MONDAY, MARCH 7 , 2022. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ RE C5
ness trip; now, he deals with the
same feelings as he picks up his
guitar case to go on tour.
McKenna recalled the two of
them writing the song over Zoom
in the height of the pandemic;
Hayes came in with the concept,
and she was blown away. “I said,
‘Oh my God, this is an incredible
idea,’ ” said McKenna, who is a
featured vocalist on the song. “It’s
in the heart of an incredible artist
that knows how to write really
well.”
Hayes has the reputation in
Nashville as a great songwriter,
she said, and credits it to his
authenticity: “I don’t think Walk-
er could ever write or sing some-
thing that he didn’t think was
true.”
While “Briefcase” has become a
fan favorite at Hayes’s concerts, it
also contains the absolute truth
about Hayes’s anxieties about
spending time away from his chil-
dren. At one point over the past
year, he started to regret being
gone so often. He told Carlton
that although he was thrilled
“Fancy Like” was paying off for
the label after its investment in
him, if he didn’t figure out a way
to balance his family life, he was
done.
“If I gotta choose between fam-
ily and fame, it’s a very easy
decision to me,” Hayes said. “I
don’t even have to sit and think
about it.”
Eventually, he was making
enough money to pay for a second
tour bus, bringing his wife and
children (already being home-
schooled) on the road with him.
And while his whirlwind year is
still an adjustment, he can’t help
but think about what’s next; play-
ing that NFL halftime show lit a
spark, and he keeps thinking
about what it might be like to
headline a stadium show one day.
“When I walked offstage, I felt
something. It was like, ‘I’m born
to do this. That is what I want to
do,’ ” he said. “So that’s a fun
unrealistic goal for me to chase. ...
I love to chase the impossible
ones, because look what happens
when you do that.”
periences — wouldn’t fit for other
artists. But in 2016, McAnally
decided that Hayes’s music was
impressive enough that he de-
served a shot as an artist. So he
signed him to a record deal at his
label, Monument Records.
“The thing you get, always,
with Walker, is, ‘Wow, that’s an
incredible song. I don’t know
what you’re going to do with it,
but that’s amazing,’ ” said Robert
Carlton, Hayes’s manager and the
senior vice president of develop-
ment at McAnally’s publishing
company, SmackSongs. Seeing
Hayes’s career finally take off has
been mind-blowing: “It’s so vali-
dating, because you believe in
something for so long and you’re
just banging your head against
the wall trying to figure out what
to do.”
Hayes‘s breakout moment is
almost too fitting for a singer who
never followed the “traditional”
country path by getting a big hit
on radio. After he was signed by
McAnally, the deceptively jaunty
“You Broke Up With Me” became
his first hit single in 2017. But his
follow-up songs didn’t get any
traction, and it felt like he was
back at square one.
Then, last summer, he released
“Fancy Like,” an upbeat track he
wrote with Cameron Bartolini,
Josh Jenkins and Shane Stevens,
with a chorus about going to
Applebee’s on a date night. (A
place where Hayes and his high
school sweetheart wife, Laney,
have spent lots of time.) His teen-
age daughter, Lela, decided it
needed an accompanying dance
on TikTok; the two bonded during
the coronavirus pandemic by
learning TikTok dances together.
After church one Sunday, they
spent about an hour coming up
with the “Fancy Like” routine
before Hayes posted it.
Soon, the video was racking up
“Applebee’s guy” know little about
his long, winding journey as one
of country music’s most intrigu-
ing and polarizing songwriters.
Or, they’re just starting to discov-
er a deeper catalogue that in-
cludes songs about Hayes’s battle
with alcoholism and the fear of
being so broke that you can’t
afford a car with enough seat
belts for all of your children. Most
don’t know about the past
18 years, where he tried repeated-
ly to launch a career in Nashville
despite constantly being told that
his pop-heavy music style was too
offbeat to ever work.
“I mean, I’m so grateful. But I
think the frustrating thing is I still
don’t know how it’s all happen-
ing,” Hayes said. “You don’t expect
so many yeses, especially in this
town. And lately, no one’s told us
no. It’s a little unnerving. You’re
like: What’s going on right now?
How has people’s perception of
what I do changed so drastically
in such a short amount of time?”
“It’s just still weird to think
back. Eight months ago, there
was so much uncertainty,” he con-
tinued. “And now I am certain I
will have a job for at least 10 more
years.”
This is not false modesty. In
2015, Hayes had been dropped
from two record deals after a
decade in Nashville and was start-
ing to seriously reconsider wheth-
er a music career was a feasible
long-term plan.
Then came Shane McAnally,
the powerhouse country song-
writer and producer who had
once declined to sign Hayes to a
songwriting deal at his publish-
ing company, figuring that his
quirky habits — beatboxing,
unique phrasing, talk-singing,
name-dropping brands, writing
about extremely specific life ex-
HAYES FROM C1
‘Applebee’s guy’ Hayes is
more than a viral TikTok
emoji and the caption: “Gotta
give props for the creativity.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s unfazed by
[the criticism], but when you’ve
been writing songs that no one
has ever heard for years and
years, it’s a huge compliment for
someone to be like, ‘I’ve heard
that song so much I hate it,’ ”
Carlton said. “That’s the dream
right there.”
Yet like with so many artists
who became stars thanks to huge
pop hits, Hayes’s music goes
much deeper. “AA,” his latest song
climbing the country radio
charts, has a laid-back tone di-
rectly in contrast with candid
lyrics about the challenges of so-
briety. “Briefcase,” one of the
standouts on his new record,
“Country Stuff the Album,” was
co-written with famed Nashville
singer-songwriter Lori McKenna.
Its heart-wrenching lyrics detail
how Hayes hated seeing his fa-
ther’s briefcase as a kid, because it
meant he was leaving on a busi-
genuinely joyful moment be-
tween a dad and his daughter.
Carlton admitted that there
was talk of an image makeover for
Hayes, but ultimately, they real-
ized his everyday-dad image is
what draws people to him: “He’s
100 percent himself ... and when
you’re 100 percent you, other peo-
ple will feel that.”
“I think if you asked my label,
they didn’t orchestrate that or
intend for me to go on TikTok and
do dances with my daughter,”
Hayes said. “But we probably
wouldn’t be here right now if that
song wasn’t accompanied by such
a magical visual.”
Every viral hit comes with hat-
ers. And sure enough, the ear-
worm that is “Fancy Like” (popu-
lar enough to now be officially at
“overplayed” status) drives some
people crazy. One viral video
shows a man repeatedly punch-
ing his car radio when the song
starts playing; Hayes posted the
clip himself with cry-laughing
so many views that he assumed
there was a glitch in the app. Fans
started sharing their own ver-
sions of the dance; within weeks,
Hoda Kotb and Jenna Bush Hager
invited him on “Today” to show
off their version of the dance, too.
Kesha recorded a remix. Ap-
plebee’s came calling to use the
song in an ad campaign in a series
of unstoppable TV commercials.
The original video racked up
more than 35 million views, and
more importantly, translated into
sales: It was the second-highest-
selling digital song in the country
in 2021, behind only BTS’s “But-
ter.”
Hayes found a huge audience
of new fans, all charmed by his
adorable and slightly chaotic
large family, who make frequent
appearances on his social media.
(Hayes has explained that when
you have six kids, taking everyone
to Applebee’s truly constitutes a
fancy meal.) That’s one reason the
original TikTok exploded: It was a
ROBERT CHAVERS
Walker Hayes: “It’s just still weird to think back. Eight months ago, there was so much uncertainty.”
BY MICHAEL ANDOR
BRODEUR
Full disclosure — and some
readers may have gleaned this
from my predilection for noise
and peppered references to tin-
nitus — I spent more of my
formative years in mosh pits
than in concert halls. Thus, it
only makes sense that I love a
power trio.
And trios don’t come more
powerful than the one that rolls
in to the Kennedy Center on
Monday night. Cellist Yo-Yo Ma,
pianist Emanuel Ax and violinist
Leonidas Kavakos have close to a
decade of collaborative history,
going back to their 2014 appear-
ance at Tanglewood to play a
program of Brahms piano trios.
Ma and Ax had recorded a num-
ber of Brahms’ works together,
but the addition of Kavakos truly
unleashed the power of three.
Three years after Tanglewood,
they released their first ac-
claimed recording, “Brahms: The
Piano Trios.” Now they’re getting
the band back together to tour
their most recent release, “Bee-
thoven for Three,” a recording of
Beethoven’s Symphonies Nos. 2
and 5 arranged for piano trio —
the former by Beethoven’s pupil
Ferdinand Ries, the latter by the
contemporary English composer
Colin Matthews.
When the trio returns to the
Kennedy Center — where last
they converged in 2018 for a
similarly concentrated program
of Schubert and Brahms —
they’ll offer an all-Beethoven
program that promises to be full
of grand gestures and small rev-
elations. The three will take on a
trio arrangement (by pianist Shai
Wosner) of the “Pastorale” sym-
phony (No. 6), as well as a pair of
beloved trios — the “Gassenhau-
er” (Piano Trio No. 4 in B-flat
major, Op. 11) and the “Ghost”
(Piano Trio No. 5 in D major,
Op. 70, No. 1).
I caught up with Ax and Ma
recently via Zoom. (Kavakos was
beset with lousy Wi-Fi in Rome,
where he was performing Men-
delssohn’s Violin Concerto with
the Orchestra dell’Accademia
Nazionale di Santa Cecilia.) Their
recordings demonstrate an al-
most supernatural chemistry,
but a quick Zoom with Ax and Ma
revealed another of their virtuo-
sic talents: driving each other
crazy. (The conversation has
been edited for length and clari-
ty.)
Q: I feel like trios right now can
serve some of same usefulness
as they might in Beethoven’s
time — the trio being a very
portable way to make music. Is
it fair to say trios are having a
moment?
Emanuel Ax: Well, really, this
was Yo-Yo’s idea ...
Yo-Yo Ma: Don’t blame me!
Ax: ... because [during the
pandemic] there were no
orchestra concerts going on.
Everything had just simply
stopped. And Yo-Yo said, “This is
our chance to play things like
the Beethoven symphonies for a
small group.” And, of course,
that was always part of the way
these pieces got introduced. The
Second Symphony is actually in
the complete Beethoven works.
It’s a version done by Ferdinand
Ries, which [Beethoven]
supervised and made changes,
too. So that’s actually a very
legitimate version of that
particular piece.
Q: And the other comes from
Colin Matthews?
Ax: Yes, 200 years later. And
even though he’s my age, he still
didn’t know Beethoven.
Ma: Manny claims to know
Beethoven, even though he’s in
his early 70s. I don’t know how
that happens.
Ax: Well, you’re six years
younger. I met [Beethoven]
when I was 4; you wouldn’t
have. Anyway, I think the reason
trios work as a kind of unit is
partly because there is the piano
— which can play many, many
notes at once — there is a bass
line from the cello, and there is
a treble line from the violin. So,
in fact, you can take in quite a
lot of the music. Does that
sound fair, Yo-Yo?
Ma: It does, and thank you
for asking me a question
because, as you can tell, Manny
is very articulate. And being a
pianist, he, you know, he plays
most of the notes, so he usually
tells me what to do when we
play together. And Leonidas,
who really doesn’t want to join
us because he thinks we’re just
...
Ax: He’s too busy working on
other, more important things.
Q: It’s a “too cool” thing. I
figured.
Ma: I don’t know what he’s
doing, but he’s a really great
person, a great violinist, but also
a really fantastic conductor. So,
as you know, conductors usually
tell us what to do. So Manny
usually tells me what to do. And
I like being told what to do,
because I’m the second child —
so it’s easy for me to just kind of
follow other people. So this trio
is an ideal way for us to make
music together.
Ax: I think he might want to
hear more about the pieces. It is
a time-honored way to
introduce music in different
arrangements, because, for
example, in Beethoven’s time,
the public was not able to hear
these symphonies as written for
an orchestra, because orchestras
were very few and far between.
Unless you were in a capital city
and you happened to be there
just that one time in the two or
three years when they were
doing that piece of Beethoven,
you might not have had a
chance to hear it at all.
Q: Did the process of relearning
these in this form reveal
anything new about them?
Ax: For me, personally, what’s
wonderful about it is I get to
learn these pieces better than
simply from hearing them on a
recording. And the music is so
amazing; it’s always different
textures. And while I know how
the tune [of the Fifth] goes —
bum ba ba baaa — I don’t know
it back and forth. I certainly
don’t know how it works. But I
think I know that a little better
now.
Ma: That’s actually a rock
tune. Beethoven actually stole
that from a rock musician. He
heard it and said: “Hey, this is a
really great tune. I’m going to
turn it into a classical
symphony.” [Here, Emanuel
cradles his head in his hands.]
But to Manny’s point, when we
got the score [of the Fifth] from
Colin Matthews and started
playing it, it was an experiment,
you know, and we actually
changed a number of things
with Colin’s blessing. I think
that’s a lot of how things happen
in composition. Even
Beethoven, you look at his
manuscripts and everything’s
crossed out, there are so many
things he’s editing and reediting
until something feels right. So I
think even though we’re playing
a piece of music that people
know, we’re also experimenting
with it. This is a constantly
evolving thing.
Q: The last time you did this
round of touring as a trio, it was
for Brahms. Is there anything
qualitatively or experientially
different for you about
performing the trios of Brahms
versus Beethoven?
Ax: No, they’re both impossibly
hard. I would have to tell you
piece by piece, because the
Brahms trios we play are very
different, they’re from different
parts of his life, and they’re very
different even in terms of piano
writing.
Ma: So permit me to insert
myself. You can forgive me, I
hope, for the arrogance of
ignorance because Manny
knows so much music that when
you ask him a question like that,
he doesn’t want to generalize. I,
on the other hand, being who I
am and being a cellist with a
much more limited repertoire,
I’m happy to generalize.
Q: I have a word count to stay
within. I love generalizations.
Ma: I think Brahms as a human
being and as a composer, you
get the feeling that he is a fellow
sufferer. He’s on Earth. He’s
trying his very best. He
understands life and human
nature. He struggles with it. He’s
not happy with the way things
are, but he also sees great
beauty in what could be.
Aspirationally, he’s there. But
can he take us across the
Rubicon? Can he take us to the
other side in his music? He’ll
take us to the edge and show it
to us, but he is on the side of the
sufferer. He’s not claiming to be
a god.
Beethoven, on the other hand,
he will say: “I can take you
there. If I’m your guide, I’m
going to take you to the
mountaintop. You will see the
vista from the mountaintop; you
don’t have to look at it from the
valley.” And, more often than
not, he will get you to that place.
That’s my arrogant, ignorant
stereotype. Manny, now correct
me. Because this is the moment
when he says, “No ... ”
Ax: No! That’s very inspiring.
I think it’s beautiful. I think we
should leave it at that.
Ma: Yeah. He’s being kind
today!
Ax: I really do think that’s the
secret of working together —
well, pretty much on anything,
but certainly in music — if
you’re working together and you
like each other as people, you’re
95 percent of the way.
Q: I imagine that makes it a lot
easier to serve the music.
Ma: I just serve Manny. I don’t
really like him very much. But
the only thing that I know is
that he’s right.
Yo-Yo Ma, Emanuel Ax and
Leonidas Kavakos on Monday at
the Kennedy Center,
washingtonperformingarts.org.
Q&A
At Kennedy Center, power-trio treatment for Beethoven
SHANE MCCAULEY
From left, Leonidas Kavakos, Emanuel Ax and Yo-Yo Ma, who will be performing at the Kennedy Center on Monday. They have close to a
decade of collaborative history, going back to their 2014 appearance at Tanglewood to play a program of Brahms piano trios.