People ask me all the time… “What kind of music do you write?” I never know how to answer. Because I don’t choose the genre. The song does. Every song begins the same way. Not with a guitar. Not with a melody. Not with a beat. It begins with a feeling. If I’m carrying pain, it finds the blues. If I’m full of hope, it leans toward soul. If life has knocked me down and I’m still standing, it may become rock. If my heart is searching for something greater, it becomes gospel. Some stories only belong to one voice. A lonely blues can’t pretend to be a smiling rockabilly tune. That would be like laughing at your own tears. But so many songs… So many songs can change their clothes. The same words can live inside an acoustic guitar… Then wake up with a Hammond organ, a string section, a choir… Or roar through a wall of electric guitars. And somehow… They’re still the same song. Because the music isn’t the truth. The feeling is. The genre is only the language the heart chooses to speak today. Tomorrow… The very same song may tell its story with a different voice. And that’s the beautiful thing about music. A great song never belongs to one genre. It belongs… To the people who feel it.
