Morgan Wallen’s new album is stubbornly long. Live with it
We all have our bad days. Morgan Wallen’s just get more publicity. Like in late March when he abruptly walked off the set of “Saturday Night Live,” made haste to his private jet and posted from the tarmac to social media, “Get me to God’s country.” Or that fateful night last year in downtown Nashville where Wallen got so sozzled he started chucking patio furniture off a rooftop bar. Are these the true spoils of fame? An entitlement to the tantrums that the rest of us, perpetually mired in our plebeian frustration and fatigue, can only dream about?
