Devon Welsh has, what I consider, one of the more heartfelt and original voices in the #indie music scene today. That is no more evident than in his new album, released today, titled ‘True Love’. Every song is diverse in its own signature way yet captures that sound that Devon honed in his group Majical Cloudz and mastered in his solo career. What I find particularly brilliant about this new set of tracks is that each song builds like a story, each with its own style and musical physique while complimenting each of the other tracks as a whole set of stories set to a lucid soundtrack.
About Devon Welsh
In an age of collaborations & high-end production, Devon Welsh highlights the importance of the individual voice as an instrument in music. After his 1st solo album Dream Songs in 2018, he moved to rural Wisconsin to recorded this new album while working on his emotional health through meditation and therapy.
True Love reflects on the real, ambiguous emotional spaces around love – romantic, platonic, internal; how it can be a game, a daydream, a paradise, or horror. It also touches on our culture’s rigid notions of manhood/masculinity, now more than ever trying to move past macho stereotypes into a deeper, more authentic understanding of identity & love.
For someone who has felt the widespread burnout of being an artist online in the music industry echo chamber — Welsh’s move to self-releasing his projects is also emboldening for him, as he reckons with these realities to find his own path and a disarmingly clear sense of self in his music.
Through the process of True Love, Welsh found himself reflecting on our culture’s notions of manhood and masculinity, and how they’re implicated in love of all kinds. “The male stereotype is that you’re not supposed to cry, you’re supposed to be strong and confident and powerful,” he says. “That feeds into a masculine identity where you can’t look inward and figure out: Who am I that’s distinct from that? Those stereotypes prevent people from understanding how they can relate to others from an authentic place—instead of how they feel they’re supposed to be operating.”
The novelistic piano-ballad opener “Uniform” explores this directly and solemnly, paying homage to Welsh’s stepfather and grandfather, whom he calls role models. But it is perhaps the emotionality and vulnerability of Welsh’s idiosyncratic style that unravels such archetypes most.