Why Carly Pearce Is One of My Heroes
Long before the awards, the Opry membership, and the No. 1 records, she was just another dreamer trying to survive Nashville. She did.
Last night, I attended CMA Fest with a friend, and it got me thinking about someone I’ve admired for a very long time: Carly Pearce.
There are plenty of talented people in the music business. Plenty of great singers. Plenty of gifted songwriters. But every once in a while, you come across an artist who feels different. An artist whose music seems inseparable from who they are as a person.
That’s Carly.
A true country music artist in every sense of the word.
Someone who appreciates the soul behind a song. Someone who understands that music isn’t just about melodies and hooks. It’s about telling stories that people can see themselves in. I’ve always felt her greatest gift was her ability to write songs that are relatable, moving, and deeply human. Add in her uniquely enchanting voice, and it’s easy to understand why so many people connect with her music.
Carly and I aren’t close friends. “Distant acquaintance” is probably the better term. I know her, and she knows me. I’ll occasionally send a text, and she’s always gracious enough to respond. That may not sound like much, but in an industry filled with people who become larger than life, I’ve always appreciated how genuine she is.
And that’s part of why I admire her so much.
But my admiration goes far beyond her talent or her success.
I admire her because of her story.
I first met Carly Pearce around ten years ago. Back then, she was a young artist trying to find her way in a town that can be equal parts dream factory and heartbreak machine. Nashville is filled with talented people. Every songwriter round has someone who could be a star. Every bar has a singer with a great voice. Every listening room is full of people chasing the same dream.
Most of them never get there.
That’s not because they aren’t talented. Sometimes it’s timing. Sometimes it’s luck. Sometimes it’s simply that there are only so many seats available at the table.
That’s why Carly’s journey has always stood out to me.
Long before the awards and hit records, she was grinding. Playing bars. Playing listening rooms. Playing small showcases. Playing anywhere someone would hand her a microphone and give her a chance.
I can still remember seeing her perform at the Listening Room Cafe and thinking there was something special there. I used to love it when she played the song, “You Know Where to Find Me,” acoustically. It was a special moment in time.
Even then.
Before the hits.
Before the awards.
Before the Grand Ole Opry.
Before the sold-out crowds.
There was something about her.
Not because she acted like a star.
Because she believed in the work.
Because she showed up.
Because she kept showing up.
The day she came in with “Every Little Thing” still climbing, SiriusXM was featuring her as a Highway Find. She was performing at the Grand Ole Opry that night at the Ryman Auditorium, and I may or may not have mentioned the fact in front of her that I wished I could attend that night. :)
She told me she would get me on the list.
Shortly before the photo above was taken, Carly told me she had lunch earlier that day with Scott Borchetta. The deal wasn’t done yet, but it was clear something was happening. She had been grinding for years, and for the first time it felt like the industry was starting to catch up to what so many of us already believed.
What I remember most is something she said that night.
She told me that ever since “Every Little Thing” started finding success, people all over town were suddenly responding to her calls.
I never forgot that.
Nashville can be a funny place. For years, people don’t have time for you. Then one song hits, one opportunity breaks your way, and suddenly everyone wants to take the meeting.
Standing backstage at the Ryman that night, it felt like I was watching one of those moments happen in real time.
What many people don’t realize is just how long the road was.
Carly grew up in Kentucky and was so committed to country music that she left high school as a teenager to perform at Dollywood. Think about that for a moment. Most teenagers are worried about prom and football games. Carly was betting on herself and chasing a career in music.
Even after moving to Nashville, success didn’t come quickly.
In fact, there were years where it looked like it might never come.
Country music was in a different era then. Female artists often faced an uphill battle for radio airplay and attention. There were long periods where women struggled to get the same opportunities as their male counterparts. Many talented artists disappeared before they ever got their chance.
There were times Carly openly questioned whether she should continue.
Yet she did.
She kept writing.
She kept performing.
She kept believing.
And eventually, that persistence paid off.
One of my favorite memories involves “Every Little Thing.”
A lot of people passed on that song.
But SiriusXM didn’t.
The program directors at SiriusXM heard something in it. Scott Borchetta heard something in it. JR Schumann heard something in it. The people around that project understood what it could be.
And when you heard Carly sing it in a room, you felt it too.
The emotion was undeniable.
The honesty was undeniable.
The song didn’t sound manufactured.
It sounded lived.
That’s why it connected.
Around that time, Carly wasn’t just making appearances on SiriusXM’s The Highway as a Highway Find. She would also come on Full Ride with Rick Neuheisel and me.
Now, let’s be honest, Carly wasn’t exactly a die-hard sports fan.
It didn’t matter.
She fit right in.
Those interviews were always fun because she was willing to laugh, joke around, and simply be herself. There wasn’t an ego. There wasn’t a celebrity act. She was just Carly.
One of my favorite moments came the week before Christmas when she brought her guitar into the studio and performed “Silent Night” for us live on the air.
Think about that for a second.
A young artist still trying to establish herself, carrying a guitar into a sports radio studio and singing Christmas music with two sports talk hosts.
It probably shouldn’t have worked.
But it did.
Because that’s who Carly has always been. Authentic. Comfortable in her own skin. Willing to connect with people regardless of whether they were country music fans, sports fans, or anything else.
And that’s something I’ve never forgotten.
There’s another story that means even more to me.
A few years ago, my friend Val was diagnosed with brain cancer.
Val was a huge country music fan and loved Carly Pearce.
Like anyone facing something that devastating, she needed encouragement. She needed hope. She needed something to smile about.
So I reached out to Carly.
I sent her a text explaining the situation and asked if there was any chance she could send Val a quick message.
Almost immediately, Carly recorded a video.
Not because she had to.
Not because there was publicity involved.
Not because anyone would ever know she did it.
She simply took a few minutes out of her day to encourage someone she had never met who was facing the fight of her life.
Val received that video and absolutely loved it.
Unfortunately, she passed away not long afterward.
But I’ll never forget what Carly did.
The gesture probably took her only a few minutes.
For Val and the people who loved her, it meant so much more than that.
Moments like that tell you who someone really is.
Awards are wonderful.
Hit records are wonderful.
Sold-out concerts are wonderful.
But character matters too.
And in my experience, Carly has always shown up when it matters.
Today, Carly Pearce is one of the most accomplished artists in country music.
She has earned multiple No. 1 songs.
She won a CMA Award for Female Vocalist of the Year.
She won an ACM Award for Female Artist of the Year.
Her collaboration with Ashley McBryde, “Never Wanted to Be That Girl,” won both CMA and ACM awards and earned a Grammy Award.
And perhaps most importantly, she became a member of the Grand Ole Opry—an honor that every country artist dreams about and one that represents acceptance into the very fabric of country music history. Knowing her the little bit that I do, I would bet that accomplishment likely means more than any other.
But when I think about Carly, those aren’t the things that come to mind first.
I think about the years before any of that happened.
I think about the uncertainty.
I think about the small rooms.
I think about the moments when quitting probably would have seemed reasonable.
That’s why her success means something.
Last night, she talked about attending CMA fest with her mom at Nissan Stadium, years earlier, dreaming of being a performer on the main stage someday. She did it.
In today’s world, we love overnight success stories. We love viral moments. We love pretending success happens quickly.
Most of the time, it doesn’t.
Most of the time, success is built quietly.
It’s built through years of work nobody sees.
It’s built through disappointments.
It’s built through rejection.
It’s built through perseverance.
That’s what Carly Pearce represents to me.
Not fame.
Not awards.
Not hit songs.
Perseverance.
At 43 years old, I find myself admiring that quality more than ever. Talent is important. Opportunity matters. But I’ve come to appreciate people who simply refuse to quit.
People who keep showing up.
People who keep betting on themselves.
People who continue moving forward even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
That’s what Carly did.
And that’s why I was thinking about her last night at CMA Fest.
Yes, I saw a successful artist standing on one of country music’s biggest stages.
But more importantly, I saw someone who never stopped believing.
Someone who never stopped working.
Someone who never stopped chasing the dream.
And that’s why Carly Pearce is one of my heroes.