Orville Peck’s iconic mask has been getting shorter since his 2019 debut Pony. Most people don’t know that he credits the mask with saving his life, helping him flourish as an artist and break away from the resistant-yet-constraining rules of punk rock that raised him.
We had the chance to speak with Mr. Peck about his year of growth, the intention and creativity behind his new album Mule, his sobriety journey, and why cowboys are so sexy.
Mule is an eclectic musical account of a wild year filled with partying, pain, and ultimately reinvention. It’s a vulnerable open diary, that feels scary to release into the world, even for a boundary breaking artist and pillar of queer pop. Sometimes what scares us can be a teacher. After many years of internal chaos, Orville finally feels like he’s come home to himself. Mule is inviting us in, too.
Playgirl • September 2026.
I love how you use horses as allegories about your life. Why were you drawn to mules for this album?
The themes on Mule explore the side of me that everyone saw during the time [that inspired] this album. During the Bronco era I was rising in my success and touring, amazing things were happening, while the private side of me was crumbling and disintegrating into crisis.
A mule is a mix between a horse and a donkey; they’re on neither side, kind of stuck between two worlds trying to figure out which one they are. That spoke to me. When I was struggling so hard and so deep in my addiction, I was completely overworked and stubborn in my ways, like a mule. Also, the affiliation with drugs and mules. And visually mules and donkeys feel bluegrass to me.
Hat: Stetson • Vest: Ricky Jeans • Chaps: Soft Daddy • Leather Boots: Mezcalero X Seco.
Can you talk about how bluegrass shows up on Mule?
Obviously, it’s not a traditional bluegrass album, it’s my version of it. I got this amazing trio together with Molly Tuttle, one of the most amazing guitar and banjo players around. I wanted the bluegrass trio to act as a Greek chorus that comes in and out throughout the album in this theatrical way, where every time you hear them, it’s indicative of my healing and where I’m at with my journey. In the beginning of the album, you only hear it in certain parts, but they come up in very specific moments. As the album goes on, you hear them more because they’re sort of cheering me on.
Hat: Stetson • Vest: Ricky Jeans • Chaps: Soft Daddy • Leather Boots: Mezcalero X Seco.
Speaking of Greek mythology, Mule feels like an epic tale. What story is being told?
Every song is a timeline of the year that I got sober. Not just lyrically; I wanted each song to represent different stages sonically too. The album opens with an Appalachian funeral hymn that I wrote for three amazing ladies Emmy Lou Harris, Noah Cyrus, and Allison Russell. Early in the album are the more carefree and rocking songs because I was in full chaos mode at the beginning of the year when I was still deep in my addiction and thinking everything was all good. “Already Gone” and “Ring the Bell” feel happy and boisterous because that was my full chaotic denial era. As I get more into the darkness and closer to my rock bottom, there’s somber ballads. Strings come in, more like lonesome classic country. As I start to get clarity, I find not only more references to my alternative, indie, and bluegrass inspirations, but it also becomes more classic “my” sound as the album goes on, because I’m coming back to myself.
Hat: Stetson • Vest: Ricky Jeans • Chaps: Soft Daddy • Leather Boots: Mezcalero X Seco.
That’s beautiful. It makes sense that you were thinking of “Prologue” as a funeral hymn because this album feels like a rebirth.
Definitely. I always try to be vulnerable, but with Mule I tried to be as blatant as I could about what I was going through and not present that in metaphors or poetry. I usually leave it up for interpretation, but this time I wanted to call it what it is. That felt like a rebirth and a freeing and something I’m still gearing myself up to have the courage to present to the world because it’s a bit scary feeling. I have a lyric in “Mule” where I say “it may seem like I changed, but it’s not change. I think it’s more like coming home.” That line makes me emotional because what I realized about sobriety and recovery, it wasn’t about changing or fixing myself. It was about clearing out everything to be more of who I have always been. So it feels like a rebirth in some ways, but it feels more like coming home to myself in the same way that sobriety has felt too.
Hat: Stetson • Shirt: Ely Cattleman • Jean Shorts: Wrangler • Belt: Vintage.
Everyone grapples with challenges in different ways, and lots of people cope in ways that are socially acceptable but maybe get in the way of our own healing.
We all do and that’s the thing. There are two different faces we all wear. Please excuse the ironic pun about me wearing a mask, but that’s part of the human experience. There’s the side of us everyone sees, and we allow everyone to see to some extent, which is curated or edited or held back, as it probably should be. But I think that there is a dark struggle for all of us, no matter what that is, and no matter how obvious or how big or how terrible, it’s all relative.
Boots: Vintage.
Do you have a favorite song on the album?
It changes. I put such care into each song because I wanted them all to be right. It took me so many tries. I must have written 60 songs to try and get each one perfect to represent the point in the timeline. I really like a song called “The Breeze, The Grass, the Morning Dove, and Me.” It’s later in the album when I’ve started to get my shit together and admit to myself that I needed a serious routine of self-care. That meant taking care of myself but also being grateful and responsible for the people in my life who are my support group, people I think I neglected during the selfishness of my addiction.
That song is the most bluegrass on the album because I’m finally in full swing of remembering who I am and that feeling that you get when you finally feel comfortable with yourself. You remember who you are, the things that make you feel good, and you want those things for the people in your life as well. There’s an excitement and impatience of wanting to get things on track, especially after going through a period of being unhappy. The way that song feels —it’s a bluegrass shuffle, it’s really fast and impatient, the beats on top of itself. It really represents how excited I felt when I finally got my life together. I was truly happy and grateful for everything. Still when I listen to it, it makes me remember that.
Hat: Stetson.
I love that a shuffle is part of a story telling arc on Mule. Does your background as a drummer inform your songwriting?
Oh my God, fully! Rhythm and tempo are crucial parts of storytelling. If something is a few BPMs off it makes a complete difference. My amazing drummer Kris Bowering and I figure out what the beats are, how fast, how slightly behind, or how slightly on top of the rhythm they need to be, because all of those things evoke something within us. “The Breeze, the Grass the Morning Dove, and Me” is a perfect example. The drums are slightly ahead of everything; that’s hard to do as a drummer. You have to focus on not being in the pocket but being on top of it. That small change evokes a different reaction in the listener, whether they realize it or not. It gives that sense of excitement and impatience to get things going. Oftentimes I’ve been opposed to playing to click because you lose a bit of soul when something sounds too perfect. Through a queer lens, we know that more than anything. Most people’s queer experience is anything but perfect, I think a lot of life comes from that.
Hat: Stetson.
Are there any lessons that your past taught you that you’re carrying into this new chapter?
The best secret favor I did for myself unknowingly was putting the mask on. It was at a time when my focus was just to make art. I didn’t think anybody would listen to it. In my mind, it was artistic and added a mysterious element to my music. Little did I know that this very young part of me knew I had to do that to get to the place I’m at today. Giving myself a little bit of armor allowed me to write as vulnerably as I do, especially now on this album where I feel like I’m sort of letting people read straight from my diary. If I hadn’t done that for myself unknowingly, I don’t think I would be the artist I am today. And if I wasn’t the artist I am today, I definitely wouldn’t be the person I am today. My music, songwriting, and ability to perform these songs has been cathartic and forced me to grow. Putting that mask on saved my life and helped me flourish not just as an artist but as a person.
Hat: Stetson w/ RoseCut.
Something else that struck me about Mule is how it’s part of a powerful history of queer and trans people using music to survive. It’s such a gift for queer people and people in recovery too —what do you wish people knew about these communities?
So often, especially in queer community, there’s numbing going on and substance abuse that out of context people would recognize that people are maybe in crisis. It’s commonplace for queer people to find coping mechanisms with a lot of the hurt that we experience on a day-to-day basis growing up, especially. I hope that having an album that talks about it with openness and humor, as only a queer person probably could, about their hurt, opens a bit more awareness —not just for people going through addiction, but also people who have friends who are partying too much. Often we’re in spaces where drugs are commonplace, and maybe even a part of our culture. I hope we might have a bit more of a discerning courage to reach out to friends and say, “Hey, are you good? Is everything okay?” As queer people we find a lot of different ways to mask what we’re really feeling because it’s part of our survival. We have to become more attuned to noticing when someone is screaming out for help. And we need to be better about feeling okay to reach out to the people we care about.
Hat: Stetson w/ RoseCut.
That is such an important message, and an especially tricky balance because you don’t want to shame people but you also want to be there for them.
Of course. Since getting sober the last thing I want to do is become some preaching person that’s nagging at everybody because they’re having fun. I’m so aware of trying not to do that. But I also know I can see when someone is going through something that I’ve experienced, and the drugs and alcohol and the partying is to block out some other feelings. I’ve learned to trust my gut on that and make sure that the people around me are feeling safe and happy. I’m very proud to say I’ve helped a few people in the last few years realize that, and I hope maybe this music can do that in a way that helps people question if what they’re doing is to enhance their life and have fun, or if it’s to block out something difficult. Because if it’s the latter, I hope they know there’s another way to deal with that.
Hat: Stetson • Shorts: Vintage.
What does country let you do that punk never did?
What punk gave me when I was younger was a completely open landscape to be myself, and the more myself I was, the better. I could express that in an aggressive way that felt controlled and tolerable, and turned into music that helped other people. That was really healthy for me as a kid.
I didn’t always find the courage within punk for individuality and to be vulnerable. I felt like I had an agenda, probably put on myself more than anything, to be cool. Country allows me to not be cool, but still gives me the rebellion and the freedom of punk. I get to tap into a landscape where I’m not worried about how I come off and if it’s too vulnerable.
What makes cowboys sexy?
Anything that plays with the OG trope of male strippers and images of what masculinity is supposed to be, tied to heterosexuality, is sexy. Not only is there a reality of gay cowboys in the world and in history, but I think the idea of a cowboy is such a trope of masculinity. What’s sexier than a little bit of rebellion? And chaps? If you don’t think that’s gay I don’t know what to tell you.
Jumper: Vintage.
What have you taken away from working on the album?
Mule is so much about my experience, my feelings and sharing that, and that’s all beautiful. But there’s a fine line to forgetting that our experiences, especially as addicts greatly affect people around us. As much as we have responsibility for our own lives, we also have a responsibility to show up for the people around us, which I definitely did not do for a long time because I was so deep in my own shit. Two of my band members have been there from the beginning and went through this period with me. It was a beautiful reminder to see how cathartic it was for them to make this album because it was a lot of closure for their experience with me canceling tour, going to rehab, disappearing from their lives, and putting their livelihoods in question. It was a very cathartic experience, not just for me to make this album, but for so many of the people in my life who went through that period with me and stuck with me. It was a reminder for me to be really grateful for those people, and also that our choices and our experiences don’t only affect us; they also affect the people around us.
Do you ever feel misunderstood as an artist?
I thrive in underdog territory. Sometimes the goal is to try to be understood. But I’m also okay with not being fully understood. Someone asked me recently in an interview to explain details of a lyric on one of the new songs. I used to give everybody an explanation to absolutely everything but not everything needs to be spoon fed. I think holding back and having people be confused and have some interpretation is healthy. It helps people enjoy the experience more and to have a critical thinking mind when it comes to art.
Being misunderstood sometimes has its benefits. I love it when someone has a totally wrong interpretation of one of my songs. It’s kind of fun because, well, I got your imagination working!
Mule releases on September 18th via Warner Records
Watch the full backstage video, exclusively on PLAYGIRL+
