Even though Worley has a hectic touring schedule, she managed to go to her high school’s prom … sort of. She tells Plymouth Magazine that after being at the dance for 12 minutes, her tour bus picked her up for that night’s scheduled show. She then ended her prom night singing onstage in her dress.

“I’ve been in this professional industry for so long, it’s almost like a culture shock when I go back to school,” Worley says. “It’s bizarre for me to go to a place where I am just a teenager.”

Country music has many sub-genres: country rock, outlaw country, bro-country, pop-country, honky-tonk, folk … we could go on. Worley, however, chooses to describe her band’s sound in a more detailed way: “If Led Zeppelin and Willie Nelson had a baby, and that baby’s best friend was Eric Church,” she explains with a laugh. “Some say it’s like we’re creating a whole new genre.”

In fact, Grammy Awards-nominated producer Matt McClure says that working with Worley was unlike anything he’d done: “I really had to think outside the box because Devon and her band are doing something much different than what I typically produce. It took me out of my comfort zone, and that was a good thing,” he reflects. “In the end, I think we did something great. It’s truly a fantastic album.”

Worley’s family owns a cabin, and they make lots and lots of trips up there during the summer months. Because any good summer vacation has an even better soundtrack, for Worley’s family, Willie Nelson was the ticket — and one album in particular.

“Constantly, and for the longest time, the only thing we would listen to when we were up there was Red Headed Stranger,” Worley remembers. “I could sing that album backwards and forwards, in French, by the time I was, like, three.”

That explains why, when Worley briefly interacted with Nelson at a show one time, she cried for a half hour after.

When you’re aboard the same mode of transportation for a while — especially when it’s a tour bus and you’re on the road — it doesn’t exactly feel (or smell) like a five-star hotel. So, Worley improvises.

“I have a candle on the bus that the guys gave me that we light when we park,” she tells The Boot, “because I tour with a bunch of old men.”

Worley grew up in a karate-loving family: They own the National Karate schools that are located throughout the Twin Cities (Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minn.). She has her black belt, and can probably hold her own if a show gets rowdy, but her real love has always been music; according to the Sun Post, when she was about 3 or 4 years old, Worley snagged a microphone at a karate tournament to belt out “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”