country girl

Brooklyn, the first week of September. It’s hot outside and you’ve been biking around all day. There’s a sunburn on your cheek, but it doesn’t hurt. You signal and turn into Prospect Park. The tiny speaker on the back of your bike is playing Sheryl Crow’s “Soak Up the Sun.” You smell salty and you feel sweaty. You know that in a few hours, you’ll be at your on-and-off again’s apartment, drinking a beer on their fire escape. It’s one of the last days of the year that will feel this way, so you luxuriate in it. You think: right now, in this moment, it will always be just like this. I will always feel this alive. 

country girl spent his childhood studying classical flute and composition, homeschooled and sequestered away from contemporary music until his late teens, influenced instead by the lush textures of Maurice Ravel and Steve Reich. He started listening to pop music in college. His aesthetic interests shifted. He bought an acoustic guitar and began making demos. And via a deep meditation practice and newfound reverence for nature, he became country girl.