Megan Moroney, The ‘Emo Cowgirl’/’Bad Bitch’ of Country, Sells Out Radio City (Twice), Sheds, Arenas & More (Cover)

It’s just past noon at Momentary Green in Bentonville, Arkansas. An extension of the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, the multi-faceted performance space in a repurposed cheese factory along the Razorback Regional Greenway, the 5,000-capacity outdoor space hosts an eclectic mix of artists: Ziggy Marley and Burning Spear, GloRilla, Alabama Shakes and Hippo Campus’ “Flood Tour.”

Today, even before Megan Moroney gets onstage for soundcheck, there’s a semi-trailer ballet going on. Nominated for Album of the Year for Am I Okay? (I’ll Be Fine)  and Female Vocalist Of The Year at next week’s Academy of Country Music Awards (following last year’s win for New Female Artist of the Year) the incisive singer/songwriter in the midst of her first true headlining tour and is bringing the big production.

If that means a complicated one truck in, one out choreography, the 27-year old singer/songwriter is fine with it. So are PunchBowl Entertainment founder Juli Griffith, the publishing doyenne who’s been with Moroney from the beginning, and co-manager Hayley Corbett, both working out of a trailer; one figuring out the flowers for the big “Miss Universe” number, the other “steaming Megan’s bow”— because that’s what high-functioning artist teams do.

In a world of punching down, being a victim and being overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, Moroney – in her sparkly everything, 10 glorious pounds of add-on blond curls and a wicked sense of self-effacing humor – emerges as the voice of Gen Z, but really all good-hearted women who recognize empowerment isn’t merely a bumper sticker.

“We knew this year we wanted to bring a pretty big production,” Corbett says. “She’s created a world of Am I Okay? Even before we got to ‘The Lucky 2.0 Tour,’ Megan had notes on what she wanted for this tour.”

That world includes three screens, two huge hearts (one you can actually sit in), a rocket ship landing, a quick change area, three buses and four trucks. She’s a long way from her days opening for Jamey Johnson, in a church van with three musicians Griffith helped field after she got the offer.

“I sent Jamey three songs,” Griffith remembers. “He got right back to me, said, ‘Damn, she’s good.’ Jamey knows writers, and he knows me. ‘What do you want?’ I said, ‘First of three…’

He asked, ‘Does she have a band?’ and with true card-player moxie, Griffith responded, ‘Of course.’”

An unlikelier pairing is unlikely. Johnson, a gruff hardcore outlaw, has an uncompromising crowd. Laughing now, Griffith marvels, “Those guys really loved sparkly pony princesses. We needed extra security guys because some of those biker guys really loved her.”

For her part, Moroney looked at the macho crowd as a challenge. “I didn’t have any expectations. I knew they cared about songwriting, so I was like, ‘Yeah, bring it on!’

“Even though Jamey looks like a biker dude, songs like ‘In Color’ are so real and true. It was funny – me in my sparkly dress and Jamey with that big beard – but it lived in this space of truth-telling in the songs.”

After swapping Deana Carter’s coming-of-age tune, “Strawberry Wine,” for John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery” as a duet in Johnson’s set, Moroney showed she could go toe-to-toe with a formidable veteran. That skill would serve her doing a sultry reworking of Brooks & Dunn’s “Ain’t Nothing ’bout You,” too.

Even more than the sum of her opening slots, Moroney was built with a focus on hard tickets. Credit UTA’s Elisa Vazzana, a 15-year fairs and festival agent, who believed in the power of creating a connected fanbase. Seeing Moroney’s lightning strike social media momentum – and the massive viral success of 2022’s “Tennessee Orange,” ultimately a No. 1 radio hit, as well as ACM and Country Music Association Song of the Year nominee – she made the career-investing decision to underplay clubs instead of jumping on tours.

“The decision to play these intimate, smart shows was on brand,” Vazzana offers. “A Gen Z’er, even a Millennial, wants ownership. They want to be the one to tell their friends about the cool artist they found.

“People thought we were crazy, putting up 250- [to] 500-cap clubs with ‘Tennessee Orange’ blowing up. It was a $15 ticket, taking away the barrier to entry. Those shows were announced, the tickets were gone. The buzz was crazy, and we knew she could sell tickets.”

Vazzana, like Griffith and Moroney, were intent on not skipping steps, not going for the fast money or flossy shortcuts. As Vazzana says of her client – who will later play doubles at Radio City Music Hall, L.A.’s Greek Theatre, D.C.’s The Anthem, Nashville’s The Pinnacle, Savannah’s Enmarket Arena (9.5K) and Athens, Georgia’s Akins Ford Arena, plus a triple at Dallas’ Texas Trust CU Theatre (cap. 6,350) and an appearance at Austin’s Moody Center arena as part of the iHeartCountry Festival – “She’s got a marketing brain, and she’s wildly creative; she’s got charisma for days. But she’s also looking to build this over the next three, five, eight years. She recognizes the difference between a smash and grab and building for longevity.”

Noting the four songs she recorded so Vazzana could book her “were strong enough for two club tours,” the veteran agent cites the generational-spanning nature of Moroney’s songs. “She writes so deeply about these things in her life, it takes away how old or what era you’re in and just lands on the emotion, the details.”

So much so, it wasn’t long until the dress-alikes started appearing. Long on cobalt – Moroney’s shade of – blue, short, poofy dresses, white cowboy boots and all forms of dimestore beauty accessible to all, the Everywoman glamosphere makes her fans instantly recognizable, especially on Manhattan’s subway system during her Radio City stand.

“She’s all inclusive,” Griffith explains. “She wants everyone to feel pretty, to feel seen and part of it. The bully thing is a real issue with her. It’s why she does ‘Miss Universe’ and brings a girl up onstage; gives her a sash and flowers, asks her a pageant question.”

“And why in ‘The Girls,’ we have all these pictures on the screens we had the fans send in before the tour started,” Corbett picks up.  “Megan wants everyone to feel seen, to be part of it. She instills confidence through the songs and talking, onstage and at meet & greets. She’s all about it.”

“I like to tell everyone before ‘The Girls,’” Moroney says, “’Whether you came here with your best friends or all alone, put your arm around the person next to you and sing!’ We all need that, so why not do it together?”

Indeed, at many shows, the singing is so loud, it’s hard for Moroney to hear herself in the monitors. But that only empowers her. Moroney continues, “So many moments in this show are healing. So many times, I’ll look out and see people crying, or faces that are just the happiest faces in the world. Sometimes I get DMs after the show that say, ‘Tonight when I heard ‘Girl in the Mirror,’ it gave me the strength to get out of my relationship.

“Tangible moments that can influence life after the show? That’s humbling.”

Not that the girl who was an accounting major at the University of Georgia had a master plan that included any of this. One thing led to another to an internship with Sugarland’s Kristian Bush’s publishing company, then Nashville to be a songwriter, then Griffith and Vazzana – and now, seemingly, the world.

“We passed on direct support slots for two major tours to be second of four with Kenny Chesney last summer,” Vazzana says of her unorthodox playbook. “Again, people thought we were crazy, but I knew it was an opportunity to learn, to study and really push herself.”

Chesney admits having second thoughts before the tour started.

“I thought this poor child was going to go out there and bleed out,” he admits. “The last act that worked in that slot had 10 No. 1s. Here’s this young woman with a viral hit … I was really nervous for her.”

Learning curve aside, Moroney stood in the wings during Chesney’s set; he brought her onstage that first night (“In her shorts and Uggs,” Griffith chuckles, “totally unprepared for it) as a way of welcome. By the third show, she was owning the stage, joining Chesney for “All The Pretty Girls.” By late spring, her merch numbers were outpacing the other acts on tour.

“She’s a student. She’s fearless. She misses nothing,” Chesney says. “When you add the creativity and talent, the way she writes, her work ethic and learning curve, she’s unstoppable. Plus she’s got such unique positive energy. We loved having her out there with us.”

Moroney took her days between amphitheater and stadium shows and booked her own headlining dates. As Vazzana said, “We wanted to establish that Megan’s momentum was real and scalable – that she could sell 3,000 to 5,000 tickets on her own, laying the groundwork for sustained growth beyond the exposure she gained with Kenny.

“And when it came time for her to do the CMA Music Fest show at the stadium, she killed it because of what she’d learned on Kenny’s tour.”

Corbett recalls, “When she got off the stage that last show (at Gillette Stadium), she ran to her parents and started crying happy tears. She works harder than anyone I’ve ever been around and this night was all-encompassing of her vision being brought to life. She had the summer to end all summers, her new album (Am I Okay?) was out – and she was getting ready to start her biggest headline tour yet.”

Packing up five neon signs in wood boxes by nailing them in – as they couldn’t afford road cases – the all-female team did what they do best: made it work. Fearless, female and embracing a “what needs to be done?” ethos, Team Moroney is bringing a world of snow angels in the post-show confetti, eye rolls as ultimate dismissal and laughing at one’s own missteps as ultimate self-care into hard focus.

Whether the next Dolly, Taylor, Madonna or Gaga, Megan’s live show is about bringing the unlikely together to romp, sing and celebrate being good to each other. If telling the truth on some world class dumbo romantic realities is part of the grouting that holds it together, all the better.

“I see a lot of screaming and jumping up and down, a lot of blue, sparkles and a lot of merch being worn, especially the camo shirts,” Moroney says of the view from the stage.  “I remember being that girl in the 300 section of the stadium seeing Kenny Chesney, and I want – for those 90 minutes I’m onstage – for them to think about what crazy thing they want to do, then go do it!”