"A song can be a lifeline, when you're sinking."

I was born in Asheville, North Carolina, in 1985, with one foot in the Appalachian folk tradition and the other in the outlaw country records my dad played around the house. By the time I was a teenager, I was trading bootlegged cassettes of underground rock with friends, soaking in every sound I could.

At eighteen I left home with more questions than answers and spent the better part of my twenties drifting across the South and Midwest. I worked odd jobs in coal towns, slept in some rough places, and played guitar whenever I could. Those restless years carved out the voice I carry now—plainspoken, a little rough around the edges, but always searching for some kind of truth.

In 2014 I self-released Rust Belt Hymns, a collection of songs that caught on locally before finding their way into the hands of indie labels. That record taught me that music doesn’t need polish to cut deep.

My songs live somewhere between anger and tenderness, weariness and fire. The latest single, Angry Young Man, might be my sharpest reflection of that balance: it’s about rage and alienation.  Even those who society discards have a story to tell.  I may not bring them redemption in the telling, but I’ll keep on writing songs to try.  

—Michael Suttree