photos / Angela Ricciardi
story / Emily Treadgold
Windser’s world is a dreamy slice of Los Angeles, a sunlit mid-century cabin, and a restored ’94 Ford F150 XLT nicknamed “Goldie,” where he tests out his songs on long drives. “Something about old things that have their own story is inspiring to me. Something that’s lived in and patinaed over time. That scratches an itch for me creatively,” he explains. There’s a certain romanticism that comes with Winder’s music, soft but poignant, nostalgic but not dated. His debut eponymous album is filled with that sun-soaked sound and songs about yearning and trauma-laced ribbons of golden love.
He draws inspiration from being in nature and those long sunset drives. He says, “I like going to Northern California, where I’m from originally, to see a lot of the visuals because it just makes me feel really calm. And I’m able to express myself creatively in these really calm, serene places.”
The album started with 30 songs that he whittled down to a perfect portion with the help of a group of studio musicians that felt like a musical conversation that ebbed and flowed into the final project. He says, “I had the luxury of being able to play with these musicians who are way better than me. They hadn’t heard the songs until they got to the studio, which was crazy. We played them the song once or twice, then we go into the room and hit record. It just blew my mind.”
That meeting of the minds gave the album an organic, intimate feel that resonates through each track, and Windser doesn’t shy away from his vulnerable parts; he digs deep and casts them out. In “Abandon,” he sings, “You’re just some apparition, some ephemeral little vision in my brain, in my eyes, behind my skull, there you go. You’re some flashing light out the window, I can’t feel you around me anymore.” Instantly cutting deep, the pain is palpable. He shares, “I was reckoning with a lot of childhood trauma I had, like my relationship with my father, really thinking about that because I’d been going to therapy for a year leading up to making the album, and some stories from my childhood came to the surface.”
The catalog of songs still has those rays of light bringing you out of the darkness, finding healing in love songs, stability, and acceptance. The standout song “Shut Up and Kiss Me” is a tribute to his wife, showcasing an enduring love that Windser beams about, “We’ve been together for 10 years in June. My parents got divorced. On my first day of kindergarten, they signed the divorce papers. So I think my whole life, I’ve always just wanted a stable relationship. Because of this lifestyle of being a touring musician, you’re always bouncing around. So it’s nice to come home and have some stability.” While he initially thought the song would sound out of place, maybe overly romantic or cheesy, the song is sweet and has these 50s vintage vibes that feel comforting, and we’re living in a time where comfort and sweetness are very much needed; it’s refreshing.
When it comes to musical inspiration and remaining authentic, Windser stays true to his artistry by not comparing; his sound is for him. “I feel like once something’s popular, it’s already done. If artists who were feeling insecure about what they do recognize that, I think they’d feel a lot more comfortable,” he shares, “I don’t know how to chase what someone else is doing because that’s already had its moment.” He was drawn to Band of Horses and ’50s music, finding references that resonate with him, not chasing a trend.
He loves the unpolishedness of music and the honesty of playing live. “I’d like to see some more stuff that’s less polished. Everything is really nicely packaged right now, especially in pop music,” he emphasizes, “Last summer, it was like everything was just nicely buttoned up and shiny. I want to hear some more homemade stuff. I love it when I hear a recording in a studio that’s a band and not just a laptop.” And he’s bringing that authenticity out full force, not only in the recording process but in the shows. Breaking through the oversaturation and the constant noise online. He says, “I think touring is a space where– and shows are a space where people can just let loose, and they don’t have to worry about– they’re choosing to be there, and they don’t have to worry about being told that they need to subscribe to this thing or that they have to do this thing.”
Windser’s live shows are a break from the online gurus and the feeling that you need to fix something. “I think people are just beautiful the way they are, too. And it’s okay to be imperfect. But I feel like we’re in this era of just constant self-improvement,” he reiterates. He wants that vulnerability to shine through, and this project was an emotional one. He explains, “I think the more that I lean into being vulnerable and open about my life and things that happen to me, the more creative I get and the more interesting the music gets.”
He references the David Bowie quote, “If you feel safe in the area you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.” That’s how this album feels, excitingly vulnerable, an emotional road trip with no destination in mind, just driving down empty roads to feel something and discovering yourself along the way.
“I just wanted to be like a companion on a lonesome road trip,” he says, “Writing these songs is just a way for me to feel less alone in the feelings I have about my relationship with my family and growing up and life. I think the album is a companion for those who feel alone in their thoughts and feelings.”