Cory
"They said Nashville had the answers. Turns out, Texas has better BBQ and George Strait."
After nearly three decades on the road, veteran Texas Red Dirt mainstay Cory Morrow is poised to release his most vulnerable and unflinching record to date. “The Letting Go” is a collection of songs that offers an intimate glimpse into the life of the seasoned songwriter.
It features compositions reminiscent of the early days – “That Song” and “Cocaine & Jesus” – alongside grown-up philosophical musings – “Every Moment” and “The Stuff”. Like a Cory Morrow live show, the album gracefully meanders from deep introspection to spontaneous dance, tongue-in-cheek to life altering truth, heart piercing ballad to tambourine shaking rock-n-roll. It’s Morrow at his best – the ringleader of an unpredictable circus calling willing listeners to the front of the stage.
Amidst the diverse collection of tunes there is an undercurrent best understood through the lyrics of the title track. And while the truth embodied in “The Letting Go” has universal application, it seems very specific to Morrow. As evidenced in his discography – and in some cases, the news – Cory has navigated his way from frat boy to family man, addiction to sobriety, and from believing in himself to believing in something much larger. “The Letting Go”, cowritten with Dalton Domino, captures the desperation, fear, and exhilaration of taking a leap into the great unknown and finding the next version of yourself, something Morrow continues to do in his personal and professional life.
Perhaps the most touching sentiment of the project is found in the one outside cut on the record, written by long-time collaborator, producer, and dear friend to Cory, Keith Gattis, who passed away in April of 2023. The inclusion of “Big Hat”, alongside “That Song” – the last cowrite for the two – serves as a fitting memorial to the music they created and time spent together on their musical journey. It stands as a reminder that music can carry both loss and legacy in the same breath.
20 Questions with Cory Morrow
“This is a hard one. There are older songs — Townes Van Zandt, Merle Haggard — and some newer stuff too. ‘I Am Yours’ and ‘Garden’ by Needtobreathe, and ‘Tears of Joy’ by Phil Wickham. Those all hit me deep.”
“I think it was Johnny High’s Country Music Review. I played with a bunch of strangers and was absolutely petrified. I closed my eyes and didn’t open them again until the song was over. When I finally looked up, everyone was clapping.
The moment I heard my song come to life with a full band — the hair stood up all over my body. That’s when I knew I wanted to do this for the rest of my life.”
“Well, there’s Terry Boothe. He’s probably the most ‘Texas’ person I’ve ever met — a true Texas history buff. He lives and breathes the stuff.”
“Double meat, double cheese, with bacon, fries, and a large chocolate shake.”
“UT, A&M, Texas Tech, Texans, Cowboys, Astros, Rangers, Rockets, Mavericks, Spurs… basically every Texas team.”
“Kris Kristofferson, Merle Haggard, Townes Van Zandt, Jimi Hendrix, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Freddie Mercury.”
“‘Not a day goes by that you don’t put on your cape. I bet Superman looks up to you.’”
“At the moment? Maybe ten — close to that anyway. Lifetime? Somewhere around twenty to twenty-five. I like to keep them out on the wall, not locked up in cases.”
“Brandon Anthony once told me something about in-ear monitors that stuck: ‘Be okay with what you’ve got. Work with what you have. Don’t spend the whole show trying to manipulate it — figure out how to make it work and trust that the sound guy will make you sound amazing. You can work past what you’re hearing. Just go have fun.’”
“I probably would’ve been an English teacher and a coach. At this point though, I’d want to do something with cars — be a dealer, restore them, have a shop where people can hang out and buy cool rides. I love cars, so definitely something in the automotive world.”
“Tomball, Texas — Main Street Crossing. I feel like I can just walk around in my underwear there. Anywhere around Houston, really. Dosey Doe’s another one. I used to love playing the Redneck Country Club in Houston too.”
“Paul. He was literally killing Christians until he was blinded by the light. That moment transformed him completely — he became the leader of the group he once persecuted, and ended up writing much of the New Testament. And he died for it. Not many people would give their life for that ending.”
“They tried to arrest me in Bandera. I’d gotten a speeding ticket about six months earlier and never dealt with it, so there was a warrant. The cops found out I was playing there and planned to arrest me mid-show — apparently to make the paper the next day.
One of their wives, who was a fan, told my tour manager. He warned me before the last song, then found a fan from San Antonio who drove me out of town. They stopped me as I walked out of the venue, but they didn’t think it was actually me, so they let me go. I walked off feeling weirdly proud — like, ‘Dang, I must really be somebody.’”
“Walkin’ on Sunshine, Fly Me to the Moon, Adios Mexico by the Texas Tornados, Sweet Escape.”
“Late ’60s, early ’70s. When Willie moved back to Texas, started doing the Fourth of July picnics — the whole scene with Willie, Waylon, Merle, Kristofferson. They were all in Austin. That time would’ve been amazing.”
“Matthew McConaughey. Come on. Or maybe Owen Wilson.”
“Playing the Astrodome with Tim McGraw — he looked over and said, ‘Smile, boy.’ Meeting and hanging out with Kris Kristofferson. Sitting on Willie’s bus. Or the time I stepped onto Bret Michaels’ bus and he was listening to Nashville Blues. He told me he thought it was the best country song ever written. Moments like that… unreal.”
“Hopeful for something more. Filled with a love they can’t quite explain — the kind that points them to Christ.”