“Two Things Can Be True,” released September 18, captures that tension better than any other preview from Lambert’s forthcoming album, Crisco. It is not merely another heartbreak song in her catalog. It is the emotional center of the record and, by Lambert’s own account, her favorite song on the album.
That distinction matters. While “Crisco” and “Till the Going’s Gone” bring groove, movement, and attitude to the rollout, “Two Things Can Be True” slows the entire world down. Steel guitar and strings sit alongside Lambert’s vocal, answering her almost line for line. The arrangement becomes her duet partner: not another voice, but a conversation between the singer and the ache surrounding her.
Lambert has described the song as “country through and through,” with an old-school Patsy Cline feeling. That influence is clear not because the track imitates the past, but because it understands what classic country does best: turn emotional contradictions into unforgettable lines.
The central conflict is devastatingly simple. He is still holding her, but he is already falling for someone else. She can hear what he says and see what his eyes reveal. The chorus does not tidy up that contradiction or offer a clean escape “I know you’re fallin’ for her, but you’re still mine.”
That is the song’s power. It does not pretend heartbreak is logical. It recognizes that two opposing truths can coexist—and that accepting both may be more painful than choosing one.
The song also carries extra weight because Brendan McLoughlin is one of its five writers, alongside Jesse Frasure, Natalie Hemby, and Ilya Toshinskiy. McLoughlin has been increasingly involved in songwriting over the last few years, previously contributing to “Dammit Randy” from Lambert’s 2024 album.
His involvement here makes “Two Things Can Be True” especially intriguing. This is not simply a song Lambert recorded; it is a heartbreak song she helped write with her husband and has called her favorite on the record. That does not mean listeners should assume the lyrics are a literal account of their relationship. Lambert has not presented the song as a confession, and there is no need to force a real-life narrative onto it.
In fact, the song is stronger when it remains open to interpretation. It may come from personal experience, observation, imagination, or the creative chemistry in the writing room. What matters is that the emotion feels lived-in. Lambert sings as if she is not explaining heartbreak but standing inside it.
Crisco is a twelve-song album due October 2 on MCA, produced by Lambert and Frasure. Its early rollout has suggested a project built around contrast: swagger beside vulnerability, dance-floor energy beside late-night reflection.
“Two Things Can Be True” sits fourth in the sequence, following “Snakeskin Boots,” the kitchen-dance title track, and “Cowgirl Curtsy,” before the sharper “Cuttin’ Onions.” That placement is revealing. Lambert is not isolating the ballad as a separate mood or treating it like a detour from the album’s personality. She is placing it directly inside the record’s larger argument: country music can be playful, stylish, rhythmic, traditional, and wounded all at once.
Some listeners may wonder whether such a traditional ballad belongs on a record that also embraces groove and disco-country flair. The answer is yes—and that contrast is precisely why the song works. A collection filled only with upbeat tracks could become predictable. A record built entirely around heartbreak could feel heavy. “Two Things Can Be True” gives Crisco emotional depth without sacrificing its momentum.
The bigger question is whether radio and casual listeners will make room for a steel-and-strings ballad in a rollout driven partly by movement and modern polish. But Lambert has never needed her songs to fit neatly into one lane. Her strength is making different sides of country music sound like they belong together. This track does that with remarkable confidence.
The best album songs are not always the loudest or most obvious. Sometimes they are the ones that quietly reveal what the entire project is trying to say. “Two Things Can Be True” feels like that kind of song.
It carries the ache of classic country without sounding trapped in the past. It gives steel guitar and strings a meaningful role rather than using them as decoration. It showcases Lambert’s ability to sing restraint as convincingly as she sings defiance. And McLoughlin’s writing credit adds another layer to a track already built around emotional complexity.
Most importantly, the song trusts the listener. It does not explain how to feel. It presents a contradiction and lets the contradiction hurt.
With Crisco arriving October 2, “Two Things Can Be True” may ultimately prove to be more than a standout single. It may be the song that explains why the album’s different moods belong together.
Listen to “Two Things Can Be True,” revisit the words, and decide for yourself whether Lambert has found the record’s emotional centerpiece. Then stream Crisco when it arrives October 2—and pay close attention to the song Lambert says is her favorite.