Ingrid Andress recently performed the national anthem at a Colorado hockey game to mark a significant turning point after a disastrous rendition at the MLB Home Run Derby seven months prior. During that performance, Andress was intoxicated, leading to a viral backlash and feelings of shame. Following the incident, she entered rehab to address her substance abuse, discovering unresolved issues from her career and personal life. After six months away from the spotlight, she emerged ready to share new music, including her single “Footprints,” reflecting personal growth and an introspective outlook. Andress emphasizes learning from mistakes and self-acceptance.
When Ingrid Andress delivered the national anthem at a hockey game in Colorado last Friday, she aimed to put behind her a chapter of her career marked by shame, regret, and embarrassment. Just seven months earlier in Texas, the country singer-songwriter made headlines for severely botching “The Star-Spangled Banner” during the MLB’s televised Home Run Derby.
She knows you witnessed the event.
“I apologize for you having to experience that dreadful rendition of our national anthem,” Andress reflects in her first interview since then. “The person you saw was not a true reflection of who I am.”
“You saw me at my lowest,” she adds with optimism, “so everything from now on can only get better.”
That mid-July afternoon in Dallas is rather hazy for Andress. After arriving at the Texas Rangers’ stadium, she completed a soundcheck and began drinking. It wasn’t unusual for her to indulge before performing, attempting to dull unresolved feelings. “Up to that point, it never interfered with my performance,” she explains. “I liked being numb… That’s how it spiraled out of control.”
However, what struck Andress the most before the Home Run Derby, in front of a live crowd of 40,000, was her lack of care. “I just remember thinking, ‘I don’t care,’” she recalls. “I felt so much like an object that it simply didn’t matter. I had completely lost the plot.”
As she started to sing, it quickly became evident that Andress’ mind was elsewhere. Her hair was unkempt, her speech was slurred, and off-key vocal cracks and vibratos went viral on social media. By the end of her performance, she could be seen lowering her head and grimacing.
Andress isn’t here to delve into the could-have-beens, but she acknowledges that she was so intoxicated that day she missed the note relayed through her in-ear monitor, which should have guided her performance. “If I hadn’t been completely blacked out, I would have heard the pitch in my earpiece indicating where to start,” she explains. “If you don’t begin on that note, you’re in trouble. It became my voice battling with the tuner, and that’s a losing struggle.”
Andress was aware it wasn’t her finest hour, but she did not immediately comprehend just how poorly it had gone. “After I exited the field, I remember chatting with one of my closest friends on the phone. She asked, ‘How’d it go?’ And I answered, ‘I think it went okay,’” Andress recounts.
The following morning, her team endeavored to shield her from the online backlash, and she hoped the video hadn’t spread widely. However, online discussions about her performance were ubiquitous. Feeling “hungover and disoriented,” she returned to Nashville, where her team urged her to compose a statement.
“I didn’t run that statement by anyone,” she asserts. “I needed people to understand that it wasn’t just a single incident that I messed up. ‘I need to improve. I’m at a very low point, and I won’t lie about it.’” In her post, she included a wry joke about how rehab might be “super fun.” Some perceived it as insensitive, further fueling the online uproar. “It was cheeky of me, but I still wanted my personality to shine through in the statement,” Andress reflects. “I now realize how tone-deaf that came across.”
Just hours after posting her statement, Andress found herself on another flight to a rehabilitation facility (she prefers not to disclose the location, but confirms it wasn’t in Tennessee). On the plane, she quietly wept as she grappled with the humiliation of the performance and coming to terms with her alcoholism before both herself and the public. A flight attendant even tried to comfort her, saying, “Don’t worry, sweetie. People will forget.” But Andress felt that if the attendant was aware of what had transpired in Dallas, surely everyone else was too. “It broke my heart,” she recalls about witnessing the reactions online. “I had to cease reading comments because it hurt too much.”
Ultimately, Andress recognizes the reasons her performance drew so much ire. Yes, it was indeed poor, but the political climate in America was fraught. Just two days earlier, former Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump survived an assassination attempt at a rally in Pennsylvania; simultaneously, some Democrats called for President Biden to withdraw from the race. “I felt like America’s scapegoat. I became a means for everyone to unite. It was as if, ‘At least we can all agree that this girl messed up the anthem,’” Andress states. “I’ll take being the scapegoat, but I didn’t commit a crime. It felt disproportionate to the event.”
At the rehabilitation center, Andress had her phone confiscated and spent a little over a month addressing her substance abuse issues. During this time, several realizations came to the surface: Andress acknowledged that since the release of her debut album, 2020’s Lady Like, she had been working nonstop. (“When things are going well for you, nobody checks in on you,” she observes.) She also confronted some unresolved emotions surrounding her breakup with her former manager, along with a serious relationship that had ended.
“It involved making significant decisions in a short timespan that drastically changed my life. I thought altering those elements would resolve everything, but it was overwhelming to process,” Andress shares. “There was a grieving period I never allowed myself.”
According to Andress, she received an outpouring of supportive messages from fellow women in country music, such as Elle King, Kelsea Ballerini, and Little Big Town’s Karen Fairchild. “There was something about hearing from other women in country that made me feel like, ‘I’m okay. I’ll manage,’” she says. “We’ve learned to support one another.” She also heard from Carlos Santana, who offered encouragement and suggested they collaborate.
“This type of situation has happened to many who understand exactly what I’m experiencing right now,” Andress reflects. “It’s a ‘Thank God’ moment, because we all make mistakes. Yet we all move forward. That’s part of the journey.”
Andress emerged from rehab revitalized, although she admits she wasn’t truly prepared to step back into the public spotlight. For the next six months, she embraced a quiet life in her home state of Colorado, distancing herself from social media and the music industry. “I hadn’t had the chance to just live,” she states. “I wanted to see myself as a person and not simply as an artist. I wanted to discover what I appreciated about myself outside of my songwriting.”
Today, Andress feels energized, inspired, and unafraid of the public reaction to her music. “Fear of failure? I’ve already been through that,” she admits. She hopes those who found her through her lowest moment understand that she can indeed sing and write meaningful songs.
This week, Andress released “Footprints,” her first single since the national anthem incident. She wrote the song for her siblings while navigating the beginnings of her career, reveling in Grammy nominations and opening for Stevie Nicks. In the piano ballad, she imparts wisdom based on her experiences and extends her footprints for them to follow if they choose. “I first crafted it on top of a mountain, but now listening to it while scaling that mountain again, it carries a much deeper meaning,” she shares.
Regarding her upcoming music, Andress mentions it steers away from love stories, focusing instead on introspection filled with questions and self-acceptance. She has come to compassionately embrace the young woman who exposed her struggles on a national platform in July.
“I feel as though I’ve rediscovered myself, and that is perhaps the greatest gift of this journey,” Andress reflects. “I learned never to allow your past to dictate your future. Sometimes, it takes a little public humiliation to spark a transformation in your life.”