Drill down deep enough, and there’s a beautiful conflict at the core of most things. A push and pull that inspires buildings and books, dream chasers and 9-to-5ers. It drives some to greatness, drives others mad, and even the finest poets struggle to capture it in words. But Kip Moore puts it simply enough:

Damn Love.

The beating heart and title track of his fifth studio album for MCA Nashville, it’s a yearning that seems engrained on each and every soul – no matter how hard we fight it.

“There’s a reason love and relationships have been written about so much – and why they continue to get written about,” Moore says. “Because at the core of us, that’s what we desire the most.”

Of course, there’s more to love than romance; passion takes many forms. And after almost 20 years in orbit around Nashville, Moore sees it all clearer than ever.

A genre-blending songsmith with a warm, honey-infused growl, four previous albums have brought the Georgia native success, often driven by deep-feeling lyrics with an easy Southern charm, and a hint of rock ‘n’ roll mystery. His five Top 10 country radio singles include 2012’s 3x Platinum Number One, “Somethin’ ‘Bout a Truck,” which he followed up with three more best selling chart toppers (“Hey Pretty Girl,” “Beer Money” and “More Girls Like You”), each one coaxing cosmic truth from down-home simplicity.

Wielding a rugged poetic flair, he’s sold millions of records and garnered over 2.7 billion streams through that time, traveling the world and growing a truly global following in the process – all with the focus of an avowed lone wolf. He was even uniquely situated to embrace the pandemic shutdown, going back to nature after 2020’s Wild World to rock climb, write songs and generally “stay quiet and away from the madness of humans” in Kentucky’s Red River Gorge. In the beginning, it suited his nomadic spirit fine.

“I think it was the most creative I’ve ever been, because I’ve always internally craved solitude, and I was in it every day,” Moore explains. “That part was soul filling for me.”

But gradually, something changed.

Getting off the treadmill he’d been on for a decade-plus, Moore slowly began to feel the weight of his solitude, self-imposed or otherwise. The lockdowns lifted and Moore got back on the road, back in front of fans and back on stage, but the shift stayed with him. “I think it’s in our DNA,” he says now. “We need companionship. … Maybe I do a little less than most, but it’s still there.”

Somewhat suddenly, that realization began to fill his work. Over 13 new tracks, emotionally raw and thick with epiphany, a tug of war emerged between adventurous wanderlust – a love that keeps him writing music and traveling highways – and that basic human craving for someone to share it with.

Co-writing all but one track, charismatic heartland rock and new-wave production collide with a comforting country sway, as the vast majority of each song came in a flash. Near complete compositions would simply appear from the ether, Moore explains, falling to the page like they’d been inside him for years, waiting to get out.

With primary co-writer/producer Jaren Johnston helping lean in to the rougher edges of the last few records, desolate rockers like “Neon Blue” and “The Guitar Slinger” offer prime examples, pouring out after a weeks-long tour and mixing go-your-own way pride with a sense of weathered exhaustion. Barstool serenades on the life of a modern drifter, they each roll by like classic-rock tumbleweeds – with Moore going nowhere, even as he hurtles from one city to the next.

“I never want to be misinterpreted on this, because my soul still burns hotter than ever for what I do,” he says. “But a lot of times it feels like I haven’t changed, even though everything else has. You feel this heartache inside you, and the reality is that your soul is still on fire, but your heart feels faded. I think your heart goes through a lot of damage in this life.”

He holds on to passion in the persistent anthem, “Heart on Fire,” while “Another Night In Knoxville” captures the magnetic draw of the stage – a sweeping ‘70s-rock ballad that soundtracks a long-cherished memory. Meanwhile the refreshing “Kinda Bar” conjures magic from a roadside tavern, feeding souls with the same lighthearted twang as “Somethin’ ‘Bout a Truck.”

All the while, Moore showcases the most-potent vocal of his career. Pulling Moore’s inner fire to the surface, track after track infuses pulsating rhythm and classic synth patches with soothing melody, a rush of progressive-country energy balanced out by acoustic grit.

“I’m always trying to give fans and myself a different element with each album,” he explains. “You set yourself up when you do that, stepping out on a limb you’ve never been on. But I want to trust my gut.”

The journey of growth continues with the propulsive ‘80s pop of “Silver And Gold,” as life’s true treasure rises into view like a billboard on Sunset Boulevard. “Peace & Love” matches it note for neon-throwback note, and a comforting sense of clarity arrives with gentle instant classics, “Some Things” and “One Heartbeat” (featuring Ashley McBryde).

Eventually, easy-going anthems like “Mr. Simple” and “Mickey’s Bar” find Moore going back to basics, reflecting on the lessons learned and resolving to maybe let the world come to him for a change – but there’s still that “Damn Love” to consider.

It’s the only song Moore didn’t write, and here it leads the album like a cross between campfire contemplation, and redemptive rock anthem. It begins quietly, with Moore (and everyone else) at the mercy of love’s power. But his voice soon rises, with resignation transformed into gratitude in the space of a single, surging heartbeat. We can’t escape love and the longing it brings, Moore finally admits. And we wouldn’t want to if we could.

“I’ve always had a nomadic spirit, at the core of me that’s what I am, and it’s a beautiful life I lead – I don’t take that for granted,” he says. “But I still crave that companionship down deep in my DNA, and that’s where ‘Damn Love’ comes from. The minute that fire for music ever subsides, that’s when I’ll walk away. But right now, it’s burning as hot as ever.”