Ashley McBryde has spent the last decade carving out a reputation as one of country music’s most fearless and authentic storytellers. Hailing from Arkansas, she broke through with her Grammy-nominated major label debut ‘Girl Going Nowhere,' a record that established her as a voice for the overlooked and underestimated. Since then, albums like ‘Never Will' and ‘The Devil I Know' have only deepened her standing, blending traditional country roots with rock-edged grit and unflinching lyrical honesty. A multiple CMA and ACM award winner, McBryde has built her career on truth-telling: songs that don’t shy away from addiction, heartbreak, family and resilience, delivered with a voice that feels lived-in and earned.
That same raw intimacy makes her a perfect fit for a setting like All Saints Church in Kingston upon Thames, where the weight of her storytelling can truly resonate. Whether performing solo or with a band, McBryde has a rare ability to command a room without spectacle—drawing listeners in through the sheer power of her songwriting and delivery. As new upcoming album ‘Wild' signals a new creative peak, placing her at the height of her artistic powers, moments like this—stripped back, close and deeply human—feel like the truest way to experience an artist who has always put the song first.
There are gigs that feel special before a note is even played, and then there are nights like this—where everything conspires to create something quietly extraordinary. Inside All Saints Church, a 350-capacity sanctuary of stained glass and hushed reverence, Ashley McBryde chose to unveil her forthcoming album ‘Wild' in a setting that couldn’t have been more perfectly, almost poetically, at odds with her gritty Arkansas roots.
With a single microphone on a makeshift stage beside the altar, beneath a looming circular candelabra, McBryde walked out to rapturous applause and wasted no time tearing into ‘Rattlesnake Preacher.' The song’s swampy, sinful riff echoed through the church with delicious irony, the collision of the American South and the Church of England landing squarely in the lyric “Yes, Jesus loves me,” which she delivered with a knowing glance toward the vaulted ceiling. It set the tone immediately: this would be a night where contrasts didn’t clash: they deepened the experience.
“I’ve been coming here for so many years but I still get butterflies when I land,” she admitted, before sliding into a stripped-back ‘One Night Standards.' Without the band, the song took on a different kind of weight, her voice carrying both strength and vulnerability as the audience rose to meet her in the chorus, sounding less like a crowd and more like a choir. “Some of these songs have bad words in them which I think God will find funny,” she quipped, disarming the room with ease.
The evening balanced humour, storytelling, and emotional candour in a way few artists manage. ‘Brenda Put Your Bra On,' written with Pillbox Patti, (Nicolette Hayford) brought laughter with its trailer park chaos—its setting hilariously out of place in such polite English surroundings. Moments later, she was poking fun at herself again, noting the absence of her band: “If I forget words I can’t turn around and ask, ‘Caleb!’” It made what followed, ‘Single at the Same Time,' all the more arresting. The room fell into absolute silence, every lyric hanging in the air.
McBryde understands pacing instinctively. She used that stillness to guide the audience into ‘Bottle Tells Me So,' one of the most affecting songs from ‘Wild.' Introduced as something that demands more than one listen, it unfolded as a raw admission of her struggles with alcoholism. By the end, she was visibly shaken, pausing to steady herself with deep breaths, a moment so unguarded it felt almost intrusive to witness, yet impossible to look away from.
She refused to let the weight linger too long, pivoting into the swampy groove of ‘Water in the River,' a gospel-tinged meditation on redemption that felt uncannily suited to the surroundings. ‘Lines in the Carpet' followed, its portrayal of suffocating domestic toxicity rendered with gripping intensity, proving that even in an acoustic setting, McBryde can deliver drama in spades.
There were lighter, warmer touches too. Introducing ‘Light On in the Kitchen,' she credited Lori McKenna with the advice that if you want to get to heaven, you put your mama in a song. The audience responded in kind, their voices swelling again in that now-familiar, chapel-like harmony. ‘Martha Divine' jolted the energy back up, complete with laughter when she momentarily lost her place (something she’d foreshadowed earlier) and turned it into part of the show.
But it was ‘Bible and a .44' that truly stilled the room once more. Sparse and deeply personal, it felt almost too perfect for the setting. Again, she was overcome at the end, visibly emotional, grounding the performance in something real and fragile. “I’m gonna put this tambourine on my foot now because I don’t want to leave you sad,” she said, snapping the mood back with impeccable timing before launching into the stomping ‘Arkansas Mud.'
The latter stretch of the set blurred the line between performance and communion. An unreleased track, ‘Steve!!!,' had people dancing despite its unfamiliarity, while ‘Hand Me Downs' emerged as a quiet standout. Its reflections on inherited traits and family legacy delivered with a softness that drew the audience in even closer. Then came ‘Gospel Night at the Strip Club,' from the acclaimed ‘Lindeville' album, introduced with curiosity about how it would sound in a church. The answer: transcendent. When she handed the “Jesus loves the drunkards and the whores and the queers” line over to the crowd, they responded with conviction, turning the lyric into something communal and affirming.
Even as she was signalled that time had run over, McBryde couldn’t quite bring herself to stop. Remembering she hadn’t yet played her new single, she launched into ‘What If We Don’t' to delighted cheers but she still wasn’t done. What followed was perhaps the most intimate moment of all: an unreleased song (‘For the Love of a Song') about her love of music and the long, unglamorous road she’s travelled to get here. Sitting metaphorically “cross-legged on the bedroom floor,” she laid everything bare, her voice cracking as she reached the end, just as she’d predicted it would.
If ‘Wild' already promises to be one of 2026’s defining country records, this performance felt like its quiet consecration. McBryde didn’t just play songs; she curated an experience that respected the space, the audience and the material in equal measure. It was reverent without being restrained, raw without ever feeling indulgent: a rare, beautiful balance. In a church built for worship, the congregation found something to believe in and a preacher brave enough to take us there.
Setlist: 1. Rattlesnake Preacher 2. One Night Standards 3. Brenda Put Your Bra On 4. Single at the Same Time 5. Bottle Tells Me So 6. Water in the River 7. Lines in the Carpet 8. Light on in the Kitchen 9. Martha Divine 10. Bible and a .44 11. Steve!!! 12. Hand Me Downs 13. Gospel Night at the Strip Club 14. What If We Don’t 15. The Love of a Song Date: April 30th Venue: All Saints Church, Kingston Upon Thames, London
