Looking at the raw transcripts from our conversation with Dierks Bentley in mid-2022 is like opening a time capsule. The world was just getting its legs back. The concert industry was roaring to life with a vengeance and Bentley was right at the tip of the spear armed with a perfectly timed post-pandemic anthem “Beers On Me.” It was a song that wasn't just a song but a mission statement for a summer desperate for release.
But the track was more than just a simple party starter. It was a calculated and clever piece of collaborative country music, a signpost of where the genre was headed. He didn't write it alone in a vacuum. He built it with the new guard. “I wrote the song back during the pandemic,” Bentley says, a time when he was hunkered down in Colorado. “And I just feel like I love the title. I love the idea of just telling your fans ‘hey, the beer’s on me’ and after all they’ve been through.”
That sentiment was the easy part. The execution was what made it a hit. He brought in HARDY, a songwriter who had become a star in his own right by weaponizing razor-sharp lyrical hooks. Then came the curveball. “I was reading an article about this guy named BRELAND and I ended up just kinda feeling the need to call him and meet him,” Bentley recalls. “He came in and sang the third verse, wrote the third verse. It’s kind of an organic way that it all worked out.” Organic maybe, but also strategically brilliant. It tethered a veteran star to two of the genre’s most vital new voices, bridging the gap between established radio dominance and TikTok-era virality.
That tour was slated to hit London Ontario for Rock the Park, a festival stop that felt more like a victory lap. The lineup itself was a testament to Nashville's depth. When asked about sharing the bill with the formidable Ashley McBryde, Bentley’s respect is immediate. “To have her going on stage before us is, it’s almost unfair because she just puts on such a great show,” he admits. “The crowd will be super fired up.” It’s a candid acknowledgment from a headliner that his opening act is a genuine monster on stage, a peer who brings serious artistic weight.
The writing process itself, which took place in January 2021, was a classic Nashville hit-making summit. “Hardy is a big artist in the States,” Bentley notes. “Luke Dick’s a great songwriter. Ashley Gorley and Ross Copperman. So, the five of us all wrote together. We wrote about 15 songs over the course of four days, and this was one of them.” This is the modern Nashville machine at its most efficient. It’s not a lone troubadour with a guitar but a brain trust of A-list talent converging to build an arsenal of hits.
This efficiency marks a significant evolution in Bentley’s own creative philosophy. He came up as a writer-artist, a guy whose identity was fused with the songs he penned. But the game has changed, and so has he. “Earlier in my career, it was so important. I wrote every song and every album, and that’s just the way I did it,” he reflects. “Then about halfway through my career, I realized that it’s really hard to tour nonstop, have a family, and also be a great songwriter all the time.”
And here is the pragmatism of a survivor, a man who understands the brutal demands of staying relevant for two decades. The auteur complex has been replaced by a simple mantra: the best song wins. “I don’t even really think about it anymore. Just whatever the best song is, whether I wrote it or I found it, I don’t care what it is,” Bentley states plainly. “Songs are like bricks trying to build a house, and I just want the best bricks I can find.” It’s a killer analogy and a necessary concession for a star of his calibre.
Songs are like bricks trying to build a house, and I just want the best bricks I can find quality wise to make the best house I can make.
His collaboration with Elle King on “Worth a Shot” is the perfect case study for this new approach. It’s a track penned by the legendary Shane McAnally that Bentley himself had considered. “I’d actually put my voice on it once just to see how it fit for me,” he explains. “I knew it was a hit, but I just feel like it wasn’t a hit for me.” Instead of letting it die on a hard drive, he watched his friend Elle King grab it and was thrilled when she asked him to join her. It was a win-win. He got to be on a hit without it having to carry the weight of his own album's direction.
Their chemistry is undeniable, a fact cemented by their previous Grammy-nominated smash “Different for Girls.” Bentley credits that song's success to its unique premise. “A lot of country songs kind of beat down the same path and ‘Different for Girls’ is such a different lyrical idea,” he says. Pairing that sharp McAnally lyric with King, who at the time was an outsider to the Nashville system, gave it an edge that cut through the noise. It was a crossover move before that became the genre’s primary business model.
The accompanying video for “Worth a Shot” leans hard into Old West cosplay, a fantasy Bentley admits is close to his heart. “I think every country singer thinks he or she could easily jump into a western movie and play the part,” he laughs. “We just all feel affinity for cowboys and that lifestyle, outlaw lifestyle.” It’s a core part of the country music brand and a role he and King play with infectious joy.
When the conversation pivots to a more formal honour, the Music City Walk of Fame, Bentley is gracious but refreshingly grounded. The star on the pavement is nice, especially for his family to see. But the real validation happens every night on the road. “It’s more important to me than anything else is just seeing fans show up at shows,” he insists. “For a fan to choose to come to your show on that particular night and spend that kind of money to be there, that is bigger than any Grammy or Walk of Fame star.” In an era of skyrocketing ticket prices and inflation, that sentiment hits harder than ever.
Bentley also offered a glimpse into the studio where he was putting the finishing touches on his next full-length project. He’s always been involved in production but this time he took a more official role alongside a trusted team including Ross Copperman, F. Reid Shippen, and Jon Randall. His description of Randall’s contribution is particularly insightful. “He can verbalize what he’s thinking better than I can in musical terms; we’re usually thinking the same thing,” Bentley says. “He’s just a great person to have in the studio.” It’s the mark of a smart leader, knowing your weaknesses and surrounding yourself with people who fill the gaps.
At the time he was cagey about the album’s release, hinting it would be “either in October or February.” Looking back, we know he was deep in the final mixes for what would become 2023’s excellent Gravel & Gold, an album that masterfully balanced his commercial and creative instincts. This interview catches him right in that crucial final stretch.
But no conversation with Bentley would be complete without hockey. His obsession is real and a core part of his public persona. He was losing sleep over the Stanley Cup playoffs, specifically the epic Battle of Alberta. “I’m obsessed with the Battle of Alberta,” he enthuses. “I mean, just to see the Flames playing the Oilers. It’s so, this is the cup for me.”
His passion for the game culminated in a surreal moment when the actual Stanley Cup trophy appeared in his kitchen, a surprise for his hockey-loving son Knox. “I just got a call from my manager saying ‘hey, the cup’s in town. They want to stop by your house.’ And I was like, okay, I’ll believe it when I see it,” he recounts. “There it was in the kitchen.” It’s a wild story that humanizes him completely. He’s just another hockey dad who happens to have a direct line to Lord Stanley’s hardware.
He even confesses to a past transgression with the iconic trophy. “I was playing a show in Chicago in 2016 when the Blackhawks won and they brought the cup out of my show,” he says with a hint of mischief. “And I may have picked it up over my head and ran it down into the thrust. It’s kind of illegal, but I’d had a few beers.” It’s a perfect Dierks Bentley moment: a little bit of reverence, a little bit of rule-breaking, and a whole lot of fun.
Ultimately, this conversation from the archives captures a modern country veteran in full stride. He’s a savvy collaborator, a pragmatic artist, and a dedicated family man who still geeks out over a good hockey game. He understands the business of making hits but hasn’t lost the fan’s heart. A rare balance in any era.
519 Magazine Archive: We are thrilled to officially unearth the 519 Magazine Digital Vault. This isn't just a re-post; it's a high-fidelity restoration of a pivotal era in music journalism. By pairing original print dates with modern retrospectives, we’re bridging the gap between historical rock-and-roll grit and the lightning-fast performance of today’s web. These stories—once locked in physical print and lost URLs—are now back, fully searchable, and optimized for a new generation of fans.
We are thrilled to officially unearth the 519 Magazine Digital Vault. This isn't just a re-post; it's a high-fidelity restoration of a pivotal era in music journalism. By pairing original print dates with modern retrospectives, we're bridging the gap between historical rock-and-roll grit and the lightning-fast performance of today's web. These stories—once locked in physical print and lost URLs—are now back, fully searchable, and optimized for a new generation of fans.
