It may be hard to believe, but Walker Hayes, country’s biggest breakout artist of 2021-22—whose “Fancy Like” and “AA” are two of the genre’s Top 5 streaming songs YTD—was working at Costco just 20 months ago. “Fancy Like,” the TikTok viral sensation that celebrates Applebee’s as a bougie date-night choice, picked up Grammy and ACM nominations and made Hayes a supernova.

But Hayes is hardly an overnight sensation. He released his first record on Capitol in 2011, following a short-lived record deal with Mercury. His long-in-coming second album, 2017’s boom, contained “You Broke Up With Me,” his first charting single. A half decade later, Hayes is Monument Records’ MVP.

Just as importantly, the onetime atheist and recovering alcoholic teamed with Craig Allen Cooper—who’d gifted Hayes with a van to transport his six children after his only working vehicle broke down beyond repair—to write Glad You’re Here: Two Unlikely Friends Breaking Bread and Fences earlier this year. The book, about hitting bottom, accepting reality on its terms and finding unsurpassed blessings, has already spawned six study guides. Is it any wonder Hayes believes in miracles?

Alongside primary co-producer/writer Shane McAnally, Hayes creates music for people trying to make ends meet. Deftly employing percussive wordplay and his wry sense of humor, Hayes drops references that reflect the lower economic reaches of the nation’s flyover states, imbuing his lyrics with lived-in authenticity. Country Stuff the Album, released in January, speaks directly to those living a grown-up life, settled down but not willing to lose their zest for what living can hold regardless of what the day hands them.

The affable 42-year-old artist has faced down more than his share of rough stuff, and he talks freely about it. He laughs about the momentum “Fancy Like” generated, and to those offended by follow-up “AA”—specifically the lines “Just trying to keep my daughters off the pole/ And my sons out of jail”—his attitude is “Bless their hearts.”

Hayes continues stacking dance-friendly tunes and TikTok moments with a vigor not seen since Brooks & Dunn’s “Boot Scoot Boogie.” He knows as well as anyone that we all need to let off a little steam.

Things have really turned around for you.
I’ve never heard “yes” so many times as I have this year. I’ve been grinding away since 2004, 2005. It’s been crazy how things have gone.

Was it what you expected?
Honestly, I wish I had a better answer. I don’t really do this job for success or Grammy Awards; I just love writing songs. Even when I’ve done other jobs, I’ve written songs. But you can’t imagine it.

How’d you keep believing?
I don’t know. Perseverance or faith that it would happen? Like the Luke Combs song: I’d be doin’ this. But you know too that this’ll all go away. Fifty years from now, nobody’ll know who Walker Hayes is. But right now, I can do all sorts of crazy, fun things.

Even with all this success, not everything’s sunshine and roses.
At the Grammys, Laney [his wife] and I prayed. When we lost, I realized: I wanted that glory. We wanted that—and we were furious and felt like losers.

But what’s a Grammy? A badge? Something on the mantle? Do you like me more because of it? Do you? Because life’s a struggle, and I’m not sure this is the one. You can be Elon Musk; you own Tesla, you made all the right investments. But what’s real? I promise he’s struggling with something.

Fame can be disorienting.
It’s confusing [laughs]. I go 17 years and no one cares about me. We’re not making any sense or money. Then, all of a sudden, people want to come to a show, get a selfie, play the songs...

God put me here to put out music. I believed that when it wasn’t working, so I believe it now. But these days, I can put it out faster than ever—and I can take my family with me too.

Your book has been on The New York Times Bestseller List. It’s pretty real about your life and how tough it was, whereas your songs are clever and funny.
Knowing how broken an individual I am, how not shiny I actually am, I’m pretty self-aware. That’s a good thing to show people too. I’m a three-year Believer; I became a Christian a few Augusts ago. I pray every day that the Lord will work through me and shine through me. The book talks about alcoholism, about Laney and losing one of our kids [their seventh child, Oakleigh Klover, shortly after birth]; it talks about a lot of things. Some people have read it and are dusting off their Bibles or buying their first Bible.

Faith is tricky when things are rough. Doubt had to be a factor.
I’m not a goal-oriented guy; I’m not an achiever. I have a family to feed and a wife to protect, to put a roof over their heads, to clothe. I remember thinking, “Is it fair to drag them along while I pursue this elusive dream? Or should I put down the dream job?”

What did you figure out?
Honestly, I didn’t know. Even if I did, those answers aren’t to answer your dream. And the dream doesn’t give you answers either. I’m still a crappy parent. Success has really proven nothing to me. Applause, yes, but nothing beyond that.

And yet...
I think if there’s a crazy dreamer out there, wanting to look to me, I’m not sure what I’d tell them. Money’s not the answer. I don’t know what the signs are that it’s working for other people. But I’ve got mine: The songs are connecting, making people happy. That’s what I’d always wanted.

“A.A.” has really challenged some people. I thought it was funny, straightforward, telling it like it is. But I’ve been told some people find it offensive. Explain that.
The line about wanting to keep my sons out of jail and my daughters off the pole... I wasn’t surprised, actually. I knew a lot of people would do that—for a million reasons, actually. You can just dissect it, obviously. People claimed it was sexist, because I was saying there was something wrong with being on a stripper pole. Um, I don’t think anyone wants to see their little girl up there, and if you did...

I’ve said if someone comes back to me with that line and can explain how that line injured them, I will publicly apologize and change that line, because I would never hurt anyone’s feelings. But a lot of people have said that I have the capability to say what people are thinking but not saying. I’m not afraid to make a mistake, get it wrong and fix it. That’s being human.

“A.A.” also gets into the dynamics of meetings, how people actually talk about this stuff.
We all need some mercy, right? Nobody knows it all. Some of us know a lot, often about different things, so we can all be helpful to each other. Look at what the song’s really about, because I don’t think anyone picks up their beer thinking about going to rehab. Seven years sober, and I can tell you that when I picked up that first beer at 13, I was not thinking about going to rehab.

And you’re passing the healing and the message of Bill W. on in a way that makes it welcome instead of shaming.
If it’s “A.A.” and a dad’s sitting there, saying, “I’m trying not to mess my kids up, thinking about my dad and not wanting to do those same things,” well, that gives them a lot of room. It’s sneaky-awesome, a little, but the loaded subject delivers what someone might want to hear. To me, the laughter’s good, but it delivers something way more important.

Being real doesn’t mean not being funny.
My wife knows. She knows all my broken places, and she stays with me. My 16-year-old daughter has seen drunk Dad, broken Dad, saved Dad; she’s seen ’em all. But I think this is the Dad she likes best.

What have they learned from all your success?
Being prom king will fix nothing. It will bring no peace, no rest. It will bring more problems—and more people into my life who think they know. I don’t think I’m a big Debbie Downer either, but life’s not perfect.

My favorite book in the Bible is Ecclesiastes. You have the king, and nothing is ever enough. You have this father and he’s so broken. You have this superman and he’s so broken. The broken is where the love is. That’s a superpower.

Marriage is finding someone you want to forgive for the rest of your life. I love that quote. Some people hear that and don’t think it sounds fun. But I think it’s everything.

And if your daughter’s on the pole?
If any of my daughters do end up on the pole, it won’t change how I feel. I love them so much—and I will love them so much no matter what.