And The Writer Is...with Ross Golan - Ep. 214: Ian Fitchuk | Create For Yourself...

Episode Date: June 16, 2025

Today’s guest is a musical architect whose fingerprints are on some of the most emotionally resonant and sonically rich records of the last decade. He’s not the loudest in the room—but when he��s in the studio, every note, every tone, every beat matters. A multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, and producer with an unmatched intuition, he brings out the soul in every song, guiding artists to their most authentic performances. From Grammy-winning collaborations with Kacey Musgraves to shaping records across indie, country, rock, and beyond, he’s the quiet force behind the soundtracks to our lives. All the way from Nashville, Tennessee, this master of nuance proves that subtlety can be a superpower. And the writer is… Ian Fitchuk!0:00 – Intro: Sobriety, Fear & Creativity 0:55 – NMPA Sponsor Message 3:25 – Growing Up in the Chicago Suburbs 6:15 – Musical Upbringing: Classical Roots & Church Influence 9:05 – Early Influences: CDs, Cassettes & Graceland 12:05 – Bear Killer, Drums & Songwriting Beginnings 17:30 – From Church Bands to Writing Real Songs 20:50 – Leaving Home & Moving to Nashville 27:30 – First Touring Gig & Life Lessons 30:50 – Discovering Production via the Christian Music Scene 35:50 – A Decade of Struggle Before the Breakthrough 40:50 – Why Ian Never Quit (Even With Kids) 45:00 – Golden Hour Era: Writing With Kacey 50:50 – Making Golden Hour Using Logic Stock Sounds  Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

How does sobriety help or hurt creativity? I thought I was having a lot of fun beforehand, but I really wasn't. I was disassociating. Now that I'm actually just here, I actually feel like I'm doing this better, I think. Trying to succeed, fear can be a really healthy emotion when it's trying to protect you,

but it's also super destructive. Is fear a useful tool in making music? If the fear is like, what are people going to think of me? and that's no good. How do you meet Casey Musgra? I really respect you for putting that out there. NMPA is the premier organization for music publishers and their songwriter partners. It's their mission to increase the value of music and that's exactly what they do.

NMPA is working right now to raise royalty rates for songwriters from streaming services, radio, social media and everywhere music is essential. From the courts to Congress, NMPA works to get songwriters what they deserve. I know because I've served on the board before, and I'm the current co-chair, along with Ryan Teter and Liz Rose, for the Golden Platinum Club. So again, thank you NMPA for supporting And The Writer Is and Songwriters Everywhere. Welcome to And The Writer is. I am your host, Ross Golan.

There are millions of singers and thousands of artists, but only 40 songs. songs per genre at a time. This podcast aims to shed a light on those creators who make those songs. I produce this with my friend Joe London in association with mega house music group. Special shout out, Charlotte Isidore, Jad, and Michael White. And you can follow us at And The Writer Is on all your socials. We'll see you there. Now, this week's episode. Welcome to And The Writer is. I am your host, Ross Golan. Today's super producer is super, not because he's parading around telling people how super he is, but because he produces the most super records.

He's a songwriter who makes his artist dive deep, and he's a multi-instrumentalist who supports the song's narrative. It's those instincts behind the board that have shaped some of the most forward-thinking records in modern organic music. A true studio visionary, he has a gift for, creating sonic landscapes that feel both intimate and expansive, whether he's crafting a shimmering pop track, a rootsy folk ballad, or a psychedelic country masterpiece. From his Grammy-winning work with Casey Musgraves to contributions across rock, Indian Americana, his influence is all over the charts literally. All the way from Nashville,

This musical alchemist has an unmasked ear for drum tuning and emotion. And the writer is Ian Fitchuk. Wow. Thanks, Ross. That's awesome. My man. Did you use AI to generate that? Or did you, like, that's amazing.

I didn't use AI. Like, shout out to Charlotte, who helps a lot of these things. She had some of these nuggets in here that were she, like, really solid. But yeah, you know, like this is like the intro, I feel like is my chance to be a writer. And I feel like it's my job to affirm and reflect back to how, like, how great of an intro that was. It would be weird if I just let you do that and then we just carried on if I said nothing about that. As if people don't, like, don't often talk to you. Yeah, yeah.

We're both Chicago kids. Yeah, we just, I think we're realizing that. Different parts of Chicago, but where, we're in Chicago you from? Western suburbs. It's a vast ocean of suburbia out there. And, yeah, about like 35, 40 minutes from the city. Western Springs, which, you know, more people have heard of LaGrange. And then even more people have heard of Wheaton, which is like a little bit further west.

And that's where I moved when I was in eighth grade. So, yeah, just when I say I'm from Chicago, you know, I always do feel like I have to qualify that a little bit, like, because. I didn't spend a lot of time in the city. I won't even pretend. But it was a very like John Hughes movie kind of growing up. Like anytime, and I wasn't allowed to see a lot of movies when I was growing up. So when I did see them as an adult, you know, I was like, oh, that's kind of where I grew up.

And that kind of looks like the school I went to and a lot of those types of things. So what's you? You didn't say. Well, first of all, I think Chicago suburbs go from Chicago through Iowa. Do you know what? Like literally, because the Cubs have a footprint through Iowa, it's like if you are, if you are in, I used to say I was from Chicago, then my friends from L.A. visited. And they're like, you are from an hour north of Chicago. And that'd be like being in Thousand Oaks and saying you're from L.A.

Yeah. You know? But even that might even be more L.A. than where I grew up, you know. But I'm from Deerfield, Highland Park area. Yeah. And, you know, the John Hughes movies thing is 100% accurate for anyone who's about our age who grew up in that area. Because all those movies, you know, my dad was the architect for the risky business house. Wow.

At the end of breakfast club when he raises his hand, that was Deerfield High School's football field, my football field. Wow. You know, what was the married with children? in that house is in Deerfield, Illinois. I did not know this. The house, the ravine that the car goes off in Ferris Bueller's, the white house in the background was rumoredly the girl I went to homecoming or turnabout or whatever that was.

Turnabout. Yeah. You know, it was like those, those movies were literally our high schools, you know, they were Newtrier High School. That's right. Nutrier is. Is Newtrier in Deerfield? No, that's in Winneka.

Okay. And there's some, I think Fall Out Boy might have had something to do at that high school. And I know Lewis a child, there's a few music things. But most of the music influence as far as Chicago outside of smashing pumpkins feels really either the south side where you get the Kanye common, that thing, a chance of rapper. Or it's like the real history of. of Chicago when Louis Armstrong comes to Chicago, going in through all the blues, the chess records, all that stuff.

Then he'd get into real music and a different era. But I feel like where we grew up, we had a lot more movie influence than music. Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I didn't, when I think about all of the history that Chicago has to offer, as far as music is concerned, I was pretty oblivious to all that. I mean, the-

Why weren't you, you weren't allowed watch movies? Well, that sounds a little more strict than it probably than in actuality. But, you know, my parents were pretty, they wanted me outside. They wanted me, you know, playing music, playing sports, being with friends. Like, they were just not, uh, we'd never had cable. Um, they were, they were fairly conservative Christian type people, but, but in a very empathetic, like, um, not, you know, fire and brimstone kind of way. They're, they're amazing people. Um, But yeah, they were just, I think, careful with what was happening in the house. And of course, at the time, I was like, I resented that.

But now as a parent, I can understand why and especially now. But they were both musicians. They played classical music. My dad was an orchestra director in the public school system. My mom was a music educator in the public school system. They both did freelance classical work. My mom's a flute player. my dad was a violist.

So like my musical context in Chicago had much more to do with like, you know, the church that we grew up in, the high school and band programs that were at the public schools that I grew up going to, which were great public school systems. And then, you know, like in high school, I would like be in bands. But I was the music that I was listening to was kind of at the mercy of what, you know, I could get my hands. on as far as CDs. I remember like saving money to ride my bike for when the Black Crow's next album was coming out. And my friends weren't really listening to the Black Crows. They were more like into Nirvana. But I was like into Nirvana, but also into the Counting Crows and Black Crows. And also had this really weird interest in like 90s like soft rock all at the same time like Bill Collins. Like I was, I don't know. I was fun. It's interesting to think about how different

music seeped in. But it really, I guess my point is, it wasn't necessarily formed around the fact that I was living in Chicago. Or maybe if it was, I don't know how it was. Well, it is, it is weird. There's the beginning of CDs really changes. The beginning of, the beginning of CDs really changes what we choose to listen to. Because we're, you know, tapes, tapes had a difference.

sort of short-lived kind of thing. We're both within a year of each other growing up. We grew up with probably before we remember records. Like there was a lot of vinyl, but we really grew up with tapes, which would break down, tapes, like we would literally pull the tape out of it. Our parents probably hated us.

How many tapes do you think we destroyed by stepping on them, by throwing, by pulling the tape, by like chewing the tape, whatever little kids would do, to ruin. They were so easy to ruin. And then you get like CDs and there are all these CD clubs. Yeah.

Where, you know, you'd get like 10 CDs for a cent and then you'd be a subscriber. All the Columbia. Columbia House. Columbia House and what a BMG. And you would go and get these albums, but you would listen to the entire album, whatever it is. whatever it is. And you would probably get the albums that would be the first 20

that they would even offer. But they were never like, I feel like they were all over the place. I feel like I ended up with, you know, like you were saying, even if you were listening to the roots of your stuff of like Black Crows and Common Crows, you still were likely to end up with

kind of a variety of albums. And you wouldn't just listen to one song and then move on. You'd probably listen to the whole album. Even if you didn't like it. even if you had no affinity towards that. I feel like there was this, you know, a forced digestion of certain kinds of music, whether you liked it or not at that age. Totally. Does that make sense? Yeah, 100%. I remember having, speaking of tapes, I would have, I remember there were some tapes

that I would have that I would keep in the cassette player so that when something came on the radio, like, I would try to catch it as quickly as possible. So I had like these fragments or choruses or pieces of songs. I would give anything to go back and find one of those and figure out which songs were on there. But that was, yeah, I can't imagine how that, what that would be. That's so far from where we are today that, but it was precious to me, you know, like, and the tapes, like you said, the cassettes that I had, you know, I had a, my first job was like a, I had a paper delivery, you know, I'd get on my rollerblades and, or walk or bike. And, and at that, time, like really the only, and I've talked about it before, but one of the only, like,

non-classical music records that my parents had, and I still never found out why, but was Paul Salmon's Graceland. And I had that. And I think just because maybe it was just the only thing around or I had heard his voice before, but that was just like my everyday kind of like cassette tape listening, wear it over and over and over and over. And because I, I didn't have like 30 of them. I really got to know them. Yeah. That album in particular is sort of songwriting 401,

where the long-form symmetry within verses and the rhyme schemes take longer and patience and his delivery is so effortless for something that is so complex to write. It's truly, if you haven't listened to Graceland, it's so necessary. for people now to understand because it uses so many different influences from different genres. It opens your eyes to Zydeco.

It opens your eyes to bluegrass. It opens your eyes to African diaspora. It's like it's really that that album is is really phenomenal. I mean, drums is your first instrument? I think so. I mean, I think from what my parents have told me, it was like, yeah, it was the, you know, pots and pans. just kind of finding things to to play around the house. My first like lessons were on piano.

And I think I did, I had a brief thing with Suzuki violin. Like maybe, I don't really remember anything about that. So just enough to record just one. Yeah, I think, you can edit.

Yeah. Yeah, or just enough to realize like you don't want a kid in your house learning to play violin. Yeah. It's just not, you know, it's actually worse than having a kid

It's trying to learn to play drums in the house. Why is that? Well, the screechy violin. I don't know. Maybe it's on the same level. But they were cool enough to get me a drum set in the house that they were tolerant of me, like, playing with and making noise. I have one younger brother.

Yeah. Does he play music? He does. He is actually like a really avid music listener, very into vinyl. We have some similar tastes. And then he has some areas. of expertise that are outside mine. But he, and he played music when he was younger, was in bands.

Did you guys play together? Or was it sort of like a, no. I wish we would have. You know, I don't, there's a lot, you know, when you get to our age that you start to wish you'd done differently. And one of those things is like being a cooler, older brother. I wish I would have like been like, hey, I think at that time I was doing my thing. He was into different kinds.

He was really into punk. and I guess I just thought we're doing different things musically and I didn't really go out of my way to include him with anything. And sorry, Kev. When I think of Black Crows and Counting Crows and Anything Else With Crows, when I think of those albums, I don't think of drum tones as much as guitar tones. True, very good, yeah.

You know, when I think of Graceland drum tones, day. But those two albums are not like, you know, for somebody who's who I feel like has sort of etched their way in the business as somebody who's like who has these drums that pop through records, you know, those just feel so guitar heavy. Were you ever a guitar? Like, did you, do you ever want to be like a guitarist or were you sort of a drummer who, you know, could do other thing. I feel like this is a good opportunity for me to say it. And I really don't mean this in a deprecating way. But I really, I feel like I've just always been pretty okay in a lot of things. Like a hack of all the trades I've said before. It's like I, I never really zoomed in on really

on details a whole lot when it came to like, oh, what is it I like about this? I was even thinking about that with Graceland the other day going, I don't know what it. I think. I don't know what it. I I think it was as much like the spirit like that he was singing with. Like I found myself, I was like singing along with a boy in the bubble or whatever and like remembering what it's like to feel. And I'm not a singer, but I was like I used to sing along to that album all the time when I was riding around. And I don't know.

And similarly, like you said, like with guitar driven albums, I did learn. I taught myself enough guitar in junior high, you know, to learn some Beatles songs. to like play along but I wasn't I had more confidence and ability on drums and on piano that it was kind of just like it was kind of extra credit I guess but I don't know I think that I'm growing up like playing in church too like it was easy to accompany like to play along with the choir like on drums that felt cool and different and piano it's like I felt like when I was first trying to write songs, which I really only wrote a handful of by myself when I was young. And it's honestly been since then that I've started and completed a song on my own, which is

something I'm embarrassed to admit, you know. Really? Oh, yeah. Like, I was just, you know, trying to work out these songs and these feelings. What's your first song that you wrote? Oh, man. I'm pretty sure it was called Always. How does it get?

I will get back to you on that. Okay. This is the first time. I should have prepared for this question, but... Do you... It was a piano ballad, for sure. Did you play it for people? Like, for your parents or anybody?

I don't think so. I think I felt pretty... It was pretty, like, real and intimate to me at the time. So, and I actually have not thought about that until... Why did you... I remember the first songs I wrote because I was just having fun with a friend in a piano room next to where the chorus was

we just were like, let's just start writing our own. We knew all the Beatles songs. So it's like, let's write our own songs. And Steve, the dog was written. Steve. I do have, that reminds me, one of the other early songs was called Bear Killer, which was just randomly named after a dog

that I had met, this tiny little dog in Alaska that we went on a family vacation. And I just arbitrarily named, the song, Bear Killer, because that was around the time, too, that I was, like, getting into jam band music where there were song titles that made absolute, that were just totally fish. Yeah, so I was like, okay, yeah. That should be the name of your publishing company.

It was. Bear Killer? That was my first B. Are you kidding? No, look it up. Yeah, my first BMI. Yeah, and I are on the same page. My first BMI name was that.

That's, yeah. Bear Killer, and it comes from that? That's right. Somewhere there is. audio of that song. How does that song go? I'm not going to do that here. Okay.

So the... This is between you and me later. Yeah, yeah, that's fair. I'm embarrassed. I honestly just can't remember. You know... That's you're full of shit because for sure, like, for sure you'd remember it. Like, there's not, there's no question that when this stops, you will know note for note.

I am, the chorus is coming back to me a little bit, yeah. Yeah. And it has something to do with like, you can always park in my parking lot or something like that. Oh, yeah? And how does that melody go? You can park your car in any spot you want. You can park your car in my parking lot or something like that. I mean, it's like kind of, it actually has a little bit of a country, four, five, one kind of lilt to it.

First of all, thank you for. Yeah, it's got kind of like a jingle 90s like intro that shifts wildly into like a kind of more of a country. sing-along chorus. Why did you decide to write always? I had very strong feelings for this girl that I met at my music and drama camp, but it was a huge part of my life for my upbringing. And I think I was just trying to put feelings to music, pen, pen to paper. I had one of those kind of glorified Casio keyboards that had like the beats and the

pads and the different stylistic rhythms. And that was pretty sure that's what I was. I wasn't on the piano piano, but my little. Did you play it for her? I don't think it ever made it to her. I don't think it ever got outside of me writing down the lyrics on a notebook paper and me kind of like singing it to myself imagining that I was singing it to like an

arena full of people, you know. Hey, I mean, that's a huge deal. Because like when he's still now, the reason why I ask so much about this song is Because I actually think that as I'm starting to reflect on my life as a musician at this point, how much I'm trying to be the refined version of 14-year-old me. My intention was to write songs that that whole room could sing. It was not so someone would watch me sing, which are different intentions. And when somebody comes into the studio now,

I still ask them, like, where do you see yourself performing? And if your answer is like, well, you know, I just want to make songs for myself, it's like that, that's interesting, but I don't know how, I don't think you need me for that. Right.

And for me, what I want to do is write songs that, like you said, like an arena might actually sing along to. And there's a different kind of intention in math around that kind of writing. Yeah. And you wrote that in the first version of that song, your intention, you know, here you are a decorated musician

who started from before you, you know, before you knew what you were doing. Totally. Now you're in a place where you're actually doing those. You know, you're actually executing on the mission. Yes. And I think what came to mind there, is that like I think around that time where I was maybe musing around what it was like to write

songs and get feelings out was also around the time that I started like playing music with other friends of mine and starting bands. And I think that I quickly realized that I much preferred that. Like whatever like dreams or visions I was having for a moment of like me sitting in a piano in front of an arena playing for people, I think quickly went away when I just, realized how much more fun I had when I'm like in a garage learning songs, creating stuff and doing it that way, making music with other people. You know, I think everybody's got their different path. And I have a lot of friends who are prolific and who write and create from a very singular

standpoint and use other people like myself to help them, you know, reach their goals to to get where they're trying to go. But it's their vision. I think I have, I learned pretty early on and have gravitated more towards like facilitating, collaborating, helping, you know, coming alongside of. And I didn't, I didn't, the obsession or the desire to like be seen as an individual in that way, I think went away pretty quickly, you know. How does somebody from a small town Wheaton, Illinois, eighth grade Wheaton, Illinois,

how does somebody from Wheaton, Illinois get to the big lights of Nashville? Pretty, I mean, I just had a friend. I was looking at colleges and I had looked at Berkeley. I grew up, you know, I had taken classical piano. I had played in bands. I could read music. I didn't really have any facility in jazz. And I liked jazz music.

I realized that it was like a palette that I probably could benefit from and wanted more. I wanted like training in. But I wasn't ready to like just jump hardcore into a jazz program. And I really wasn't passionate enough or good at classical music enough to like go hardcore at a conservatory. So I was kind of looking for that middle ground, which of course like Berkeley offered at the time. at Belmont University in Nashville, a girl that I went to high school with had gone there. And just she was like, I think you should check it out. I think you would like this school.

They have this commercial music program, which I think they still do, which was kind of a hybrid program. So I was like, well, I don't know. I hadn't grown up with country music. I didn't really know anything about Nashville, but it was close enough to go and, drive down for a weekend and visit. And I loved it. Like the town felt really cool and, um, easy to get around. And I met a guy named John Arn, who was one of the piano professors there. It was this, this quintessential like old jazz cat, like this long goatee, very, very quiet, very kind. And I was, I was like, this is, this is my guy. He is going to show me jazz. Like, I'm the, I'm going

learn it all from this guy. I felt a really strong connection with him. And so I didn't even go and look at Berkeley. I was just like, I just had an instinct that Nashville was the next place to be. And it really didn't have to do with like music industry. I knew nothing about publishing. I knew nothing about what producers actually did. I didn't understand session musician life. None of that. I just knew this guy was going to help me. And then when I moved down, like the first week I was in Nashville at a college party, I met guys that were in a band that had a record deal, that were jamming all the time, that we're doing some recording. And like three or four weeks later, I'm like leaving school to go on the road with this band. And that was it. I was like, okay,

all my music professors, I was like, oh, you have an opportunity to go and be paid to play music. like we'll be here. You go ahead and do that. And my parents were nervous, but they're like, cool, you can quit school, but you're on your own. You'll pay your bills. And I was like, I got this. They're going to pay me $400 a week. Like, don't worry about me. You know, little did I know. But what band was that? They were called the Dalia Lamas and then it got shortened to Lama, which was unfortunate. But yeah, they were signed in high school, really talented. They were. They were, They were a three piece. One of the guys, Neil Mason, went on to do this band called the Cadillac Black.

And he's the drummer. He was in that band. So I met Neil when I was 18. Jaron Johnston was around at that time. They were all kind of a friend group that had grown up in Nashville and Ben Morton and Ben Brown. And they had gotten signed at this Guido's Pizza Place when they were like 16, 17. Kenny Greenberg and Matt Rawlings, who were really prominent session guys in Nashville at the time,

who I recognized from album credits like Lyle Lovett albums and all these other places, they found him and got him signed to MCA out of L.A., so it was like a pop deal. And they had finished their record and were just about to tour. They didn't have a keyboard player and we're about to go on the road. And they were like, well, we'll pay you as a side guy. You can't be on the album. They're on the record contract, which at the time. time I was kind of like oh that's a bummer but it actually was a great thing because I actually got

paid and right had autonomy and stuff but um it didn't take long like it took like four or five months for me going out there doing road work with them to realize like this we were not going to be famous immediately being on the road was very little music and I was not like very wise with idle time like you know this was before like max books and iPhones and I just had I didn't make you just have time yeah I just was not this well it wasn't a great environment

for me so but I will say this to this era you what people miss now what they don't get is boredom that's true and the value of boredom is

it it's genuinely invaluable especially right now agreed those years of doing nothing. Same, because we have the same era of stuff. You know, it's like the first record deal.

Like, we finished the recording in 03. The album came out at the end of 04. And it was like, what did I do that year? Except for wait for the album to come out. Right. I mean,

we played some shows and stuff, but like, I eat Domino's pizza and played Tiger Woods. Like, it wasn't like, you know, we were not like, I was not acting.

I wasn't doing anything because that's not what you did at that time. You just did nothing and thought. And during that is when I had ideas of like, oh, well, what if I started this and what if I started that? And I had time to not, I didn't have to trial in front of other people. Yes. And that's the, I think that's the tough part of musicianship now is that during this idle time, people are releasing crap and it clouds a lot of their quality work.

Yeah. Because they're just trying to create something during their downtime. And they don't have the necessary that expertise to decipher which, what's worthy of public consumption. Great. Within reason. I mean, I'm not, you know, I'm, I don't know everything, but I'm just saying it's like, that era was a time where when you had time off, that's what it was. Yeah.

Whether you liked it or not. You were bored. You were scared. You were whatever. But you had nothing going on. That's true. I guess I had time riding around the van to realize, to be, to realize like, hey, I don't know if this is the place for me.

Like if I had just, this is not where, this is not where I want to be forever, you know. And what am I going to do about it? And so when I, so and then when I decided to leave, I was like, fortunate enough to have a friend who was in the Christian music industry who was, he was younger than me actually. So he was like 17, 18. And he was producing these really successful Christian albums and like was being handed all these budgets by labels to produce full albums. And I just, right as I was leaving the band, I was hanging out with him and just kind of observing

what he was figuring out as far as what it's like to produce. And that's when I was like, oh, yeah, this is, okay, I get this. And this seems like much more hands-on time spent actually making music and working with people and having something feel a little bit different every day, but in a way that I can still go home and do what I want at night, you know. It's amazing to see how many little choices you make. in the beginning of your career how over time you look and you see how significant the trajectory change is because of well there's a jazz teacher at this school that you don't even finish at

at this one location and therefore you end up in a band that's straddle genres yep just by chance you happen to know somebody in the christian you know music thing yeah in national So you're never like fully in one genre. But had you gone to Berkeley, it would just be a whole other trajectory. Absolutely. Whatever it would be, I'm sure you'd be successful there too. It just you don't, you can't really, you can't predict where the outcome is. But how crazy of a trajectory by chance?

What did you learn from doing those years of touring, switching over to music? What did you learn from touring that? was beneficial to your recording career. That's a good question. I mean, I guess I didn't really have enough of it to draw too many conclusions. I mean, I do, I miss playing music. I love playing live music. I love playing with other people.

And there was a part of that that was hard to leave behind. And even when I wasn't in the band, you know, the first decade or so in Nashville, I was still playing. around town with people just for fun or people that I was working with. And there's a part of me that still really misses that aspect of playing music. But I guess, yeah, anything that I learned from playing live was just that it needs to, I don't know, I have to think about that. I was just thinking more about how when you were talking about outcomes, after I started getting into production, like a couple of years into that, I was, I kept thinking

I needed to find a way to make sure that everything that I was doing was sounding like what Matt Surletic was doing at the time or what, you know, I'm trying to think of other producers or what the Neptunes, this is, you know, 2003 or four. It's like I started to think my, what I need to figure out how to do is how to make my things sound as good and as cool as everybody else is. And I just couldn't. It just was like so elusive to me. And it took me a long time to realize like it's not about making it sound like everybody else. It's like doing what just sounds good to me. That sounds like good to the people that I'm working with and that we enjoy doing if you're fixated on whether it's being, whether it's standing up to a reference point that you're

using is just a never-ending. It's just a mind fuck. So that completely derailed your question. No, no, no, it's fine. In 2004, you start getting your first cuts, really, like the first real cuts, which means 2003 you were really starting to work in it. And in this time, jars of clay in the Christian world is obviously significant. But names like, Jason Mraz, massive at the time. Guster is big. Travis is big. Stereophonics is big.

Jump Little Children, who I was opening for that year. Oh, yeah. When they just went by Jump, they switched it during that tour. You know, there's a bunch of really high-level names. At that point, you know, was your goal to have hits? Was your goal to make records? what was your goal when you started music? I think around that time I would have said,

I just wanted to make records that felt as timeless as anything that Ethan Johns was doing, which he was making Ray LaMontaine albums around that time. He was making Ryan Adams records that were, I felt like I kind of was realizing at that time that I love pop music. The idea of having hits was really, cool to me, but I also recognize that like my musical ability lent itself to things that were

queuing off of things that were more akin to like James Taylor or Paul Simon or some people like that. And so I'm like, well, and that was also around the time that in Nashville, we started to see like this. I realized that you could have songs synced for film and TV. Like the, Gray's Anatomy and all these shows were kind of starting to lean on friends of mine who were also singer, songwriters in Nashville, that were kind of doing this music that wasn't commercial country, wasn't like what I thought was like L.A. pop, but was, you know, like providing income for them and like an outlet to have these songs. And then the greater version of that, obviously, was when the Nashville show happened. And it like generated this whole infrastructure of

of really great music, honestly, that didn't necessarily find to have a place in the mainstream or in these other genre pockets. And where was I going with that? Well, I mean, I guess when I was asking about, you know, you start off with a bang. Yeah.

With like all stars. Yeah. You work a lot with sort of in a way, and I mean this with respect to it. I know a lot of these artists, but sort of like working class artists. Yeah. For years.

But you kind of tasted what the big names are. Or you were really close, circling around that. Yeah. You know, there's, I talk a lot with the writers that I've signed where it's like, you don't want to be part of the race to the middle. Hmm. And there's some, you know, most of the music industry, the music industry is the person who uploads a song using CD Baby or Princess.

CD at that time, whatever it is. Presses, I don't know, whatever. Burns the CD. That is the music industry. It's all part of the music industry. So it's not a knock on anybody on any level. But there's a difference between working with, you know, people who have platinum albums where at that point are providing income to ones that where you're aiming for some of these licenses,

but you're not getting, you know, that maybe you got to. three licenses in a year with Gray's Anatomy. And what is that maybe at the time, it gives you $45,000 gross split between the people. Like it's not, it's not nothing, but it's not like, you're not buying a house with that. Oh, no. I mean, I didn't buy my first house until 2010. I mean, I worked for a long time. And at that, and in those years, I was putting together whatever I could to make a living. I was, I was doing a lot of session work as a musician. I really wasn't making any money as a songwriter. I didn't have my first publishing deal until 2014, I think, of somewhere around then. So, like, up until that point, and that's 10 years.

It's a whole decade. I was, like, scraping by. Oh, yeah. Trust me. I know. Like, every car I had, it was, like, breaking down all the time and, like, trying to figure out how to, like, I had kids really young and trying to figure out how to get them the things that they needed. And, and yeah, it was really, I would say it was really hard, but also I had this constant sense that it was like getting a little bit better as time went on. And I honestly had no other options. I'm like, I don't, I don't know what else I would do. And I'm really enjoying the music that I'm making. I have friends who are making a lot more money than I am who are miserable. So it's not that bad. Like if this is getting better slowly but surely, I'm not like, I'm not reaching some of the goal posts that I feel like I

want for myself. But like, if I can take a couple vacations a year, and that's where it kind of ended up up around 2013, 2014, it was like between records that I was producing, which were a lot of independent things, some label things, some film and TV sinks, then a publishing deal, but still playing on a lot of albums, working with a lot of producers, and being paid well to, like, come and spend a month in the studio just playing. And all of those things. And all of those things, are kind of informing what eventually led to like now, which is mostly production work that songwriting is a part of and then and then also playing on those projects. But being able to like slowly tinker at all of those skill sets along the way and having

the vantage point of being like a musician, a session musician watching producers who are much more experience than I was, how they do things. And then getting into rooms, writing rooms and being like, okay, I haven't written a lot of songs since I was a kid, but I really want to get back into that. How do I do that? And how are the different ways that people write for filming TV or country or pop or whatever? And like just slowly kind of finding where I could fit in in any of those cracks. Like it took, I guess the point I'm making is that it took a really long time. Why didn't you quit?

There had to be questions. There had to be times you're like, you know, especially if you have children. Like, how do you raise kids while you're learning how to be a professional musician? I think that there was something in me that knew that it's truly what I love. And I think they're, there. And like I said, I could sense that things were getting better. I think that by the time, you know, right before like Golden Hour happened in 2018, I would say a year or two leading up to that, I think I really had made my piece with like the fact that maybe that was as good as it was going to get. You know, like I had never had a number one song. I had never received any major awards. And like, of course, I was still wanting to work hard and wanted success. But I think I had come to a place. where I was like, you know what, this is enough.

Like I was able to buy a house, take a vacation or two, like get a car that worked. Like, okay. Like for a lot of people, that is success. I mean, and I think I realized like, okay, like, I'm going to keep working hard at this. And if I keep working hard at this, maybe I can do this for the rest of my life. And maybe it won't look like what I thought it was going to when I was 20 years old. old, but like still not bad. Yeah, yeah.

You know? Nashville does seem like the place where, you know, the superstars sort of live amongst the, you know, the working class and the working class live amongst of superstars. And sometimes there's some blurred lines as to who's who in Nashville in a different way than L.A., you know, everyone still ends up as Santa's or whatever, winners and losers. Yeah. You know, they still end up at those same bars. They still at the same parties.

And sometimes people kind of respect each other's work, even if they don't necessarily, more so than their success. Yeah. This is in certain pockets, you know, which it leads me to, you know, through 2004 to 2017 when you start recording Golden Hour. You know, Chris Allen was big when he won American Idol. and you had a few of these names of people that we know and some like flashes of stuff. But how do you meet Casey Musgraves who had just come off of, you know, two major albums?

Yeah. You know, had really become the sort of the future of country music. How does Casey, how do you meet Casey Musgraves? I think I met her at a backyard party at a house that she was living in in East Nashville, somewhere just before her first, around the time that her first album came out. And that was at a time where I'd become friends with John and T.J. Osborne, Brothers Osborne. I had met Marin Morris. And there was just, and Lucy Silvis and some of these people,

there was kind of this, you know, community of people that were all like at the beginning. of their career. And even though I had kind of been around for a little bit longer in some ways, I was still just like getting, I think it was around the time my first publishing deal. So it was like a lot of beginnings. And I remember she played, there was like a little campfire. I think it was being filmed for something. I don't know if it was an official thing or not.

But it was kind of a backyard hang. And she played Follow Your Arrow. And I was like, wow, you know, this is the type of person. This is the type of music, type of artists where if I ever had the opportunity to get in the studio with, like, that would be pretty great. I think we would do something cool. And then I played on her second album on pageant material. I was like, I was a session player as a keyboard player. And it turns out like keyboards were not needed on that album.

So there's not much evidence of the time that I spent hanging around, which I thought at the time was like, well, that was really cool to get that call. At the time, I think I was trying to sign a publishing deal with Luke Blair, like, he was producing. And I really wanted to, like, I think that was around the time that I was looking for a publishing deal. And I was like, oh, well, maybe I'll end up working with Luke. And maybe this will be an opportunity to, you know, do more music with Casey and all these people. and Shane McAnally and all these amazing people and then like none of the work I did on the album really ended up except for a couple things

and I didn't get the publisher I went somewhere else and so I kind of thought maybe that was it and then really kind of out of the blue her publisher called and asked about setting up a write like a year or so later ago and I just the answer was yeah

yeah Alicia Pruitt and And I had an instinct to invite my friend Daniel, Tashen, who I had been making some music with. And I had just honestly looked up to as a brother and as like a mentor and somebody I just really admired for a long time. And I had an instinct to include him on that first co-write that we did. And that was a good instinct because, yeah, we just, it was really easy, really quick. What's the first song you guys wrote together? It's called, oh, what a world.

And really, like, unusually for our process since then, like, Daniel had kind of a track, kind of a song start going. And since then, rarely has that, like, led to a song. It's been much more like pen and paper, piano, guitar. But he had that going. And she was like, let's mess around with boat coders. And I was like, what? And then we had, like, a little drum machine going.

And all of these things, it seemed almost more like an experiment than a co-write, if that makes sense. I mean, the whole album is that. Yeah. So it's fitting that that was the song that, you know, it's like, let's just do all these. Let's do everything we've never done before. Like, hey, all those keyboards that you were trying to get into my last album, like, yeah, sure. Yeah, green light synthesizers. Cool.

Let's go. And of course, she had like a lot of great. as far as a title and topic and Daniel and her both are wizards lyrically and melodically. So I honestly was just trying to not mess it up. You know, I was just trying to keep it on the rails and we finished that song that day. And really, I'd say 90% of that what's on the record is from like that demo that day. So, including the logic, there's like stock logic base and drum machine things on there. It's like, if we pulled it up right now, I could probably find those sounds.

Muted bass, I think, is the bass. It's so good. It is. First of all, I know that album backwards and forth. It's so phenomenal that when it won, it was a moment for it. the music industry, I think, to certainly, I think, artists within Nashville, it gave license. It was what you said, where starting to create music for what you like and not what other people like, that's the pinnacle of that.

It's so much of that that there are all the other work, so much work that you've done since then are artists who got to finally explore themselves, whether it's the Maggie Rogers stuff, the Brett Eldridge stuff, the stuff that comes later, comes partly because it made a splash because we all needed that fresh air. It's so copy and paste right now

that you say the stock logic stuff, but to be honest, most people aren't using that right now. So it becomes unique, and the fact that it's contrary because of how accessible it is, you know, but like,

I made the joke in the intro about drum tones and you and I are just meeting, but I'm, anybody who knows any of those songs, those super dry drums, that is, I don't want to say it's like a signature, but it became something that now

so many artists after that album, them. We're like, oh, you know, I mean, you saw my drum kit in there probably like, ah, that's refreshing. Yeah. Like all of us have our, you know, we all deaden our drum kits because it just sounds better. Yeah. It's clearer. It's intentional. It's intimate, but it's not small. Those two things can be, you know. Mm-hmm. Well, and just to speak to that point was like for any nerds out there. I think like I've always kind of been, I play the drums pretty quietly. and then you have somebody mixing like Sean Everett who kind of like really gasses things.

So there's like this weird mixture of like sensitivity and then like explosion, if that makes sense. Like something in what you were just describing made me think of that. But I think there's an intimacy to that album. But there's also kind of a surreal and. expansive feeling at the same time, which I think is a hard. Yeah. That's a hard combination of feelings to to excite, you know. Standing on the stage at the Grammys, you're winning this,

you know, the award. Did you finally satisfy the, that what you thought success was for a 20-year-old? I mean, that's a tough question. Yeah. think in a way that that was a crazy experience because a lot of what I remember a lot of what I remember from what that day was like was how terrifying it was to perform we did we played rainbow and we played it live and it was just you know piano vocal and kind of like when I think

about that day I think about like me going this is so amazing and I hope I never have to do this again like like just being so nervous i was really really nervous and i i i felt pretty certain that we were going to win the country album because at that point like a lot of things had had gone our way in that way but i didn't i wasn't expecting the album the year and um i just felt uh yeah i i guess i did feel validated that um that it pays off to like stick to what you like you know like to be recognized for an album that was made to be enjoyed by the people that were making it and just so happened to be enjoyed by a lot of other people was like a really important lesson for me to learn kind of going back to what I was saying earlier about like

expectations of what people are going to like that was not made based off of what we thought people were going to like in fact when we turned it in the label was like this is really artsy and interesting. Like, we don't know what to do with this. And no shade to them. It's just like it wasn't manufactured in a way that was like consumer-minded. It was made. I don't think they changed their perspective either.

That's true. You know, like they not only reacted that way when they heard it, but they didn't sudden, you know, just because you write music doesn't mean you're entitled to make money. Just because you record music. release music, doesn't mean people have to listen to it. It doesn't, you know, there's no guarantee, but by releasing something that fans liked, that can change the trajectory.

True. If the, you know, that album is successful in spite of the powers at be. Totally. It's not like country radio. It's like, let's blast this airwaves. Oh, no, yeah. It never received any. Radio and I think that it was...

Do you feel like at that point, because I know we'll skip forward a little bit soon, but you receive all the accolades you want, lowercase you, you win all the awards. And I imagine it was commercially successful to an extent, you know. Did you feel like the lack of certain kinds of commercial success was... heavy or did you not care? Because you've got guys in Nashville. Yeah. With their however many of 30 number ones. Yeah. Yeah. You know that you're like that aren't standing on stage for album of the year. Yeah. Do you feel like, you know, is there a back alley, you know, knife fight between producers in Nashville like, I want credibility. I want hits. Yeah.

Like, you know. That's funny. Now, I mean, I genuinely. I genuinely felt like everybody in Nashville, like, you know, songwriters, producers, musicians, like, everybody had our backs. Like, I really did have an overwhelming sense of, like, community. And I did, you know, I remember hearing a lot of people say, oh, this is changing country music and wondering kind of like if that was going to be the case. If I was going to start making a lot of country albums. And turns out, like, yeah, I didn't. made a Brett Aldridge album, Little Big Town, some other things. But like most of the opportunities and interests that I experienced after that were coming from outside of Nashville, like from here or from London or from.

Harry Styles. I mean, look, Marin was at that point had become Marin. Yeah. You know? So it's like you definitely were getting hit up by some pretty significant artists to do your thing on it. to answer your question, like, do I wish, if this is what you're saying, do I wish that it had been more on the radio? I do, sure. You know, like, I love, I love hearing a song that I've worked on, like, on the radio or at Target. Like, that's a great feeling. But I think it also, and I guess

maybe the part that I wrestled with a little bit was like, is this just like a fluke? Was this just like a flash in the pan. Was this something that was really nice that only happens once? And I'm still not sure about that. I don't know, but I do know that it has given me, it has opened up opportunity for me to work with people who are just trying to really to make great music. And some of that may be successful in some degree and some of it may not. And I think I've, it definitely, I've had to like, kind of reassess like what that kind of recognition does to your ego and what it makes you think about yourself. And I, you know, I absolutely to a degree got, became really self-aware after that. And I've had to kind of really wind that back, you know. I don't, hopefully

didn't mean I started treating everybody like an asshole. But I think it, I did think about myself a lot more after there was that kind of recognition. And I've had to go, man, I don't really love the way that that feels. I've got some work to do. And so I think that's kind of where I'm at right now. You do, though, and then ringing the bell when you start working with Stephen Sanchez much later. I mean, not much later.

But COVID happens. You're still doing albums, like you said, Brett Aldrich. and they shout out to Sean McConnell. Oh, man. Greatest voice in a long time. He's amazing. Haven't seen him in years. But, you know, you do start working at the after COVID that, you know, like, you end up with sort of a string of some pops up that's really like progressive.

Yeah. Considering how retro it is, you know. But the Stephen Sanchez song, you know, until I found you, it's just a huge production. Mm-hmm. It's so big. Does that satisfy having, you know, the commercial success that, you know, does that tie a bow around everything? That's an interesting question too because that was such an unexpected. Again, I guess it just, it is a reminder that when things like that happen, it's not because I've orchestrated them. It's because there's, you know, certain timings and people and places have lined up. I mean, that was in between an EP that we made. I think we recorded. It took us maybe an hour to, I mean, there's really,

that's like bass, drums, guitar, maybe one other element. But I didn't, I've spent very little time on that song, you know. And then it was like, whoa, all of a sudden it's, it's exploding. And then exploding again and again and again. And it just, I was like, really, this is happening? I didn't, it's not that it wasn't a good song. It's not that he's not amazing. He absolutely is amazing. He's incredible, actually.

But yeah, it did. I guess that when I think about it that way, it was nice to, it's always nice to have something do well. But again, it just, it didn't necessarily solve any problems in my mind as to like, how to do that again or like what, you know, how to keep it going. I'm just like, I have no idea. That's a good example. I worked with Stephen recently and he is a joy to work with.

And he's got some big plans as an artist that's exciting. So, you know, you seem to curate a discography that is artistically exciting. Is that by chance or does it just, do you curate your discography? or does your discography curate you? I definitely, I'm learning to say no to things. So in that way, I do have some agency with my discography, but I more so feel like I've been just really fortunate, like that I have been, that good music begets more good music

and the people that resonate with the things that I was lucky enough to do earlier on that have some value and some quality to them, like that's going to attract people that want to, you know, obviously good is so subjective, good music, what is that? But, but music that has like heart and like, is that good music? For me, it is, yeah, music that feels like it's alive, that it feels like it's been cared for. And that doesn't necessarily mean it spent a lot of time on, you know, but, yeah. I think that is what good music is.

It's pretty crazy the year that you are, you know, you're here this week and not, you know, I know this interview will likely come out later than today. And this weekend will be the Grammys. So we will find out more about how this year is, you know, how you're being honored this year. But the amount of things that, again, probably out of your control as far as when things get released who you get to work with. But what a year, man. I mean, obviously Stephen still rolling over, but role model, you know, having a moment, Maggie Rogers having her moment, Casey Musgraves again in diving deeper with her, you know, and of course, Beyonce. I mean, now have you made it?

I mean, I will say like I have had a dream of like at least just being nominated for the producer of the year at the Grammys. That's something I've thought in my mind, man, that would be really cool. And I didn't see that coming necessarily this year. I think that category is incredible. Everybody in there, I'm a huge fan of. So it's just, it feels like a milestone to just be honored. in that way. And it's a result of everything that we've just been talking about it. To me,

it's not like one year that was better than others. It's kind of like I feel like it's just acknowledging that I've been really working hard for a long time. That's how it feels. It's like, yeah, to have all of those records kind of coincide. It's not planned. It's just like after the pandemic, I went really hard. Yeah, I was just, I was traveling a lot. I was pouring myself. And I actually had to like learn a lot of hard lessons through all that too. Like I'm, I've had to do a lot of work this year to take care of myself. Like what? Well, I just, I was traveling a lot. I was, I was, um, I was escaping a lot. I'm like about nine months into recovery right now. And that's kind of just, that's like number one now is just how do you feel i feel a lot better i feel a lot more um

i'm beginning to know what like actual peace and actual serenity is like i spent a lot of time gaining knowledge and awareness like books and therapy and travel and all of the things the trying to learn about myself but i wasn't um only just now kind of learning how to reverse engineer, like, core ways of thinking and viewing the world. And that, I feel like I hope is going to lead me into whatever this next phase of life is and hopefully make me better at what I do. I don't know. Maybe I'll start making really terrible music.

I was going to ask, how does sobriety help or hurt creativity? So far, I've, I took a lot of time. off over the summer, to be honest. And it was then it's made me a lot more choosy about the way that I'm spending time. It's made me, it's introduced boundaries for me in terms of like how long I work and where and it's created balance. And just recently, I found myself just having a noticeable degree of more fun. I thought I was having a lot of fun beforehand. But I really wasn't. I was I was kind of I was disassociating. I was I was kind of creating this barrier from what I was really experiencing and then trying to view it from a from a almost like a

third party and now that I'm actually just here and experiencing what it's actually happening. Imagine that. It turns out like I think I was like playing drums the other day and I was like I actually feel like I'm doing this better and I'm and I'm able to like give more of my consciousness to this and not I had a lot of fear I think I think I wanted a lot of fear driving trying to succeed trying to appear to be a certain way and I'm trying to like I'm trying to yeah distance myself or have a better relationship with fear in general fear can be a really healthy emotion when it's trying to protect you but it's also super destructive so Is it useful? Is fear a useful tool in making music?

That's a great question. I think in a way, yes, I feel like it's good to present, to step into challenges like, oh, I don't know how to make this kind of music. What if it's not good? If I decide, well, I'm not even to try, then that's that. So that in a way, I think is a healthy use. of fear. But if the fear is like, what are people going to think of me if I do this, then that's no good. Yeah, a friend of mine put up content two days ago. And I called him and I was like,

hey, congratulations for putting that up. That was, that was, I really respect you for putting that out there. And he said that he woke up and was like, I need to delete this right now. And your call is going to make me keep this up. I was like, yeah, because vulnerability is our currency in 2025. And here you're saying your whole career is if I like it, other people will like it too. And there's a rub there because that, the more vulnerable you are, the scarier it is. but the more likely other, you know, other people will relate to it because they're like, I can be vulnerable too.

Mm-hmm. You know, it was the license that you gave not just country music, but so much of the industry by being like, no, no, this is good. This is also, this is good and other people will like this if you do this too. And so I'm glad that these things are lining up for you. I was just going to say, I think that that's in spite of my. myself, you know, that that was, that means a lot for me to hear you say that because it reminds me that it wasn't just me doing that, you know, it was like all amazing people that I was

working with and I was doing my best. I did, I was doing the best with what I knew how to do at the time. And so I am proud of that. But at the same time, I'm like these things or essences or principles or ideas that I could maybe like articulate verbally for other people or outwardly, I'm starting to kind of learn for myself to take my own advice, so to speak, you know. I have to ask, you know, in this year where you're getting honored like this for 70 cuts or something crazy like that in the last year, some outlandish number. We are in an industry where one of the issues that songwriters currently have is dilest, our copyrights from within.

People talk about Spotify, DSPs should be paying songwriters more. They would be paying songwriters more if there were fewer people on songs that didn't write songs. Right. And until we as an industry start saying the truth, which is that until songwriters start saying no,

we will continue to be in a place where our assets will get pillaged it will disintegrate our business and it isn't just the DSPs, it isn't just record labels, it's the fact that we as a songwriting community are neutered because we don't have a union and we're not allowed to collectively speak out against some of these people who've done call yourself a songwriter and not being a songwriter to take our publishing and then eventually sell their publishing is just extortion and should be something that we as an industry should collectively be able to protect yeah that's what i have to say about Don't edit that out. You can print that.

Yeah. That said, let's go with some basic things that might be fun. Like what's a session you'll never forget and why? Session I'll never forget. Do, like a songwriting session or just any session in general? Hmm. That's a good one. Well, I guess one session would be the day that we wrote this song, Mother and Slow Burn.

It was kind of a two-for-one day. And I guess maybe one and a half because Mother is like a super short song. But we were like, we were almost done with Golden Hour. And I think we were just trying to squeeze the lemon. We were just seeing what else was there. And she had that title, Slow Burn. and Daniel and I started playing this kind of like Neil Young type feel thing. And I got behind the drums and playing acoustic.

And I'll never forget him singing that first octave jump in the chorus. And I just kind of like kind of feel chills thinking about it now. And having that song come together. And it originally was going to be like the last, it was the last song written for the record. So naturally at that point, we're like, oh, that would be a cool way for the record to end. And just having the experience of like having one more just really special song come after you've been working really hard. And just out of the sheer curiosity of exploring and creating, it's like at that point, we already knew like we're really on to something.

We've got a great album. But let's just keep going and that the power of keeping going. And yeah, to have that song come and also like this really poignant, like, short memo of a song with Mother that was really beautiful. To have that all happen on the same day at the very end of like just a lot of fun making that album was unforgettable. In theater, you're not supposed to write your opening song until the show's done. I think we all write our opening song A lot of times people have their opening song that it stays But you really can refine your thesis at the end

So for the last thing that you did to be slow burn That makes sense It makes a lot of sense I'm gonna do a five for five minutes Just those five things tell me what comes out the top of your head Got it Let's start with Luke Laird, why not Amazing work ethic

Just writes a song every day as far as I know and rain or shine just amazing sweet guy and still just at the top of his game i mean he's he's a true songwriter and he loves country music i feel like he is just he could write a book on country music that's how i feel about him and amazing dad a lot of character i really look up to luke Casey Musgraze. Visionary, perfectionist, detail-oriented, hyper-focused listening, and amazing work ethic. And, yeah.

I mean, Daniel. Daniel's a sage. He's my brother. He's been with me through so much. And he changed my life when I heard his first album, The Silver Seas, Starry Gaze Pie. It's one of the best albums of all time. And it made me want to make music even more than I already did at the time, which was a lot. And he, again, just he's a day in, day out, creative wizard that just an insatiable curiosity and a very deep heart.

Your daughter. Fierce. She's a, she's, she, is determined she is empathetic and wildly creative and it's amazing to see her becoming an adult right now she's 18 she just turned 18 crazy can't believe it your son so smart so talented and just he's been my buddy we've been hang gliding we've been skydiving we've been skydiving we've been bike riding. We like adventure together and he's, I look forward to all the adventures that we get to take in the future. Those would be all five, but I got to go with the six, the snare drum. Sugar, sugar, sugar percussion, black cherry, I think. And that guy, that snare drum was sent to me as a gift when he was just starting out. He was just like, I'm just trying to get people to try these

snare drums out and somebody gave me your name. Can I send you one? I was like, sure. And I'm not a gear guy. I'm just like, this guy's giving me a snare drum. Cool. And so I started using it. I used it actually on the James Bay album was like a lot of people were like, oh, that snare drum sounds great. So I kept using it and then people liked it even more. So I use it all the time. Yeah, well, James Bay, two time and the writer is alone. Oh, really? Yeah. You know, I think, first of all, thank you for doing this, especially this week. I know that this is exciting for you coming to L.A. with all this. And so I appreciate you stopping by. And one thing that you said, I think when people think of backyard parties in Nashville,

they think of it as being something other than what it really is, which is like, this is like a backyard backyard, like a regular backyard. And there's a porch in the East Nashville backyards. I remember hanging with Lucy and the brother's Osborne. And fancy was part of that crew. And Casey, I met because, you know, Adam Olendorf? Yes, of course. Adam taught me how to play guitar. We grew up on the same street.

Shout out, Adam. You know, that crew would literally, it would be just a backyard. And, you know, Marin is a really cool person. These are just cool people. And this is what you get when you move to Nashville. You find your crew and you make music with that crew. And you too can be nominated for producer with year. It's that easy.

So congratulations. I'm so happy that we are friends now. Me too, Ross. Thank you. This was awesome. Appreciate it. We hope you enjoyed this episode. It was produced by me and Joe London in association with Mega House Music Group.

If you like this episode, go give us a rating at wherever you live. listen to your podcast. And make sure to follow us at And The Writer is on all your socials. We'll see you next week.