Chase Rice’s career has been one of the most unpredictable in all of country music. He shot to fame in 2012 as one of the co-writers of Florida Georgia Line’s massive hit “Cruise,” the ur-text of country’s bro-country phase, and capitalized on the movement with his own album of bro tunes, 2014’s Ignite the Night. But over time, the North Carolina-raises songwriter became disillusioned by overly produced songs and vapid lyrics, and slowly began a transformation into a campfire-guitar singer. Starting with 2023’s I Hate Cowboys & All Dogs Go to Hell, he challenged himself to write deeper material, culminating with last year’s Eldora, an album of story-songs that touched on topics as varied as weed (“Cottonmouth”) and abortion. (“So we said goodbye for what we did,” he sang in the title track, “we were just two kids with too much life to live.”)
But while Rice finally found fulfillment in writing such songs, he shocked his fans earlier this month when he announced he had become exhausted by touring. In an online post, he said he was taking a hiatus from the road and bid goodbye to his band and crew. We called up Rice to find out what brought him to this decision, and how walking away from the primary source of an artist’s survival — touring — will affect his future.
You got everyone buzzing this month when you posted that you were quitting the road.
I had no idea that was going to do that. I was just basically telling everybody I’m done for a bit.
What was the breaking point that led you to that decision?
It was earlier this year, probably around September. I was elk hunting, and I just really didn’t want to go back. I wanted to stay out in Montana. Throughout the fall, I kept doing shows, but I was like, “This is not right. I’m not excited to get onstage anymore.” Everything felt wrong. So, I had a conversation with management and my agent, and it was just like, “Wow, we’re really going to do this. I’m going to step away until I feel like I want to do it again.”
To be clear, you’re not canceling any shows you have on the books for this year.
No, we’re not canceling anything. I’ve been on the road for 13 years straight, and we had 80-plus shows this year. I just don’t feel like I have anything new and great to offer right now. I’ve really enjoyed the last three records I’ve made, and, if I’m being honest with you, I don’t think a lot of people even know they exist. And that’s on us. I think we’ve done a bad job promoting it. I think a lot of people didn’t believe me, especially on the first one, that this is actually who I am. And to my defense, I came in in the bro-country era. I came in so green that if, back then, I would have met Sturgill [Simpson] and he and I became friends — I’m just using him as an example — then that’s probably what my sound would have been. I didn’t know. I was just following whatever.
But you’ve evolved since those bro songs.
Yeah, I finally slowed down in 2020, when everybody slowed down, and I started playing songs on guitar again. I’d been writing songs to tracks for 10 years and I didn’t even mean to. I fell in love with writing songs on a guitar, which is so elementary when you think about it.
So, is this a break from music overall?
No, not at all. It’s just a break from touring. I’ll probably never tour like I did again. And financially, that is not your best decision, because if you’re doing 80 shows over one year, you’re not doing it because you’re making a million dollars a night, not for me anyway. You’re doing it because it’s a business. You got to cover your expenses, and sometimes it takes that many shows to cover your expenses. So, I’ll never do that again. But creatively, I’m planning on writing my ass off. There won’t be an album this year, I know that. But I’m really looking forward to slowing down, seeing what we can create.
Artists make their living on the road. Do you feel you’re going to have to find a new way to make money?
[Laughs] Hell yeah, it’s scary.
Or can you coast on the royalties from “Cruise”?
No, those have kind of slowed down. It was a huge blessing in my life, but it was also a little bit of a curse, because that’s who I became without even knowing it. But, yeah, shit is scary. I’m sitting here looking at my pool that’s busted. It’s been broken for a year and a half. Everybody comes out here like, “It’ll be 400 grand to fix it.” I can’t do that. I have no idea how I’m going to make money. I’ll make a little bit off the shows that I’m doing, but you’re not going to get rich off that.
What’d your business manager say when you floated this idea?
The cool part about it all was everybody on my team agreed that I should do it. It’s scary as shit not knowing where your money is going to come from, but it’s a fun thing to be in a place where you’re not making what you usually make, and you’re still content with it. That just assures you that it’s the right move. I have zero plans of going back to any of the more pop stuff. I’m going to keep writing the style of music that I make now on a guitar and pray for the best.
Some of the shows you booked for 2026 are solo gigs at Eric Church’s bar here in Nashville.
That was probably part of what really started this thing for me. It was just me and a guitar, and I found more joy out of that than I did on the big shows that I was doing. I want to learn some cover songs. I’ve been at duck camp with Zach Top and Jake Worthington, and we sat around the fire in Oklahoma, and they’re playing all these different [Keith] Whitley songs, and Don Williams songs and Hank [Williams] songs. I’ve missed out on learning from the greats on how to write songs. I want to go learn some John Prine songs. I think that’s going to benefit me and my songwriting.
So, do you have a final show in mind?
I’m just letting the year play out. One of my favorite quotes is from a book called A Lion Tracker’s Guide to Life: “I don’t know where I’m going, but I know exactly how to get there.” And that’s where I’m at right now.
