’ve never sold all your belongings and moved somewhere at least twice, we might not have a lot of similar things to relate to. It doesn’t have to be grand moves. My husband has lived in a bunch of places in Nashville, has not left Nashville, but he’s lived a lot of life. You have to have lost everything once, probably twice, and hopefully that’s it. But it’s really about how you pick yourself back up at the bottom, and keep trying again.

Whether you think it’s good or not, it won’t last, and that’s okay. There’s beauty and grace in that. I have a friend, Kristen Griffith[-VanderYacht], who’s a [floral designer] – I think he’s now in Detroit – and he’s gone through a lot. He was on the Drew Barrymore Show, and the guest host was asking, “How do you keep flowers alive for longer?” Kristen grabbed his hand and he was like, “Here’s the thing, lean in close, I want you to hear this: they’re not meant to last. They’re meant to be beautiful for the moment that they’re there, and you’re meant to appreciate them in all their glory, and then you’re meant to let it go.”

That is really hard. That is maybe [informing] some of the themes about my next album, actually. It’s loving and letting go. Life is not linear. It’s not meant to be. Cherish all of the beauty, because nothing lasts forever. And there’s a ton of freedom in that sentence.


Photo Credit: Gabriel Starner

On Western White Pines (Deluxe), Colby Acuff Gives Country Roots an Idaho Spin

There was a time when “Western” influence was a pillar of what we knew as country music. Now, the genre’s center of thematic gravity has shifted to the Southeast, and with that shift the Western influence has waned – but artists like Colby Acuff still uphold this mantle.

The thing is, Acuff’s version of “Western” life may not be what you envision.

A native of Idaho, Acuff is more at home in the craggy hills, tall pines and high-mountain streams than out on the open plain. The trails he sings of are often logging roads, and the dust on his clothes comes from mining operations. But the mystique of the Western U.S. is still just as intoxicating, especially to a back-east audience.

For years Acuff balanced regional tours with a side gig as a fly-fishing guide, but these days, the bait he’s throwing is old-school country and what he’s catching is some nationwide, early-career momentum. One of the few major label Nashville artists with a traditional sound and style, this year has seen Acuff release his debut album (Western White Pines), make his Grand Ole Opry debut, and tour with fellow breakout artists like Charles Wesley Godwin – paying his van-life dues along the way.

In mid-September, Acuff added six more tracks to the album with a deluxe edition release – every bit as rootsy and Western as the initial project – and next year he’ll hit 13 stadiums with superstar Luke Combs. While he was in Nashville for this year’s AmericanaFest, BGS caught up with Acuff about his growing platform and why he’s all about a view of the American West most people have never seen.

How are things going on the road? Your world looks pretty exhausting at the moment, but also a lot of fun – and I dig the gas station food reviews. What do you think you’ll remember most from this season of paying dues?

Colby Acuff: Well, hopefully all of it. I mean, I think it’s kind of like anything else – the things that stick with you are either the really good things or the really bad things, and fortunately, we haven’t had any really bad things. I think I’ll just remember the good times. Driving almost 65,000 miles this year in a van with six or seven guys? What’s not to remember? [Laughs]

We’ve been really, really fortunate to where every year it just seems like it’s getting a little bit bigger. For me just being a kid from Idaho, I don’t know if I ever saw it getting out beyond the county line, so I’m very happy and very pleased.

You made your Grand Ole Opry debut this summer. What was that experience like?

That was surreal. It’s still crazy to me that I got to do it. I’ve always said I’m typically the last person who you’d invite to anything. I mean, we don’t get invited to too many things – we just keep doing our own thing, and that’s great. But it means anytime we do get invited to something like that, I’m always pretty shocked. To have the first one out of the gate be the Opry, who not just included us but also include us with such kind words and open arms, it was an amazing experience.

It is interesting they were one of the first institutions to recognize you – but then again, it makes sense. You have a style very rooted in traditional country and Western sounds – even some bluegrass. That kind of clashes with the modern scene, right?

Everything we’ve done has a ton of grassroots, a ton of bluegrass influence in it, but it is really country/country folk. Our biggest thing is we haven’t really ever been defined – and I don’t know if anybody actually really knows where to put us! My whole goal is to make music that’s different and that’s good, music that means something, and we’ve found fans in that. I wouldn’t tell anybody that we’re a bluegrass band by any means, but I would say that if you’re a fan of bluegrass, there’s definitely stuff in our catalog you will enjoy.

The new deluxe version of the album has six new songs, for a total of 16. You’re singing about nature and Western life, but also chasing dreams – and even what happens when you catch the dream. Where did these new songs come from?

I think this whole record is Western music, and a lot of times people think that’s cowboys and that kind of situation. But I’m not a cowboy. I am from the West. I grew up in a very Western household from Idaho. But I’m from a mountain town, not from the plains. There’s cattle and stuff where I’m from, but it’s mostly loggers and lumber and paper mills and mining, and it’s a totally different side of the West that I don’t think a lot of people realize is up there. I mean, the neck of the woods I’m from is very similar to Kentucky, just more pine trees. It’s big on fly fishing and a lot of rivers, big lakes and big trees. And that’s a side of the West I want to represent, so I tried to basically form an entire record around it. This is potentially unknown to many people, but this is where I’m from.

“Movin’” is such a feel-good, timeless country track – where did that track come from?

My favorite part about “Movin’” is definitely the fact that it’s super easy on the ears, and at face value, it doesn’t seem as deep. But really the song is super deep to me because it’s about everybody who has decided to chase the dream with me. It’s a lot to ask somebody, to chase a dream with you. And not only myself and my girlfriend, but my whole band and their families have all moved to Nashville to do that. Don’t let the rear view make you sad. We’ll get there, we’ll figure it out. That whole thing is based around the fact that we’re all going and we’re looking forward, not backwards.

Speaking of dreams, tell me about “Livin’ Too Close to the Dream.” What’s this one about?

When we started out, before I even moved to Nashville, I’d go out to the local bar or whatever in Idaho with my friends and I’d run into people who’d be like, “Man, you’re really doing it. Congratulations, blah, blah.” They’d be like, “You must be out there living the dream.” And I’d be like “Wellll, I’m really close.” And then it turned into a joke where when you’re living too close to the dream. You’re living in limbo, you’re trying to climb up the mountaintop, but the road conditions are shitty. … We’re living too close to the dream now. [Laughs]

You’ll be touring with Luke Combs and doing some stadiums next year. That’s got some living the dream potential, right?

Oh God. I mean, I can’t thank Luke enough. I just couldn’t believe we got the phone call. There’s not a bad time to go play 13 stadium shows.

Are you guys going to work up a special stadium sized set, or how does that work for a roots band?

We will go out there and wave our flag. We’ll do our thing. Every single stage that you play, you got to earn that stage. I don’t care what it is. If it’s a sold out a stadium or some empty bar, you don’t walk on stage owning that stage. You got to put that set in to earn it and they got to give it to you. So we’ll do that just like we do every night.

Are you still getting time to fish?

Not as much, obviously. I mean, shit, my quota used to be 120 days on the river. Now I might get 15 or 20. We did a run with Charles Wesley Godwin, and he was kind enough to set up a fly fishing trip, and to invite me. We went out in Wyoming and caught a ton of fish, which is super nice. I’m fitting it in when I can.

A lot of cool stuff has happened to you this past year, but there’s still lots of people getting to hear you for the first time. What do you hope they take away from Western White Pines (Deluxe)?

I just hope they like the music, really. I hope it does something for ’em. I think for me personally, I never got into this because I wanted to be famous. I got into this because I wanted to make music that truly helps people. So I hope that they like it.


Photo Credit: Matthew Berinato