1. You’ve described music as a second language that found you before you were even old enough to consciously choose it, having started singing at just four years old. Looking back, do you feel music has always been a way for you to understand yourself and the world around you, and how has that relationship evolved as you’ve grown from a young singer into a songwriter, producer, and artist in your own right?
Yes, it’s always been a way for me to put my often overwhelming emotions into a more organized, clarified channel. I also use free-writing, painting, and dancing as an outlet. The longer I work in music, the more respect I gain for the people around me who possess skills I don’t have. For example, I can hear an entire arrangement in my head and sing it on pitch, but I have no idea how to engineer or actually shred on a guitar. Music is so magical and requires a bit of everybody’s potion.
2. Your sound brings together deep soul, Americana, roots rock, and classic rock, drawing inspiration from artists as diverse as Aretha Franklin, Janis Joplin, Fleetwood Mac, and Carole King. With such a rich musical upbringing, how do you decide which influences to bring to the forefront of your own music, and is there a particular artist whose approach to songwriting or performance fundamentally changed how you see your craft?
Great questions! I don’t think I really decide purposely which influences to bring in. I let the song dictate where it wants to go. Once I have an idea of the sound and production, I’ll listen to some of my inspirations to further hone in on the execution of the track.
Janis Joplin’s wild performances really grabbed me as a teenager. She really poured it all out on stage, let herself be seen in all her sweat, sadness, and of course, soulfulness.
3. Your forthcoming album, The Valley, explores new love, relationships ending, abandoned hopes, and the hard-earned peace that can follow difficult experiences. The title suggests a journey through both emotional lows and moments of clarity. What does The Valley represent to you personally, and did making this album help you find meaning in experiences that might otherwise have remained unresolved?
“Hard-earned peace that can follow difficult experiences” is such a great line. Getting to walk with your Higher Self is often the result of being whittled down to the bottom and fighting for resurrection. “A valley is a low-lying land area bounded by higher ground like hills or mountains, typically carved out by the forces of water or ice over millions of years. They are one of the most common and vital landforms on Earth, acting as natural drainage basins and hubs for human civilization.” It’s in the low-lying land where we actually find our true humanity.
The making of The Valley saw the beginning and ending of a relationship, which was in itself a major teacher. Bringing the accompanying music videos to life was also kind of a psychedelic experience – for so long I had daydreamed and planned and wanted to hear and see this music come alive. I don’t think anything ever gets resolved but it’s been exciting to finally let this project get some airtime. Being a perfectionist, I can always go back and tweak one more thing. So for me, the practice is just letting it be done.
4. As both the producer and a central creative force behind The Valley, you’ve taken an active role in shaping the album’s sound and emotional direction. How does producing your own music change the way you approach a song, and do you ever find yourself having to step back from the technical side of the process to reconnect with the raw emotion that inspired it in the first place?
Lots of ear breaks. Really dropping into my gut instincts. What do I want to hear and feel, regardless of what others might think about it?
5. You describe your music as balancing the grit and abandon of a live band with intimate, story-driven songwriting. When you’re writing, do you tend to imagine how a song will feel in a live setting, or does it begin as a more personal, stripped-down experience before growing into something bigger and more explosive?
It depends on the song, but ultimately, it always starts as an intimate ceremony. Eventually, though, I definitely know which ones are stadium songs and which ones are acoustic tracks.
6. Your recent singles, “Ruler of My Heart” and “Birds of a Feather,” have helped establish the sound leading into The Valley, while your new single takes an upbeat Americana-rock approach to the idea of surrender. What drew you to explore surrender as a source of freedom and power, and how do you distinguish between giving up on something and finally letting go of what no longer serves you?
I don’t know if surrender is something anybody willingly explores. In my experience, it’s just been something I’ve had to do in order to find some of that “hard-earned peace”.
7. As I mentioned earlier, you draw inspiration from vocal powerhouses like Aretha Franklin, Donny Hathaway, and Janis Joplin, artists who could communicate extraordinary vulnerability and strength through their performances. What does it take for a vocalist to move beyond simply delivering the notes and make a performance feel genuinely lived-in, and how do you push yourself to reach that level of emotional honesty in the studio?
Such a great question because it’s one I have to ask myself all the time. My voice coach often reminds me that singing is less about hitting the right notes/being on pitch and so much more about delivering an honest, moving performance. Am I making my audience feel something? Am I telling the truth when I sing? If the answer is yes, then I’m doing it right.
8. You’ve performed on platforms such as Jam in the Van and Songs in the Canyon, where the connection between an artist, the music, and the performance takes center stage. What have those experiences taught you about the difference between recording a song and performing it live, and is there a particular kind of audience response that reminds you why you chose this path?
Any live experience teaches you to be flexible. You’re not always going to get the sound or audience you want, or even the performance you might want from yourself. But doing this thing live really asks me to remember honesty. It’s not about perfection, as I mentioned above. It’s about the truth of the song in the moment, with whatever I’m feeling that day. In terms of audience reactions, big smiles or big tears.
9. Your guiding philosophy is refreshingly direct: go for it, tell the truth, and recognize that honesty can be both cathartic and badass. Was there a particular moment in your life or career when you realized that being completely honest in your music was more important than trying to fit into a particular sound, genre, or expectation?
Songs like “One More Time”, which is on The Valley, is an example of an imperfect, nontraditional approach. But it’s one of my favorites. It’s just like a raw, open later, with some experimental instrumentation and imperfect delivery. You can kind of hear the piano pedal in some of it. It drove me nuts in editing at first, but my engineer mentioned she actually really liked it because it felt so human.
10. With The Valley, you’re bringing together your experiences as a songwriter, performer, and producer into a collection that embraces transformation and the freedom found on the other side of difficult experiences. As you look toward the next chapter of your career, what creative risks are you most excited to take, and what would you like listeners to discover about themselves when they hear your music?
Such a great question! I’m excited (and a little nervous) to record some music that is completely different from the genre I’m working in now. I won’t give too much away, but I’ve got some new sounds brewing.
What I’d like listeners to discover: anything they may have been afraid to explore alone.
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Vents MagaZine Music and Entertainment Magazine