The room settles when he arrives—not because of spectacle, but because people register him quickly. Security acknowledges him with familiarity. Outside, photographers wait near the entrance, cameras lowered but ready. Inside, the atmosphere is quieter: dinner after a show, people regrouping, conversations resuming. A few heads turn out of recognition rather than curiosity. Strickland takes his seat, composed, the energy of the performance still present but contained. He isn’t performing in the room; he’s moving through it.
Nashville, From the Inside Out
Strickland moves through Nashville with a familiarity that only comes from years spent inside its machinery. He’s seen every angle of the business—venues, studios, late-night rooms where the real conversations unfold. He doesn’t push his presence; he doesn’t have to. There’s a quiet authority in the way he reads a space, in the way he knows who’s in the room before he even sits down. It’s not bravado. It’s an experience. The kind you earn, not announce.
Building the Foundation: Early Records and Radio
Strickland’s early catalog laid the groundwork for the artist he would become. His first album, California Dreamin’. The momentum from those records helped establish him in Nashville as an artist with range and intent—someone capable of delivering the modern edge radio wanted while still grounding his music in real storytelling. It wasn’t a formula. It was a foundation.
An Unexpected Bridge to Hip-Hop
The next chapter in Strickland’s evolution came from a connection no one in Nashville saw coming. A publicist introduced him to Juicy J of Three 6 Mafia, a meeting that opened an entirely new lane. Strickland already had a country single titled “Don’t You Wanna,” but Juicy remixed it, giving the track a different pulse and a wider reach. They followed it with “I Got the Sauce,” expanding the space between country and hip-hop in a way that felt natural, not forced. It wasn’t Strickland stepping into hip-hop; it was hip-hop stepping into his world.
Denny Mode as a Statement, Not a Reset
Strickland’s second album, Denny Mode, marked a reinvention rather than a reset. The project opened with “Cowboy Sinatra,” a collaboration with Juicy J and Project Pat, with Danny Trejo guest-starring in the video—bringing his unmistakable presence into Strickland’s universe and amplifying its cinematic edge. The follow-up single, “Waiting on a Resurrection,” carried that momentum forward, landing on CMT and reinforcing the shift. Denny Mode wasn’t just a title. It was a declaration that Strickland had stepped fully into a world of his own making.
Expanding Genres Without Switching Sides
He isn’t choosing between country and hip-hop—he’s working in both. One day he’s on hip-hop radio; the next he’s back in country rotation without missing a beat, alongside airplay across key markets. “Waiting on a Resurrection” is rooted firmly in country, while “Cowboy Sinatra” moves easily through the hip-hop space. And the next single from Denny Mode continues that evolution, leaning into hip-hop while carrying the storytelling that anchors all of Strickland’s work. He moves between genres without repositioning his identity as an artist.
The Next Chapter
The next release from Denny Mode is set for completion in mid-January. The video introduces a poised, cinematic presence who adds a new dimension to Strickland’s visual universe. It’s the kind of release that doesn’t just signal momentum; it expands the world he’s been building one chapter at a time.
A Cinematic Counterpart
Yuliya Lasmovich steps deeper into his cinematic universe with Love From a Distance. In the unreleased video, a love interest operates as his ride-or-die — a femme fatale force moving between Los Angeles and New Orleans with the kind of controlled danger the story demands. She’s first seen on a balcony under the LA skyline, the Hollywood sign glowing in the distance, wearing a Denny Mode bikini — a visual spark before she slips into an underground exchange where briefcases trade hands and intentions sharpen. A car chase tears through the city, fast and tense, pushing her into the night before she resurfaces in New Orleans, now in a striking red dress as she approaches Strickland’s mansion, where he waits with a cigar and a calm that says everything. The character doesn’t soften the frame; she disrupts it. Her presence adds contrast and tension to the narrative, reinforcing the visual direction of this chapter of Denny Mode.
What Comes Next
Even as Love From a Distance prepares to roll out, Strickland is already looking ahead. He’s gearing up to return to the studio. Strickland isn’t chasing trends; he continues to work within a space he has developed over time, one that moves between country and hip-hop without losing its center.