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Governors Ball Music Festival 2026 is just around the corner. Starting on Friday, June 5, music fans around New York City will flock to Flushing Meadows Corona Park in Queens for three days and nights of the hottest music performances in 2026.

To get ready for the music festival, Pacsun has a collection of merch and apparel to celebrate Gov Ball.

Although some of the articles are sold out with a lot of demand from fans, there are still pieces in stock for purchase. In fact, the collection is on sale for up to 50% off list prices since the music festival is only a few weeks away.

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Meanwhile, you can sign up for Pacsun’s newsletter to get free shipping on your first order. Otherwise, your order has to be over $59 for free shipping. You can even pick up your order at your local Pacsun location for free.

As for the music festival itself, Gov Ball takes place from Friday, June 5 to Sunday, June 7 in Queens, New York. The festival lineup features some of the top recording artists in hip-hop, pop, and rock, including Lorde, Stray Kids and A$AP Rocky as headliners, along with Baby Keem, KATSEYE, King Princess, The Beths, Blood Orange, Wet Leg, Major Lazer, Amyl and the Sniffers, Jane Remover, Ravyn Lenae, Clipse, Geese, Freddie Gibbs & the Alchemist, Japanese Breakfast, Holly Humberstone and others. Check out the full 2026 Governors Ball lineup here.

With prices starting at just $15.49 (regularly $30.99), the Pacsun x Gov Ball collection is now available for purchase online. Learn more about the collection and everything Pacsun has to offer below.

Want more? For more product recommendations, check out our roundups of the best Xbox deals, studio headphones and Nintendo Switch accessories.

U2 announced Tuesday (May 26) that Sulinna Ong has joined its management team as partner. 

In the newly created role, Ong will work alongside Full Stop’s Irving and Jeffrey Azoff in leading the band’s management. Ong, whose role will focus on creative and innovation, will report directly to U2’s four band members: Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr.

“What’s struck us about Sulinna is the flair, finesse and clarity she brings to both the art and the audience,” the band shared in a statement. “She understands what we’ve built and where we want to take it.”

Added Irving: “The band made the right call. Sulinna is one of the best executives in music, with a career built on judgement, taste and an instinct for where culture is now and where it’s going.”

Prior to joining Spotify, Ong worked across the music industry at record labels, in artist management, live and tech. She has been named to Billboard’s Women in Music for four years, from 2023 through 2026.

“My years at Spotify have been a significant part of my career and I leave the team there with enormous respect for what we have built,” Ong said in a statement. “U2 are one of the most important bands in the world, artistically and culturally, and have used their platform with purpose across every chapter of their career. The opportunity to work alongside them, and alongside Irving and Jeffrey, who have shaped what modern artist management is, was one I couldn’t pass up. We have ambitious plans for what’s next, and I’m ready to get to work.” 

U2 has charted 34 songs on the Hot 100, including two No. 1s with “With Or Without You” and “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” On the Billboard 200, the band has 24 entries, with eight No. 1 albums. Earlier this month, the band was filming a music video in Mexico City for its new, still unreleased, song “Street of Dreams.” As shared in a press release, the track is “from their yet-to-be announced next studio album, due for release later this year.”

Shaggy has been such an unwavering global presence in music that it’s hard to believe he’s just unveiled his first album of new, original, non-holiday music of the decade.

Lottery, which arrived on May 15 via a partnership between VP Music Group and his own Ranch Entertainment, finds the Grammy-winning dancehall legend proving he can still toast with the best of them four decades into his storied career. Shaggy began working on the 13-song set “around seven or eight years ago,” but his attention kept getting diverted to new opportunities.

At the turn of the decade, Shaggy stepped in to help straight out dancehall queen Spice’s VP Records deal, ultimately signing on to executive produce the Grammy-nominated record. Titled 10, the star-studded project also spawned “Go Down Deh,” an international smash collaboration between Spice, Shaggy and fellow Jamaican crossover sensation Sean Paul that’s collected over 103.7 million official on-demand U.S. streams, according to Luminate. By 2022, Shaggy teamed up with longtime friend and collaborator Sting for Com Fly Wid Me, another Grammy-nominated record that found the Kingston-born superstar reinterpreting the Frank Sinatra songbook in a reggae style. The following year, Shaggy tapped soca sensations like Kes, Bunji Garlin and Patrice Roberts for his genre-blending In the Mood EP.

As a natural creative, Shaggy’s endeavors extended into the theater world by 2025, when he signed on to Sting’s The Last Ship musical, joining a rebooted version of the production in a custom role for international performances in Paris, Amsterdam and Brisbane. At the close of that year, he also co-headlined a benefit concert to raise funds for recovery efforts in his home country following Hurricane Melissa.

“At some point, Chris and Randy [Chin] from VP [Records] gave me a deadline, so I had to [stop] abandoning the record,” Shaggy tells Billboard, just hours before borough president Antonio Reynoso declared May 19 “Shaggy Day” in Brooklyn. “But coming off ‘Go Down Deh,’ the building was very excited about putting out a new record, so everything fell into place.”

Boasting a star-studded lineup of collaborators, including Robin Thicke, Jeremih, Dexta Daps, Sting and Anthony Hamilton, Lottery is a convincing return to form for Shaggy. He honors his sound system roots with “Til A Mawnin,” delivers a sly sequel to “It Wasn’t Me” with “Bun (She Love Me),” and even links up with new-school talent like 450 on the infectious “We Love Di Gal Dem.” Perfectly sequenced for the pre-game, main fete and post-party wind down, Lottery is the culmination of four decades of Shaggy betting on himself — and coming out on top every time.

Below, Shaggy breaks down his new album, reflects on Flatbush’s glory days and dishes on delving further into the acting world.

What was the last song you added to the track list? Why did it make the album feel complete?

The opening track, “God Is Amazing,” was the last record added, not because I didn’t want it — it was done earlier — but because I didn’t want it on the album without the right sound. I had other singers on the hook, but the feeling was missing.

There’s a young lady named Vanessa Amarosi, whom I came across while watching her sing Annie Lennox’s part for a Eurythmics set at Night of the Proms in 2024, and she’s so dynamic. I didn’t even know she was a big singer in Australia, but I was taken by her massive voice. I got friendly with her and her manager, played her the record, and she called me back the next morning with her recording. She cut it in the bathroom of her hotel. She just went into full church mode on it, and that made the album complete.

Was it always meant to be the opening track?

No. But after Vanessa’s vocals came in, the whole team was like, “This is what you should start with.” And then [acclaimed Jamaican dub poet] Mutabaruka was on there, so it just felt like something to open it. It’s almost like praying before you go on stage.

When and how did you land on the album title?

Normally, when I’m doing an album title, I look at the tracklist and see what title fits the story of each record. I also knew I wanted it to be one word, like Boombastic. If you listen to the song “Lottery,” it’s probably the most shallow song on the album, but in the context of the title, there were ways I could spin it.

In the music business, there’s no clear-cut way to success, so it’s really like playing the lottery. It’s like gambling at this point, but I’ve always bet on myself because there was no record company when I started that was thinking of giving dancehall artists a marketing budget. There was nobody before me having that kind of success. In the early stages of my career, the label would always fight everything that I put forward.

For instance, “Mr. Boombastic” was the B-side to “In the Summertime,” which [the label felt] was a more popular record. I had done “Oh Carolina,” and there were a bunch of big records at the time using a similar beat to Chaka Demus & Pliers’ “Tease Me,” so the record company wanted me to do so as well. In hindsight, I probably should have, because I would have made money, but I was young and a creative, so Sting International and I brought them “Mr. Boombastic” instead. I was labeled as being difficult, and the compromise was making that song the B-side. And then “Mr. Boombastic” became the bigger record worldwide.

There’s a lot of Bill Withers on this album. Why was he such a major influence on this album?

When Sting and I did the 44/876 tour [in 2019], we would freestyle for soundcheck. He’d start playing different bass lines, and sometimes we’d end up on a Bill Withers song because we’re both big Bill Withers fans. When he asked me to do Sinatra songs in reggae, he taught me how to sing. I wasn’t confident enough to say that I was a singer.

He would play every note on the keyboard, so I could hear what I was supposed to be hitting. That challenged me vocally because I couldn’t hear those in-between notes normally. Dancehall is two chords, and now I was dealing with six, sometimes seven chords. Sting taught my ear how to pick up on that, and my confidence started building.

When I was doing this album, I decided to flip “Ain’t No Sunshine” into reggae as we did with the Sinatra records. I sent the demo to Sting, and he added a harmony that changed the color of the whole thing and made it so great. And when we went to clear things with [Bill Withers’] wife, she was so gracious and lovely.

Why did you tap Dexta Daps for “Dancehall Nice?”

The world has not yet seen what Dexta can really do vocally. He does things in the studio where I’m like, “Why don’t you let people hear this?” But he doesn’t want to blow up too big too quickly, and I get where he’s coming from. You get a hit record, and the leeches come. And you can tell he’s an emotional guy, so he knows his limitations and boundaries.

You’ve scored three Rhythmic Airplay hits from this album — including “Looking Lovely” (No. 32, with Robin Thicke) and “Boom Body” (No. 28, with Akon and Aidonia) — that began with “Til A Mawnin” reaching No. 35. What does that kind of longevity mean to you?

“Till A Mawnin” was a huge tribute to Henry “Junjo” Lawes, who’s arguably the main architect of dancehall. He started to have artists toast on reggae beats, and all the early Yellowman and Eek-a-Mouse records were done with live bands. It wasn’t until King Jammy came in and started to program music with Steel & Cleavy that things changed. I don’t think Junjo even knows how much of an architect he was at the time. He was just a dude that had a lot of ideas and a great ear and knew how to surround himself with great artists.

I actually got a little bit of pushback from Sting [on this song] because the hook wasn’t something he was used to. But he did it for me, because it’s me. And once he heard the final version, he knew I made the right choice putting him on the song. It was so authentic to how reggae singers do it. And it was actually Sting’s first time being on a Rhythmic [Airplay] chart, so I was proud.

Why is it important for you to continue upholding sound system culture?

I started DJing sound systems in Brooklyn, and that’s where I learned my artistry, my stage performance, how to freestyle and how to read an audience. Me and Super Cat used to be running around Flatbush all the time.

It’s crazy because Flatbush is getting so far removed from that time.

You had Starlight Ballroom, but the most gunshots used to be inside of Biltmore [Ballroom]. I remember one night I was crawling on my belly after some shots got fired, and Cat was on the ground like, “Di one time mi decide fi leave my gun, they go shoot up di place.” It was early days, bro, we were all risking our lives for dancehall.

What’s it been like stepping into the theater world?

I learned that Sting is always right — and he’d take joy in hearing that! [Laughs.] He wrote the part for me, and even though it wasn’t something I was super interested in, he convinced me to try it. It’s not something I thought I would be doing at all. But it’s amazing how, after learning my lines, doing live theatre and getting standing ovations, it’s really become second nature, and I can make it my own.

Even when I got the movie role [in Amazon MGM’s upcoming Honeymoon with Harry dramedy], I thought we weren’t going to do it because they were shooting at the same time I was doing The Last Ship in Australia. But it turned out they were shooting in Brisbane! So, I would do the play at night and film my parts for the movie in the daytime. I’m actually going back in two days to finish.

Would you want to do more movies in the future?

It all depends on how I’m feeling. I will probably have to get an acting coach to take it more seriously now that I’m in it. I also got really friendly with Kevin Costner, who gave me a lot of pointers. I had movies when Hot Shot was hot [in 2000] and roles that I turned down. I even turned down my own television show because I was doing things in dancehall that had never been done, and didn’t want anything to derail me.

Really and truly, I just had idiot management around me. I was young as hell and could’ve done both. That’s why it’s very important to have experienced people around you.

Would you want your own biopic?

Probably not. There’s this old saying: Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Maybe if I’m dead, they’ll do one; it wouldn’t matter to me after that.

Born Kenya Edwards, Girlfriend has always moved with a quiet sense of purpose. Raised in Mississippi, before relocating to Los Angeles, the R&B singer-songwriter’s journey has been shaped by two contrasting worlds, one grounded in close-knit family values and simplicity, the other defined by constant motion, ambition and creative expansion. That shift, she says, sharpened her perspective as both a person and an artist, pushing her to value experience, emotion and intention in everything she creates.

From an early age, she felt a deep connection to music — one that revealed itself fully in middle school when a classroom assignment led her to record her first song in a studio setting. What began as an academic project quickly turned into a defining moment: classmates responded with immediate excitement. Just like that, she became known as “the girl who does music” — and even as life pulled her in different directions, she always returned to it.

Now, after years of development, she reintroduces herself with her latest project Honey Water, a body of work rooted in emotional clarity, vulnerability and intentional storytelling. As she prepares to step into a wider spotlight, including joining Ella Mai on tour this summer, Girlfriend is beginning to define not just her sound, but her space within contemporary R&B, one built on intention, individuality and emotional depth.

Below, Billboard’s R&B Up and Comer for May 2026 opens up about building a world of her own, trusting her instincts and why she believes R&B is most powerful when it takes risks.

Why the name “Girlfriend”? What does that name represent to you creatively?

The name “Girlfriend” came from a few different things. For one, I’ve always loved the mystique behind certain artists. Like when H.E.R. first came out, I loved her name. I also knew I didn’t want to use my government name.

Then I started thinking about what I actually sing about. A lot of it is vulnerability, love, self-love and just taking life experiences and emotions and connecting them to music. So I started thinking about what a girlfriend is supposed to be. To me, a good girlfriend is someone you can be vulnerable with, a safe space, someone you can cry to, someone who listens to you and hears you out.

That’s what I want my music to feel like for people. I want listeners to feel like they have a safe space when they hear my music, and that’s ultimately how I landed on “Girlfriend.” I sat with the name for a while, asked people what they thought, and everyone was like, “Nah, that’s a really fire name.” So it just stuck from there.

A lot of people are discovering you now, but what’s something about your journey people don’t see behind the scenes?

I think the biggest thing people probably wouldn’t know is just how long I’ve actually been creating music. I made my first record when I was 12 years old, and I’m 26 now, so I’ve really been doing this for a long time.

People always see artists pop up and it feels like they came out of nowhere, but for me, this has been years of work and growth. So I’m super thankful that people are discovering me now, but yeah — I think that’s probably the biggest thing people wouldn’t realize.

Your debut project Honey Water feels very emotionally open and intentional. What was the emotional space you were in while making it?

I think I was healing during that time. I had a lot to say, a lot to spill, and a lot of things I had been holding in for a very long time.

Before that, I used to meditate every day, and I kind of took those meditation sessions into the studio with me. Before every session, I would sit with my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, and I wouldn’t start writing or singing until I felt like I was in a courageous enough space to approach the production.

I was very meticulous about everything because this project was really special and intentional for me.

Why was ‘Honey Water’ the right title for this chapter of your career?

I think “Honeywater” just encapsulated everything about who I am and who I was becoming at that time.

Where I’m from in the South, we call everybody “honey.” Southern hospitality is a real thing, so it’s a term of endearment. You can go into a store and somebody will say, “No problem, honey,” or “No problem, hon.” So to me, it represents sweetness.

And then water can be peaceful and tranquil, but it can also be destructive depending on how you look at it. So “Honeywater” felt like the perfect mix of my background, being from the South, being a sweet person, but also knowing when enough is enough and understanding that transformation side of myself too.

It felt like the perfect way to say everything I needed to say in just two words.

Songs like “Deep” and “Sticky Situation” feel vulnerable without oversharing. How do you decide how much of yourself to put into your music?

I’ve always had a love for language, making plays on words, using double entendres, and saying things without fully saying them because I love mystery. It’s just a habit for me.

Even on “Deep,” I’m speaking on a past situation, but you still don’t know exactly what happened. I like to leave part of it open for interpretation because if I spell everything out exactly as it is, it doesn’t leave room for people to connect to it in their own way.

So I like to give some of myself while also leaving space for mystery and interpretation. That way other people can attach their own experiences to the music too. If I ever feel like I’m saying something too plainly or predictably, I’ll usually go back and rewrite the lyric another way.

Early-2000s R&B feels like a clear inspiration in your sound, but it still feels modern. What parts of that era are you most inspired by?

What I’m most inspired by is probably 2008 to mid-2010s R&B. That was the part of my adolescence where I was growing up and experiencing the world, and art reflects life, so I was also taking in all this dope art.

I just remember back then, every single that came out would flip your world upside down — that’s what it would do for me. So a lot of the music I create, I try to keep that element of surprise. When you hear the production from that era, people were taking a lot of crazy risks, and then bringing it all together in a way that felt fresh.

There are records you can hear like two seconds of and you already know what it is. So even when I’m picking beats or choosing production and instrumentation, I want it to feel immediate.

What do you think today’s generation is craving from R&B music that maybe was missing for a while?

I think people crave dynamics right now. I think sometimes you can have a formula — and I know many of the greats have formulas — but I think it’s a balance of knowing this thing works, but also taking a risk here.

My favorite album of all time is Anti by Rihanna, and I don’t think when she dropped that I had heard anything remotely that sounded like that production. I can name a lot of other albums too, but I think it’s just people taking risks. People should take more risks because at the end of the day, it’s art, it’s literally just art.

I think people like having fun in their music. I listen to Lil Wayne a lot, too, because I love his plays on words. When you listen to him, you can tell he was in the studio just having fun. So I think it’s a balance, having fun, taking it seriously and also taking risks. When you lean too much in one direction, your music becomes one-dimensional. 

How did your collaboration with Jaymin come together?

I gotta give that one to my A&R. I think he’s connected to Jaymin’s team, and it had been something we had been speaking about for a little while.

I happened to be performing at a SoundCloud event, and he had performed as well, so it was kind of organic. We ran into each other and chopped it up, and we were like, “We should definitely collab,” and it just happened. He was in LA at the time, so I want to say that next week, we were in the studio cutting a record. It was pretty fun.

What kind of atmosphere were you trying to create with that record?

He played the record for me and I was like, “Nah, that’s fire.” As soon as I heard it, it was special.

What I liked about his writing on the record is that a lot of times with duets, you see the male longing for the female — but the way he approached it, it was more like, “I know I have something valuable, and I want to take care of myself as a man as well.”

So it kind of flipped it on its head — like, “Can you take care of me like I take care of me?” I thought that was dope, and I just tried to match the world that he was building.

What do you hope people feel after listening to “All U Need”?

I hope they feel nostalgia from the record, but I also hope they feel like it’s pushing the genre forward, something that’s very modern. And I hope it makes people think and really sit with it.

I think Jaymin’s an amazing writer, and I’m not too shabby of a writer myself — so I feel like the writing is really fire. And I think it’s a record you can just ride to and really take in.

You’re joining Ella Mai on tour this summer. What excites you most about stepping into those rooms every night?

Being able to share myself and my personality with so many people, to be able to get my music on a platform that I know people are gonna love, as soon as they hear it.

I’m just really excited to meet and connect with people, [and] hopefully give them something that remains with them.

As an opener, you have a short amount of time to win over a crowd. What do you want people to remember after your set ends?

I just want them to think, “D–n, who’s that?” And I think they will. I want them to remember how dynamic the performance was. I think that’s a big word for me. Just the same way it feels when you listen to it, I think it’ll be even better in person.

I just want them to remember how great of a show it was. It is a shorter amount of time, but I also think it’s perfect because it’s a taste, and I think it’ll pique people’s interest.

What’s one thing you’ve learned about yourself through performing live?

Performing is all about how you view yourself. If you view yourself as an amazing performer and you really commit to the experience, feel what you’re singing, and allow yourself to be lost in the music, then I think you’re going to be an amazing performer. And if you don’t, then I think the performance won’t come off as authentic as it should.

Performing is about other people, but it’s also about performing for you, and remembering that you wrote this music for a reason. Whatever emotions I felt when I wrote it, this was my therapy, so I’m just revisiting those emotions.

It’s kind of like acting. When you act, you have to fully step into that role and exhibit that emotion. So when I perform, I’ve learned you have to be in the song. The more in the record I am, the better I even sing.

How do you protect your individuality in an era where artists are constantly pressured to chase trends?

If you chase trends, you’re already too late to them, and you’ll never carve anything [out] for yourself. If you chase every trend, you could be at the top of every trend, but you’re just gonna be known as a trendy person.

in terms of being an artist and creating new music, I don’t think you should give that too much energy. Because you can be the person setting the trends, or you can be the person that is always following.

I don’t know which one of that will lead to more longevity. But I mean, if you love chasing trends, that’s you. It’s all about what impact you wanna leave on the world.

What do you think separates Girlfriend from everybody else in R&B right now?

Definitely my writing. I consider myself a lyricist, and lyricism is something you see heavily in rap and hip-hop, which is something that inspired me a lot. I play with words and use a lot of double meanings in my writing.

I also think I’m just as good of a rapper as I am a singer, and that’s something that sets me apart too. Beyond that, I engineer, produce, play multiple instruments on tracks, and work as an executive producer as well.

So, I think being an all-around artist, somebody who can contribute to every part of the process and write across different genres, is what really separates me. It’s still early right now, but I think over time people will really be able to see that.

Is there a misconception people have about you based on your music?

I think the biggest misconception I’ve gotten is that some people think I don’t necessarily have a sound. Some people feel like, “Oh, you should do one sound and stick to that,” or they’ll say they can’t fully digest what I’m doing, because I’m not staying in one lane.

But for me, that’s a misconception. Because I’ve always looked up to true artists — people who create from emotion. I think when you’re really an artist, you have to understand that some people are purists when it comes to their art, and they’re not creating from formulas, they’re creating from feeling. Those are usually the people who continue pushing things forward.

So when people think I don’t have a sound or think I’m not being intentional with what I’m doing, that’s probably the biggest misconception. Everything I do is intentional. I just think some things take time for people to fully understand, and that’s okay.

I also don’t think anybody who comes in and is instantly accepted by everybody is necessarily creating something that challenges people or makes them think critically. Sometimes creating conversations or even being a little polarizing can be a good thing.

What’s the most toxic lyric you’ve ever written, and did it make the final cut?

Probably when I said, “I was high as f–k when your mama called and said, ‘Don’t break it off.’ So I hit my blunt and responded, ‘I’m not toxic like your son.’”

That’s from “Emergency.”

If someone wanted to understand Girlfriend in five songs, not just your music, but songs by any artist, what songs are you choosing?

I would say probably “Father Time,” “Higher” — those are two of my records. Then “When I Think of You” by Janet Jackson, “Mind Control” by Stephen Marley, and “Poetic Justice” by Drake and Kendrick Lamar.

What’s one early 2000s R&B album you think every young artist should study?

 Confessions by Usher.

If somebody is hearing Girlfriend for the first time today, what song should they start with first and why?

If they were hearing me for the first time today, I think they should listen to “OG” because it shows my range and my ability to approach music in a way that feels really unique.

I haven’t heard too many R&B singers approach a record like that, so I think it would just make people curious, like, “Let me really figure out what this person is doing.”

What’s a green flag in relationships that people don’t talk about enough?

I’ma say empathy… People always say loyalty, but I feel like empathy covers everything. If a person has empathy, even when they’re upset or pissed off, they’ll still stop and think, “Dang, let me put myself in this person’s shoes…” And because of that, they might choose not to do something because they know how it would make them feel if it happened to them.

When people look back at this era of your career, what do you hope they say about you?

I hope they’re like, “Dang, she was making so much good music, even early on.” I want them to revisit my music in the beginning and let it really have its moment again. I think it will.

What’s the biggest thing you’re manifesting for yourself right now?

The biggest thing I’m manifesting for myself is continued happiness, peace, and purpose. 

When boxer George Foreman claimed the world heavyweight title with a 10th-round knockout of Michael Moorer in November 1994, Stephen Wilson Jr. took note.

Foreman was just five days short of age 46, and Moorer was 20 years his younger in a sport where 30 is deemed “old.” Wilson Jr., 15 at the time, never forgot his dad’s reaction.

“You would have needed a shovel to have scraped his jaw off the floor because he couldn’t believe that a 46-year-old man just became the heavyweight champion of the world,” Wilson Jr. says. “That was probably one of the most impactful events I ever watched in my life. I watched a human defy the odds.”

Wilson Jr., now 46, is defying the odds as well. He won his first Academy of Country Music award when the rough-edged “Cuckoo” claimed video of the year on May 6. His solo performance of “Stand by Me” was one of the highlights of the Country Music Awards last November, and he has a slot on the satellite stage at Nissan Stadium during CMA Fest on June 7. Plus, his quirky “Gary” ranks No. 37 on Billboard’s Country Airplay chart dated May 30.

Wilson Jr., speaking with Billboard Country Update before headlining the Nashville Chapter of the Recording Academy’s annual Block Party May 12, was amused that his pursuit of an artist’s life in his mid-40s is unusual.

Time “only exists because we collectively choose to believe it exists,” he says, presumably drawing on theories from quantum mechanics. “The second we choose to believe it doesn’t exist is the second it becomes non-existent. And so I always had a weird little issue with time.”

If he didn’t know it before, Wilson Jr. became acutely aware that his view of our chronological existence is different once he became a songwriter. After boxing in his Indiana youth, he spent several years as a guitarist in the indie rock band AutoVaughn. He earned a degree in microbiology and chemistry at Middle Tennessee State University in Murfreesboro, Tenn., then worked in research and development for Mars, Inc., but pulled away from the corporate world to become a songwriter in his late-30s. The age thing raised its head at that time, mostly because others had their own weird little issue with time.

“I remember artists being, like, 27 in the writing room with me, and being worried that they were becoming too old,” he says. “They would express their woes to me, like, ‘Oh, I’m getting close to 30 here.’ I’m 37 [at the time], I just quit [my job], I’m just starting my [writing] career. It’s a little awkward, but I don’t tell them that. I just kind of sit there in the room and let them express their grievances.”

Wilson Jr. didn’t plan to go beyond writing songs at that point in his career, but he didn’t plan on the emotional journey that accompanied his father’s death, either. That life passage occurred when he was 39, and it spurred a new phase in his life.

“When my dad died, I died with him,” he says. “Everything that I was — and thought I was — died. And with that came a birth.”

The new Stephen Wilson Jr. was driven to write about the guy that raised him, and he ultimately created a double album, søn of dad, for his first full-sized package with Big Loud. The album is thematically deep, sonically heavy and way beyond anything a run-of-the-mill 27-year-old would dream up in country music. It’s part of what’s appealing about his emergence at this point in his time-defying term on Earth. His rise comes at a creatively ideal time.

“I have more to say at my age now than I did 20 years ago, and I’m a different person than I was 20 years ago,” he says. “I’m not sure if I’d want to hear an album written by me 20 years ago.”

He’s not the first country artist to come of age in the marketplace a few decades after most people come of age. Willie Nelson, one of Wilson Jr.’s icons, was 42 when “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” brought him into his commercial sweet spot. K.T. Oslin was 45 when “80’s Ladies” introduced her sly, award-winning voice of experience. Early Grand Ole Opry star Uncle Dave Macon was past 50 when he made his first recordings and debuted on the WSM-AM Nashville show.

One of the benefits that accompanies an artist’s rise in their 40s or beyond is a sense of self that makes them easy to manage.

“Everything is very intentional — what he records, how he records it, the hat that he wears, the style, the clothes that he wears, the guitar that he plays, the sound that that makes, and I just try to stay out of the way,” says his manager, ALJ MGMT owner Alicia Jones. “He knows what he wants to do, and we’re just there as managers to protect it — and not mold it or manufacture it — just to clear obstacles out of the way and support him.”

His grainy vocal style and intense songs caught her attention immediately when she first heard him in 2021; after just a verse and a chorus, she wanted to work with him.

“I met him, and he was so fascinating,” she says. “He’s so smart, you know, and then I got to see him play, and I had absolutely no clue how old he was. Nor did I care.”

His performances don’t necessarily give that away either. His CMA appearance, in which he captivated an entire arena with just his voice and guitar while reinventing “Stand by Me,” displayed a raw urgency. His set at the Recording Academy Block Party was raucous, and he physically owned the stage like a 20-something.

Life as an artist is far more taxing than most fans likely realize. The long hours of travel can lead to dehydration, jet lag, tight muscles and circulation issues. The actual performance, which is only a small part of the day, requires focus, deep breathing and a show of energy — even when the act has little in the tank.

Wilson Jr. still uses boxing exercises to stay in shape for the road. And, of course, neither the concerts nor the lifestyle around it are nearly as depleting — or painful — as going head-to-head with another fighter was when he was pursuing boxing. He’s following a path that few — outside the likes of George Foreman or Willie Nelson — have forged. And he doesn’t intend to turn back.

“I’ve been training for this for a long time,” he says. “I didn’t realize it — like, I’ve always been training hard for something, and now I know what it is. It just took a long time to figure it out.”