Struggle Jennings hasn’t been sleeping since 2024’s all-country album ‘El Camino.’ On the contrary, in 2025, the rapper turned honkey-tonk singer released a live recording featuring hits from both sides of his library and a collaborative project with the supergroup Street Flavor.
These two outings kept the man’s name in the public eye long enough to allow him to work on the true follow-up to his first foray into what was once called hillbilly music. This year’s ‘Last Name (Deluxe)’ continues the insightful and significant songwriting, advancing the artist’s prolific presence among today’s top Nashville music stars.
The musician’s trademark raspy vocals lead into the first track, “Folded Hands.” While the guitar playing comes off as somewhat forgettable, the raw emotions of a freshly forgiven man strike a chord within all of us. We’ve all fallen short somehow and need to be pardoned of our sins.
While Jennings relates this to his faith and the act of prayer, sometimes a simple apology to an offended family member or friend can make great strides in repairing tarnished relationships. A simple acknowledgement of your wrongdoing goes a long way in mending fences.
A beautiful whine of stringed instruments announces the next track, “Last Name.” The soulful sound creates a mood before Jennings even opens his mouth, letting the listener know in advance that this isn’t a cover of Pharrell Williams’ “Happy.”
Words paint a picture of a past defined by family ties. Our upbringing does so much to construct our reality. For better or worse, the lens through which we view things is skewed towards everything our mothers and fathers have taught us.
In the end, only we are privileged enough to see the big picture. As an integral part of our family unit, we understand them in ways outsiders can’t. You know your family’s last name and everything it stands for; every struggle that goes into their character is a foundational brick that blood, sweat, and tradition have built.
It may not always be pretty, but it means something that can never be taken away.
Introducing elements of soul, “Garden of Stone” discusses in part the beauty that lies within death. The promise of no longer having to see your loved ones hurt is a strange comfort we will never know on this side of heaven.
There are few worse hurts than seeing your kin suffer. Knowing you can’t prevent their every tear creates a deep-seated sadness that can sometimes seem unshakable. The thought of this being non-recurrent offers a special kind of comfort that doesn’t quite make death inviting, but at least makes it more tolerable.
Moving on to “Storm I Can’t Weather,” the track incorporates a suitable guitar solo that ultimately isn’t altogether inspiring. The performance probably won’t invigorate someone to pick up their instrument and strum along, but the composition makes sense in its placement, avoiding awkward transitions and badly timed notes.
The lyrics invoke a sense of anger, sadness, and shame, with the singer admitting he can handle a majority of what life throws at him, including fire, hurricanes, and everything in between, yet he can’t quite manage to come to terms with himself. As others have said before, we are our own worst enemies, making bad decisions, speaking out of turn, and having selfish ambitions. Not until the moment has passed do we realize the monster we have truly become.
Even our best intentions can be cloaked in pride, arrogance, and haughtiness. Some call it human nature, while others insist it is a vice. Either way, our attitudes aren’t tangible excuses for who we are and what we do; they are a mirror into which we look and see our past, present, and future.
“Praying For Rain” strips it down to the basics, holding back any grand orchestration, instead opting for an innocent and elegant approach. In the current times of artificially polished radio anthems, the simplicity is quite refreshing.
The self-described troubadour hopes for the cleansing wash of the summer rain to reintroduce a sense of innocence to his life and soul. He knows that he has done many things wrong, embracing misjudgments and misaligned missteps that he can’t possibly compensate for. This highly sought-after precipitation dares to renovate his inadequacies and iniquities, purging depravity and recompensing his self-worth.
There are many attributes of this symbolic sanctification broadcasting Struggle Jennings’ trials and tribulations and his life’s mission of purification.
Charging in with a recorded wolf’s cry, “Howling at the Moon” delivers a more buoyant sound than the previous tracks. Upbeat and amusing with wordplay and instrumentation, Jennings’ excitement and delight are evident in the recording.
The artist poses the question, “Oh, I could burn them tires on all them roads you said I run, but what you’re gonna do if I go do all the things you said I’d done?” Sadly, this is the moral dilemma we sometimes face: how do we respond to false accusations?
Our past and current reputations can get us into more trouble than we can imagine. Should we live up to the hype, acting like Bonnie Raitt, and give them something to talk about?
The truth is, people are going to think what they want to think; live your life the best you can, and don’t worry about popular opinion. Besides, proving the haters wrong is an achievement by itself.
Constant collaborator and good friend Jelly Roll teams up with the musician on “Only God Knows.” While the fellow countrymen’s vocals add some variation to the ditty, it almost seems unnecessary. Struggle Jennings has earned his right to sit in the winner’s circle; he doesn’t need to tug on Superman’s cape to get additional recognition.
With deeply introspective lyrics, the two admit their fault in the lives they’ve led, damn near selling their souls while drinking with the devil. It takes a strong person to recognize that consequences come from the sum of their actions. It doesn’t matter how far you have fallen as long as you get back up.
Following suit, “Broken People” features additional artists RMR and Caitlynne Curtis. While they don’t bring the same acclaim and stardom as Jelly Roll, their talents imbue the harmonization with a sound tailor-made for the track. In short, this is classic Struggle Jennings.
Approaching the subject of mankind’s brokenness, the illustrators organize the complexities of living in a world blanketed with the lonely and the lost. In our own minds, we are isolated on a planet of pain, but in reality, that distress is a communal hardship. Finding like-minded individuals often makes life more bearable.
Moving a few songs ahead, “More Than Church” carries a nearly hypnotic melody that is calm but effective. Jennings’ husky overtones mask the repetitiveness without snuffing it out altogether.
Driven by unyielding resolve, Struggle Jennings keeps recounting his transgressions, crying out for the passion he once shared with the woman he lost. Singing the words, “I’m missin’ that angel wakin’ up next to me. I’m missin’ that honest man I used to be,” the artist pinpoints the heart of his solitude — shouldering the blame for his despair and desolation.
While not quite alluded to in the lyrics, all the man has left is radical acceptance and adaptive learning. Lost love isn’t wasted if you can achieve personal growth.
“Rolling Stone” concludes the album’s original cut, galvanizing the listener with hope and encouraging them to learn from the musician’s frailties. For this man, if all else fails, guiding a stray soul to redemption is enough to justify the suffering.
When all is said and done, actionable advice and pithy observation are the maximum extent of the haggard.
Six additional tunes are available on this deluxe edition, including “If I Could Love You,” “Before I Go,” and “Give It Away.” Encompassing love, loss, and absolution, the country star furthers his concepts at the risk of sounding redundant. Fortunately, these melodies meet the bare minimum, validating their existence and winding things down properly.
As nonessentials, they are still worth spending a couple of extra dollars when purchasing on physical media.
Collectively, ‘Last Name (Deluxe)’ is a no-frills country album. In a genre now populated with well-varnished radio hits, Struggle Jennings strives to bring the music back to its roots, leaving out the pop-saturated refrains and depositing large pockets of grittiness throughout. While he achieves the objective, the album ultimately lacks any instant hits.
Country music is at its best when it can be sung along to at the local watering hole or a live event. Songs like Jelly Roll’s “I Am Not Okay” and Hardy’s “Truck Bed” are iconic, well-known tracks that bring out everyone’s inner cowboy. Their relatable lyrics and repeatable refrains capture something inside of us that merits re-emphasizing
At times, Jennings’ words are evocative, but sadly, the iterative phrases lack any major replayability. It is difficult to single out one song from the next, and pinpointing a preferred tune is nearly impossible.
Primarily, the most practical use for Struggle Jennings’ ‘Last Name (Deluxe)’ is background music during a friendly conversation or the soundtrack for a small town cafe. While that isn’t necessarily a putdown, it probably wasn’t the intended result.
What is your favorite track on ‘Last Name (Deluxe)?’ Let us know in the comments below.
Listen to ‘Last Name (Deluxe).’
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Charles E. Henning
Self-proclaimed "entertainment guru" Charles E Henning fills his free time reading books, watching movies, and listening to music. While not always up on the latest trends, he is consistently willing to dissect the themes of pop culture.