I would very much love to hear about Adam Gnade‘s creative process, about the way he writes and thinks and records; or, maybe, see him live. Have him speak little, drink something fancy and dirty and rockstarish like red wine or whisky as he sits crouched on a stool in the middle of a dimly-lit stage, faintly touching the guitar strings, with some bitterness in his voice. I’ve already written about him, and he was in the first installment of our Favorite Records feature; but now and then I go back to his work and am amazed by it all over again.
Yes, it’s ‘just’ talking over some guitar strumming; yes, his quivering voice is reminiscent of Conor Oberst at his best, the Conor I’ve never stopped loving for the simplicity in which he’d put his pain out there into the open. Adam Gnade, in the same way, is sensitive but not naive; he is intense and bitter and true and even in the longer songs, where he loses track of himself at times, it never turns into the ramblings of a 20-something-year-old. Adam observes systems around him, stands thoughtful and stares out of the window describing the world.
But if you’re afraid to live, you’ll spend your whole life dying.