Chase Rice’s career has been marked by transformation, from his early days as a staple of the bro-country wave to his recent emergence as one of Nashville’s most introspective and authentic voices. Once best known for party anthems and tailgate singalongs, Rice has spent the past several years redefining his artistic identity, moving away from surface-level stereotypes toward a richer, more personal storytelling tradition. Albums like ‘The Album, Part I & II' and especially ‘I Hate Cowboys & All Dogs Go to Hell' signalled a turning point, with Rice leaning into raw, unvarnished lyrics and stripped-back production that highlighted vulnerability over bravado. That shift not only broadened his artistic reach but also won over critics and fans who had once dismissed him as a product of Nashville’s assembly line.
With his new record ‘Eldora,' teased by the poignant new single ‘Circa 1943,' Rice seems poised to cement his reinvention and complete the organic trilogy of album releases. No longer content to play the role of a genre lightweight, Rice is now carving out space as a craftsman—an artist willing to risk commercial formulas for music that resonates with emotional depth. If the early signs are any indication, ‘Eldora' could stand as the project that completes Chase Rice’s journey from hitmaker to true storyteller.
From the opening moments of ‘Cowboy Goodbye,' it’s clear that this is not a record built on stadium-ready anthems, but on fireside confessions. Backed only by acoustic guitar, Rice sings with a weary richness about the sacrifices of a touring singer, comparing his departures to a cowboy riding off alone. The coda—his lover’s final goodbye—lands like a quiet dagger, signalling that this album will not shy away from emotional risk. It is Rice at his most unguarded, a thread that ties together much of ‘Eldora.'
That intimacy is matched with variety, as Rice uses collaboration and production choices to broaden the scope of his storytelling. ‘Tall Grass,' with Kashus Culpepper, trades in questions of truth and freedom over funky, slinking guitars and mantra-like repetition: ‘Do you believe everything you see on TV?' they ask at one point and the track’s atmospheric distortion and laid-back groove expand Rice’s palette, making it a southern rocker with teeth.
The title track ‘Eldora' might be the record’s beating heart, evoking the dusty romance of the road with hazy guitars and an understated vocal. “Got almost everything I need in this packed up Eldorado and I’ll be seeing you tonight,” Rice sings, conjuring the long drive toward peace and refuge. It’s evocative and cinematic, as though listeners are riding shotgun with him across mountain passes. That sense of place carries over to ‘Two Tone Steppin’,' a barroom shuffle with Wyatt McCubbin that barrels forward like a Dwight Yoakam classic. Less about story and narrative, this track leans more into rhythm, cadence and swing—an album breather that reminds you Rice can still get a room moving when he needs too.
Perhaps the most surprising narrative turn comes in ‘Mr Coors,' a clever story-song tracing an immigrant’s journey to Denver in the 1860s and the founding of the Coors brewery. With mournful fiddle and western flair, Rice manages to transform a beer tribute into a thoughtful slice of history. “What the hell would we drink today if he hadn’t paved his way? Here’s to Rocky Mountain water!” he toasts, balancing reverence with wit. But the levity is short-lived, because next comes the album’s emotional centerpiece: ‘Circa 1943.'
‘Circa 1943' is the gut punch of ‘Eldora,' a wartime ballad of love and loss that could have been lifted from the great American songbook. Inspired by his grandparents’ names but not their story, Rice crafts a narrative of a soldier and nurse bound by fate, heartbreak, and legacy. The soldier is killed before he knows he’s left a child behind; the nurse eventually finds her way to Superior, Montana, carrying grief and hope in equal measure. Musically, the song rises to match its narrative sweep—dark western strums, fiddle accents and Rice’s most impassioned vocal performance to date. It’s a song that lingers and one that all but confirms Rice has crossed into new artistic territory.
Even in the album’s love songs, Rice resists cliché. ‘Country and Western,' featuring Madeline Edwards, is a blues-soaked, sultry duet built on whispered vocals and smoky guitar. “You show me Texas and I’ll show you Wyoming,” Rice teases, before the chorus unfurls into its lusty refrain: “You show me Country and I’ll show you Western.” The track simmers, building to a ghostly climax underscored by a whippoorwill’s cry. Similarly, ‘Namin’ Horses' is dripping in campfire restraint, a wistful ballad about building a life and home. Rice paints with gentle strokes—porches, dogs, sunsets—while delivering one of the album’s most tender declarations.
In contrast, ‘Cottonmouth' lightens the mood again like ‘Two Tone Steppin' before it. A jaunty, self-deprecating tale of youthful innocence and first brushes with weed. It’s a wink in the middle of an otherwise weighty record, proof that Rice knows how to balance the shadows with light.
The reflective tone returns on ‘Good Side of Gettin’ Older,' where strummed guitars and banjo frame Rice’s acknowledgment of growth: “Life has got me writing different songs.” It’s a statement of purpose as much as a lyric, the sound of an artist embracing maturity while keeping joy intact. ‘One Drink Long' carries that timeless spirit even further, its 1960s acoustic melody and female harmonies spinning a tale of late-night connection with vintage charm. It’s the kind of track that could have existed decades ago, yet feels utterly at home in Rice’s new world. A very modern booty call song executed with timeless panache.
The closing ‘Sunsettin’ ties the record together, circling back to the campfire intimacy that opened it. Acoustic strums, mournful fiddle, and Rice’s bare vocal set the stage for a meditation on loneliness and longing: “My heart’s an empty chamber,” he admits, searching for love and meaning at either end of the day. As the fiddle solo swells and the drums enter, the album fades not with a bang but with a sigh, like embers glowing in the dark. It is a fitting close to a record that privileges honesty over gloss, and reflection over bravado.
With ‘Eldora,' Chase Rice has solidified the reinvention of himself as an artist and completed a trilogy of albums that should leave no-one in any doubt of what he is capable of as both an artist and a writer. The songs are campfire-quiet or barroom-loud, but all are bound by a commitment to depth, detail, and truth. From the devastating sweep of ‘Circa 1943' to the humble warmth of ‘Namin’ Horses,' this is an album that reveals Rice as a craftsman intent on telling stories that matter. It may surprise those who once dismissed him, but for anyone willing to sit by the fire and listen, ‘Eldora' is Chase Rice’s most compelling chapter yet.
Track list: 1. Cowboy Goodbye 2. Tall Grass 3. Naming Horses 4. Eldora 5. Two Tone Trippin' 6. Mr Coors 7. Circa 1943 8. Country & Western 9. Cottonmouth 10. Good Side of Gettin'Older 11. One Drink Long 12. Sunsettin' Release Date: 19th September Record Label: Independent Buy ‘Eldora' right here
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