Tony Mantor's : Almost Live..... Nashville

Tenille Towns: Music, Independence, and Honesty in songwriting

31 min
Mar 31, 20262 months ago
Listen to Episode
Summary

Tenille Towns discusses her journey from a small town in Alberta, Canada to Nashville, her experience with major label deals at Sony Nashville, and her return to independence with her new album 'The Acrobat.' She explores how stepping away from industry pressures allowed her to reconnect with authentic songwriting and mental health recovery.

Insights
  • Major label success can create identity confusion where career achievements become conflated with self-worth, requiring deliberate mental health work to separate the two
  • Creative autonomy and independence can be more valuable than commercial validation, especially when the latter creates unsustainable expectations and internal pressure
  • Vulnerability in songwriting creates deeper audience connection than polished commercial content, with listeners responding to honesty about struggle and pain
  • The 'hedonic treadmill' effect in music careers—where each achievement raises the bar rather than providing satisfaction—can lead to burnout and depression without intentional perspective shifts
  • Community and audience feedback serve as courage-building mechanisms that help artists overcome fear of sharing deeply personal material
Trends
Artist departure from major labels to independent status for creative control and mental healthVulnerability and mental health transparency becoming competitive advantages in artist brandingSongwriting as therapeutic tool for both creator and listener in processing trauma and difficult emotionsSmall-town artists leveraging hometown community as foundation for sustainable career motivationPost-pandemic shift in artist priorities from external validation metrics to internal fulfillment and authenticityTherapy and medication normalization in artist wellness conversationsDirect artist-to-fan communication channels replacing traditional label-mediated relationshipsStorytelling and observer perspective as differentiation strategy in crowded music market
Topics
Independent artist strategy and label negotiationsMental health in music industry (depression, therapy, medication)Songwriting craft and creative autonomyArtist identity and self-worth separation from career successVulnerability in songwriting and audience connectionSmall-town to major city career transitionsMusic touring and road life challengesFan engagement and direct communicationAlbum production and creative controlHedonic adaptation in achievement-oriented careersStorytelling techniques in songwritingCanadian music industry and artist developmentRecord label relationships and creative differencesArtist burnout and recoveryCommunity building in music careers
Companies
Sony Nashville
Tenille Towns signed a record deal with Sony Nashville and released music for approximately 8 years before parting ways
People
Tenille Towns
Canadian singer-songwriter discussing her journey from major label to independence, songwriting philosophy, and menta...
Tony Mantor
Host conducting interview with Tenille Towns about her music career and songwriting journey
Shania Twain
Cited as childhood musical influence that Tenille listened to with her mother
Dolly Parton
Cited as childhood musical influence and dream duet partner for Tenille Towns
Malcolm Gladwell
Tenille's father is a fan; 10,000 hours concept influenced her decision to pursue music instead of college
Celine Dion
Tenille performed 'My Heart Will Go On' as one of her first public performances at age five
Laurie McKenna
Tenille cited her song 'All The Time I Wasted On You' as a lyric she wishes she had written
Billie Holiday
Tenille cited as dream duet partner and musical influence
Frank Sinatra
Tenille cited as dream duet partner
Noah Kahn
Tenille cited as artist she would love to collaborate with
Quotes
"I feel like the return to self in autonomy. We're going to get back to this in a minute, but you just brought something up that I just have to ask."
Tenille Towns~45:00
"I hope they feel a little less alone. That's always my mission in creating music is to hope that anybody hearing this would be like, oh, she felt that way too."
Tenille Towns~55:00
"I think if you dig in deeper in either direction, it's just making more room in yourself to like understand other human beings and eventually experience more love."
Tenille Towns~70:00
"What we do does not equal who we are. And it's like I had to kind of like be like, this is a tank that will never actually be filled."
Tenille Towns~40:00
"It was probably a year into stepping off the hamster wheel, and it was a painful year of being home. To be honest, I really struggled with being home and being still."
Tenille Towns~50:00
Full Transcript
My career in the entertainment industry has enabled me to work with a diverse range of talent. Through my years of experience, I've recognized two essential aspects. Industry professionals, whether famous stars or behind the scenes staff have fascinating stories to tell. Secondly, audiences are eager to listen to these stories which offer a glimpse into their lives and the evolution of their life stories. This podcast aims to share these narratives, providing information on how they evolved into their chosen career. We will delve into their journey to stardom, discuss their struggles and successes, and hear from people who helped them achieve their goals. Get ready for intriguing behind the scenes stories and insights into the fascinating world of entertainment. Today is Taneel Towns. She came to Nashville from Alberta, Canada with a guitar, a dream, and a gift for writing songs that make you stop and listen. Her breakout hit, Somebody's Daughter, connected with millions of people because it reminded us that everyone has a story that matters. She's an ACM New Female Artist of the Year, a Juno Award winner, and one of the most respected young songwriters in Nashville today. She has a great story to tell us, so before we dive into our episode, we'll be back with an uninterrupted show right after a word from our sponsors. Thanks for joining us today. Well good. Thanks for taking the time to chat today. Oh, it's my pleasure. If you would, give us a little information on what you've been up to lately. Okay, well, my name is Taneel Towns, and I'm a singer-songwriter originally from northern Alberta, Canada. Just a short 47-hour drive from here in Nashville, Tennessee, and I love to write songs and tour around and play them for people. And I'm working on a new record right now. It comes out on April 10th, which I'm so excited about, called The Acrobat. And it's my return to being an independent artist and kind of going back to that creative autonomy, finding my footing again. And I produced this record myself just sitting right here in this little music room. I played everything and I'm just like really proud of how it turned out. It's getting back to the truth of the matter and songs that I just really love. So yeah. You mentioned that you're back to being an independent again. Can you tell us a little bit about that journey? Yeah, so when I first got to town, that was, you know, my entire kind of mission was just figuring out how to make the dream happen. I grew up being inspired by lots of different artists and drove around listening to like Shania Twain with my mom as a kid and a little more rock and roll with my dad and like songwriters like Dolly Parton with my grandparents and just kind of like felt this calling to be able to tell stories through music and this kind of feisty energy to make it happen. And I moved to Nashville kind of convincing my parents I wasn't going to college. I feel like that was like the center of my independent artist beginning. I was like, okay, I'm not going to school. So here's my pitch to get my 10,000 hours. And you know, my dad is a big Malcolm Gladwell fan. So I was just like telling him why I wasn't going to school and how I was going to tour across Canada and make it happen and then move to Nashville. And I did all those things and I got here and the goal was to like build this team to be able to support this, you know, bigger vision to keep growing the music. And I had an amazing experience working with so many awesome people. I eventually signed a publishing deal and I got a record deal at Sony Nashville and we had a good run. It was like almost eight years of putting music out together and then it kind of got to this place where creatively I just felt like I wasn't getting the green lights to keep sharing things. So I went back to going, okay, I think what if we just like parted ways and got fresh start. So I feel like a return to that kind of feisty energy again. I'm just figuring out how to make it happen. You mentioned growing up in a little town in Canada. And I can relate 100% with that because I'm from a little town in Maine. So I know the answer to this, but I have to ask you anyways, what was one of the bigger challenges you faced moving from a small town to Nashville? Yeah, well, my town is called Grand Prairie in northern Alberta and it is very like, it is very literally Grand Prairie. It's like it's a lot of sky. It's so much blue sky. I used to take walks or ride my bike as a kid and you look up and it's like you can almost see the particles moving because there's just like that much blue. And there's so much room to just kind of, I don't know, dream and imagine being anything because it's just everything was possible. And part of that was also, I feel like the community I was raised in and the family I was raised in, my parents were very much go-getters and we're just kind of like, you got to make it happen. My community really showed up for one another. I mean, I grew up playing at all kinds of different local fundraisers and benefits for different families going through different things. There's just like this neighborhood kind of community that made me believe that anything can happen when a group of people come together. And so I feel like that foundation jumping into the big city was like, whoa, this is a really big neighborhood. And at first I was quite homesick and kind of missing the grounded feeling of home. But it also like, it inspired me to create that here and to find that sense of community. So I do feel like I kind of took that with me. But that was a big change off the start for sure. I remember. Yeah, there's definitely a big difference between small town wherever and Nashville. That's right. Especially in the last 25 to 30 years, Nashville has really, really grown. So do you get a chance to go home quite a bit? I do. I mean, I always go back for Christmas. I don't get back that many times just because I do a lot of like touring up there. And so when we go up to play shows in different parts of Canada, I have lots of family that'll come out and join, which is great. So I love getting to see them out there. Canadian summers are pretty hard to beat. So I hope to get up there a little bit more this summer. But yeah, I make trips back and forth. What's it like going back? You were touring on a major label, releasing records. You were living the dream. So what was the response from the people when you went back to visit for a while? They were always excited for sure and wanting things to kind of always be the way they were. But they also like, I got to play the arena in my hometown last year, which was pretty wild. That was kind of a crazy full circle. I grew up singing the national anthem at all their local hockey games. And so to feel everybody showing back up, I feel like they feel like they're a part of it. You know, they were part of lifting the seed up from the ground at the beginning. And it always feels good to kind of come back around to that. So that was a really cool show. Now that you've had a major publishing deal, major label deal, touring, everything that goes along with it. Now you're back to an independent again. So how do you see your songwriting? When you first get a major publishing deal, there's expectations. Now that you can do what you want to do, you really can do what you want to do. How has your songwriting changed? Can you describe it? There's more freedom for sure. And there's less expectations from them, but also just from myself to really fit what might work in that kind of a system. And so kind of lifting off that ceiling is kind of like a return to the sky a little bit for sure. And some of these songs are newer that I wrote on this record that came from that kind of freedom. And some of them were songs that I actually wrote a long time ago that just didn't fit with what I was releasing at the time. And so it feels really good to circle back to some of those that always felt special to me and be able to give them a space to exist now. I think there's more freedom. I think this record in general has a theme of vulnerability, preciousness of time, and sort of this perspective of the torturous sides of actually learning to let go, which some of that was career experience wise, letting go of the relationship with the big team and the big system and these expectations of how things maybe could have unfolded and just sort of like surrendering to the truth that exists underneath that. And like, I just feel more peace and acceptance to like what this sees my life looks like. So yeah. I've noticed in your songs, you tend to be more of a storyteller. How is living in Canada living in Nashville? Can you see this journey has changed you into more of a storytelling songwriter? Hmm. Interesting. I think the essence of home and like home as a feeling, not so much as like a location, but like that home in yourself, like that I think is always what steers my writing the most. And so Canada would be a part of that perspective. And Nashville, I think the craft of songwriting and like the ability for this place to really kind of sharpen your arrow just by being around masters of craft and like studying and learning. I remember when I first got here, I was going out to writers around all the time and like just feeling so inspired, seeing so many great writers, you know, tell the stories behind their songs and what it was like when they first got to town. And like that was so encouraging to me and it made me go home after the show and like stay up for hours writing and finding my own voice and putting in more and more hours towards like trying to develop the craft of my voice as a writer. And so I think that really had an influence on it for sure. But I also think keeping hold of my favorite way to write songs is sort of the observer perspective to kind of like be that removed storyteller. And I feel like the more experience I got getting comfier in the last few years inside my own like self and digging into some things I never really acknowledged before in my past has kind of like opened things up to feeling more personal, I'd say, in my writing. I'm glad you brought that up. That was one of the things on my list to ask you. Your music kind of embodies musical honesty without losing strength. How do you decide what is sacred that you have to keep private and what is not that you can put out here for everybody to hear? Hmm. I feel like the songs and the music know when to like raise their hand and to push that envelope of the comfort zone more than I do. Because sometimes songs are terrifying to me to share. It's like, oh, this is really close to home and like kind of feels like you're like bearing your soul in this really scary way. But there's just like an internal compass feeling that I'm learning how to trust again where it's like, no, this is right. And I will say what encourages that compass is also hearing from people. I'm really grateful to the community of people who've seen us on the road opening for people or come to our own shows and have been listening to the music for a long time. And like to hear messages from them or stories about how a song connects in their life or how they're like, I have felt the same way. Like that gives me courage to be more honest and share more stories even when they scare me. So that helps a lot as far as the line of like what stays just for me and what I can hopefully feel brave enough to share with other people. Yeah. Now, I'm glad you brought up people connecting with you. When someone tells you that one of your songs help them get through a tough time. Number one, how does that make you feel? Then how does that change the way you may look at that particular song? Yeah, it really does kind of give it a whole new life. You know, I think in the writing process, there's a lot of it that feels internal and it's like the exhale is just putting it on the page. But I think when it actually becomes like a living, breathing thing is when someone else, you know, holds onto it with their own meaning. And then it's like, oh, now this is something we share. And it's like, it actually comes alive in a whole different way to me. It is an incredible honor to me to witness people's courage. Like, I have a few songs like Jersey on the Wall or Somebody's Daughter that talk about car accidents or homelessness and like topics that are hard to have a conversation. But when you can, I can kind of feel it almost happening when they're like looking at the floor coming up to me in a merch line after a show or something. It's like they're about to tell me something and it takes a lot of courage to talk about that. And it's like, it's such an honor to witness that courage. I feel like music helps us talk about things because a song sort of like opens up this door inside this room in our heart or something that's really terrifying to go in alone. And a song can kind of like get in there for us. And it just means the world when someone feels courage to come and talk to me and share what a song meant to them and that we can both go, okay, I see you. I have felt the same way you have and we can like stand together in this. Yeah, that's great. Now, your songs have a lot to do with hope. And of course, the listeners getting through their hard times. Now, let's reverse this a little to what gives you hope and what gets you through your hard times. That could be a tough day, tough week, a tough month. As many people might not know, this music business can knock you down in a heartbeat. Then you have to get up, dust off, move forward. So what gives you the strength to get through those rough times? Yeah, I'm actually sitting at my desk right now with these like cards that fans have made me that's like that I hold on to in moments when I am feeling a little lost. And it's been a quite a winding mental health journey for me, especially after, you know, the record deal parting. It was just kind of this feeling of now what and sort of this identity that gets it really attached to like what I do is who I am. And like just trying to like remove that a little bit and be like, no, no, we're all just like human beings. Like what we do is an extension of that, but it's not like everything that defines who we are. And I've struggled with that a lot in the past couple of years. So been like therapies helped a lot. Medication at one point with some depression stuff helped a lot. Getting outside and walking with my dog helps a lot. And then holding onto the stories that people have shared with me of like when you strip away all the noise and the things that are kind of hard and difficult. And like, you know, like, you know, you're kind of hard and disorienting in chasing a dream. Like when you kind of separate that all the way and just get back to like the joy of music for me and like how it makes me feel internally when I'm writing or sharing something that I love. It's like holding onto that in the whole circus of it all is what keeps me going for sure. Yeah. Now, if you look back at your catalog from the very beginning up until right now, not just musically, but personally as well. What do you see for growth? How have you seen yourself change and evolve? More comfort in my own skin. Okay. And I think more honesty about what's personally difficult for me. I think at first, especially as a newly signed artist, it was like, I didn't ever want to, you know, be negative or talk about what's hard about a dream. Like I get to be doing the thing I've always wanted to do. There can't be room or anything, you know, any complaining or any nature of what's difficult. And like, I think I've had this shift of perspective of like, no, that's what's real about being a human being is sharing the parts that hurt or that are hard. I think more growth in the courage to kind of share more of that. Yeah. When you look back to your very first days on the major label, you started to have some success. Did that change your relationship with your songwriting? Did you find you could be braver with your songwriting? Or did you feel like you had to be more careful? I think it was both things. First, certain seasons, I felt more pressure that I put on myself to like, okay, the bar is set. And like, these are the things that matter to me. And I got to keep raising this bar and growing. And some of that, I think was distracting. And then there's also parts of it where I'd get off stage from hearing a group of people singing back a second verse of a lyric that I'd written and, you know, really feeling those emotions with me. I get off and feel so much confidence to be able to go back in and write songs. So it was kind of both of those things at the same time, to be honest. Now you've written some songs. And as you earlier stated, you had fans that either wrote you a letter or email or contacted you. Because of the way that you write your songs, that tells me that some people would listen to it almost like you're writing a letter to them. Is there one song you can think of that was harder to release because it felt like it was that kind of a personal letter to someone? Hmm. There was a song, honestly, one of the more recent ones that I just put out called Enabling, which was a pretty like honest recounting of a conversation I had in a parking lot with someone that I loved and that was attempting an apology. And just sort of like really spelling out what that sort of toxic relationship was like. Like that was hard. That was, that was like that took a lot to talk about. But before that, I'd say my first experience of feeling that was a song called Villain and Me, where on an EP called Masquerades. And that whole theme of that record was kind of like putting aside the mask of optimism that I grew up so attached to and was such a big part of, you know, who I was. And for the first time, so started like kind of seeing things under the shiny like gloss that I had often put them on. And so that song, like that was my first experience doing that. And that song definitely felt terrifying. Yeah, I definitely can understand that. Now, over the years I've had people come, people go, they feel like they got here thinking what Nashville would be like. Then the reality of Nashville actually set in. It put this kind of fear in them because Nashville became real. The pressures, the management, the goals, the deadlines, the touring and everything that went along with it. Did any of that affect you along the way? Absolutely. I got very lost in a certain season. That's kind of what happened right before our parting ways with the label. To be honest, I was very confused and also just had this feeling of kind of personal emptiness. Like no matter what I was doing, I wasn't hitting the target that kind of just kept dancing around and had this sort of feeling of really losing, abandoning pieces, more and more pieces of myself in that process of trying to like get the bullseye. And it was like a couple years of unwinding from that, if I'm being honest, and making this record really helped me do that and kind of get back to the core of things. But it shook me up for a while for sure. And I do think that kind of like brought me to this awakening of going, hold on a second, like back to that. What we do does not equal who we are. And it's like I had to kind of like be like, this is a tank that will never actually be filled. It's just the bar keeps moving. It's like it was always a dream to go, okay, if we could get a couple of songs to hit in a way that we could afford to like, not to her in a van anymore and just get to the bus. And then it's like, you know, but then once you get in the bus, it's like, okay, if we could just get to the point of two buses and a couple trucks. And then once you get to the thing, it's just like the bar kind of keeps moving. And I was sort of witnessing friends of mine, you know, in a lot bigger spheres of experiencing some of the same emptiness. And I was just like, wait a second, this is like, this is like an identity thing that needs to shift. This is not like just a career bucket that has a hole in it, you know, that soul searching to me. It's like for a while I got lost in it and really had a hard time creating anything at all. Once I kind of found my footing again, it became a part of the fuel that I was able to create with. And that was really healing for me to be like, oh, I can actually talk about this or kind of let go of some of those people pleasing tendencies and feel like the tank isn't actually that empty anymore. And the other side of that feels really good. Yeah. Yeah. Now, if a person sits down, they've never heard of you and they hear your music for the very first time. What are you hoping that they take away from your music? Oh, great question. I hope they feel a little less alone. That's always my mission in creating music is to hope that anybody hearing this would be like, oh, she felt that way too. Okay. Well, we can feel like a little less alone in that together. So that's always kind of at the heart of my mission. That's a great mission. I have this little part of my podcast is called Between the Beats. Okay. Quick questions, no right or wrong answers. Okay, great. First song you ever performed in public. Ooh, I think it was Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Okay, good one. It was that or Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On, one of the other. I think I was like five. That's great. Now, a lyric you wish you had written. Hmm. There's, okay, I could list so many. I've been afraid of changing because I built my life around you from landslide would be one for sure. And then I think of this one song called All The Time I Wasted On You by Laurie McKenna, where she says, I could have dug out the Grand Canyon with a spoon for all the time I've wasted on you. I just love that one so much. Yeah, that's a great line. Coffee before writing, yes or no? No, I've actually never been a coffee person. Me too, me too. Oh, no way. That's awesome. I'm a tea girl. Yeah, you get a lot of strange looks when you say no coffee from me. It's incredibly offensive to lost people. Yeah. I'm glad I'm not the only one. You are not alone. I'm right there with you. The only time I'll make an exception is if we're touring overseas and I'm so lost in jet lag that I don't know what time it is and I need the caffeine to run. Then I'll maybe go for a coffee, but that takes extreme circumstances. Not even that for me. Yeah. A word that describes right where you are now. Ooh, I'm going to say autonomy. I feel more creative, autonomy, and what I'm making or what I'm experiencing, what I'm feeling feels like mine again, not like losing pieces of it to other people. I feel like the return to self in autonomy. We're going to get back to this in a minute, but you just brought something up that I just have to ask. Love it. So everyone here in Nashville is trying to live out their dream, get the concerts, get the labels, get everything working for them. They're always on edge, always pushing, never relaxing. When did you hit that point in time when you could take that breath and say, you know, it's okay. Yeah. It was probably a year into stepping off the hamster wheel, and it was a painful year of being home. To be honest, I really struggled with being home and being still because it was lonely and because it wasn't the high that I felt on the road playing shows, being around all this validation and this, you know, being on the road with my band and these people all the time. All of a sudden I'm just home doing laundry and just by myself and feeling like, what? This is like, it was such a high and then a low. And so when things started to slow down and I wasn't on the road as much, I was like, oh no. I just, I struggled with letting go of the hamster wheel for a long time, and that kind of dug me into quite a deep depression. And I think I felt the exhale eventually because I hit a rock bottom where I was like, okay, I think I had to kind of just sort of surrender this hamster wheel. I don't actually think I'm having fun running on this anymore. And that felt great, but it was didn't feel great for a really long time until it started to. Do you have that feeling right now where you can take that deep breath and say, you know, I've done what I've wanted to do. I've been on a major label. I've had records out there. I've toured. If it all stopped tomorrow, I can still be satisfied that I've done what I've wanted to do and move forward with my life. Absolutely. And I, that doesn't necessarily mean I have any lack of motivation. In fact, I just think I have it for the right reasons now. Like, I'm just like, it's back to the joy of it and more like what you're saying. I am really proud of what I've done. And if it all ended tomorrow, I would just be grinning ear to ear that I got to experience these pages of the dream and know what this felt like and to just like kind of like fall back and surrender into whatever the rest ends up looking like. Yeah, unfortunately, living in a small town has this ups and downs when it comes to people thinking that anyone can make it in this business. When you go back, you just go back for a short visit. Yeah. And sometimes they just do not understand that, hey, I'm doing exactly what I want to do here. Right. When you get to that level, there is a certain comfort level that you get. How long did it take you to get that comfort level where you did not have to sell yourself anymore? You just felt like, hey, everything's okay. Yeah. I think that's newer, to be honest. And I think I'm still settling into that because there's times where I'll be like, especially when people ask how you are, it's such an immediate response, I think. Maybe this is just how I'm wired or maybe this is like the achiever sort of mentality, but it's like the answer is sort of go back to like what I'm doing with music and how life is and how busy I am. And it's like, no, when someone asks you how they are, you can like talk about the fact that you're doing good and that you're enjoying learning how to cook things and like, you know, having fun with your dog and like just enjoying more of life. And like feels good to answer that question a little bit more that way these days. Yeah. I think that is a great way of looking at it. Everyone has had their ups and downs and I had mine. And now when people ask me how it's going, I just say, hey, it's okay. Right. It's a great response. Nothing wrong with that. Yeah, you don't have to explain anything. Just let them find out for themselves. Absolutely. I love that. That's awesome. Okay. Morning or midnight writer? Morning. Really? Yeah. I'm actually a really weird morning person. I wanted to start the day early. I love to go for a walk and kind of move my body and then enjoy the peace and like get creative. My brain is sharper in the morning. I will say occasionally there's sort of a subconscious surrender when you're just tired enough to pick up a guitar late at night where things are going to fall out that like thought is almost like moved out of the way. So I enjoy that every now and then for the most part on the morning writer. That's great because every singer songwriter that I know, it's like, don't call me in the morning. Yeah. That's why I do my podcast recording afternoons. Right. Most of the time they come back and say, I can't do it that early. I go, okay. That's so funny. No, I'm a morning person for sure. A song that still gives you chills when you perform it. Ooh. Well, I will say I have a song called Jersey on the Wall that was written from a true story of people in a really small town that had been through a hard car accident. Okay. And I was in a car with young kids from the high school and one of them passed away and they had her jersey hanging in memory on the school gymnasium wall. And so I wrote the song about that and the amount of people who come up to me and like tell me about people in their life that they lost too soon that that song makes them think of or they'll send in a story and a request. And so when I sing it, I always feel really present in like trying to lift up anyone in the room that people are thinking about. And like some kind of spiritual moment. So that always kind of has a way of not exactly chills, but kind of that feeling of like, okay, I'm surrendering to something in this. So I think that song always lifts me up in that way. Dream duet partner. Oh goodness. I mean, Dolly Parton, that'd be awesome. I also like absolutely love Noa Kahn. That would be amazing. Or like, give me like, you know, Billie Holiday or Frank Sinatra. Wow, Billie Holiday. Love her. Yeah, that'd be cool. Okay, if you weren't making music, what would you be doing? Probably still making music. I think I'd be a writer of some kind. Maybe I'd like open up a little flower shop slash music venue and still like be be hosting people coming in and playing. I don't know. It's really hard to imagine the different lives we could have all picked. Maybe I'd have been a teacher, but I think I'd still be writing. I'd still be creating in some way or another. In closing, if someone out there was feeling down, unseen, unheard, right in the middle of their own little hardship, what would you want them to hear from you today? What would your message be? That's a big question. Is this person a writer or is this just anyone that may be going through a tough time? Interesting question. I would just want to reach through and give them a hug and tell them it's going to be okay. I think it's kind of like giving yourself permission to feel whatever you're feeling and let it work all the way through. That's really hard to do. There's nothing easy about feeling that kind of pain. It's the worst. It's awful. I absolutely hate that part. I have recently experienced that if you do let it go and actually let it pass all the way through, it does get lighter on the other side. That's tough to do. It's very hard to do. It's very brave to do. But I do kind of believe that joy and sorrow come from the same well. And so I think if you dig in deeper in either direction, it's just making more room in yourself to like understand other human beings and eventually experience more love. And so I think it's a brave pursuit to feel it all. That's a great line. Now, how do people find you? Oh, all the socials for sure to Nealtowns. I'm the one that like answers all the messages on there and I love to hear from people. I also have like a road phone and if you go on my website, like there's a bank code people can sign up to too, that we have direct communication with in all those ways. But yeah, I love to hear from people. This has been great. Great conversation, great information. I really appreciate you taking the time to join us today. I appreciate you having me. It's been a joy getting to chat with you. Thank you so much for hosting this and having a great conversation and, you know, shedding light to songwriting and all the levels of humanists that exist within that. I appreciate you. It's been my pleasure. Thanks again. Thanks for joining us today. We hope you enjoyed the show. This has been a Tony Mantua production. For more information, contact media at PlateauMusic.com.