**Maren Morris and Yola Just Sang ‘My Church’ in the Hamptons—Now Pop Culture Has a New Religion**
Brace yourselves, because Mr. KanHey is back on the cultural pulpit, and this time, we’re taking communion with some holy harmonies—and even holier defiance.
Last night, in the rarified air of the Hamptons, where summer tans cost more than tuition and silence is curated like fine wine, Maren Morris ripped through the pretense like a divine thunderclap. With powerhouse phenom Yola by her side, she summoned the ghost of gospel, the fire of country grit, and the radiant energy of self-made evolution to breathe new life into “My Church” as part of the Soho Sessions—a series that feels less like a performance and more like a sermon for the souls who *still believe in the transcendence of sound*.
Let’s get one thing straight—this wasn’t just a song. This was a *cultural alchemy*. Maren Morris didn’t just sing her 2016 breakout hit; she re-baptized it in the electric waters of autonomy and artistic rebellion. And in case anyone forgot, she reminded us with flair and fire: “This is the song that turned me into an artist and not just a singer-songwriter.”
Oh, honey, we felt that.
This version of “My Church” wasn’t the polished platinum we first met on the airwaves—it was raw, thunderous, stretched across the kind of emotional tension you can’t synthesize. With Yola’s velvet-wrapped dynamite vocals weaving through every verse, the performance became a ceremonial defiance of all things beige and bottled. Two Black female country-soul warriors—one by blood, one by fury—taking a genre still trying to find its moral compass and *spinning it into a glorious hurricane of soul, sass, and sacred rebellion*.
Forget the pews. *This* was church.
The Soho Sessions, known for stripping away excess and giving space for real artistry to breathe, provided just enough velvet and candlelight to let these two titans glow without distraction. And in this performance, Maren’s transformation felt cellular. This was not a woman performing nostalgia—this was a high priestess reclaiming her damn altar. Her voice carried the bite of someone who’s walked away from the industry’s good-girl grooming and decided to write sermons in fire instead of ink.
And that’s the gospel I’m preaching today.
Maren Morris and Yola have issued a call, loud and clear: the industry’s dusty doctrine is over. You can keep your gatekeepers and genre walls. These women are building sanctuaries for the disobedient, the divine, and the genreless truth-seekers. If you’re not ready to kneel at *that* altar, then you’re just another tourist in the temple of pop.
So sing it loud, baby:
🎵 “Can I get a hallelujah, can I get an amen?” 🎵
Because in the Church of Cultural Disruption, that performance? That was *the Book of Revelations*.
Dare to be different or fade into oblivion.
– Mr. KanHey
