DOGS AND DARK FORESTS, 2024.
You’re doing just a little bit better than you did before. You’re just a little bit kinder, for whatever that’s worth. You try to love this vicious world. You try to make this world your home, so, when the time comes to let it go, you can let it go.
I GOT YOU, BUD, 2024.
We will be kind. We will be gracious. And we will make this world our home.
Goddammit Keep Going, 2019.
I never thought we'd live to see the summer end. I never really thought we'd get this far. I guess - if you consider every part of it - it's a wonder that we're here at all.
Cosmic Dread Country, 2018.
My heart used to hunt for some great, final purpose. My heart used to hunt for design. But I don’t sing anymore to the hunt; I sing for us. Hallelujah. We’re here. We’re alive.
SUMMER SLAYCATION, 2022.
An instrumental album inspired by my enduring love of the tropes and archetypes of 80's slashers.
Empty House at Dusk, 2020.
A collection of haunted instrumentals. A Polar wind blows through it, and birds of prey hover over it.
A Season in the Wilderness., 2018.
I ain’t impressed by Abraham. I just ain’t that reverential, man. I would’ve never touched that blade. I would’ve turned my back on the mountain and kissed Isaac on the face.
Mid-Atlantic Ruins, 2020.
On certain moonlit nights, a ghostly baying sweeps the forest, and I can picture him and his joyful, wolfish grin, rushing through the windswept grass and snapping at the darkness. I would give anything to run with him again.
Calvary, 2018.
Stolen songs.
The Holy Court of Baltimore, 2014.
Dawn grants new life to the ghost: an autumnal breath of woodsmoke and a heart of scarlet and gold. My heart is brimming with hope.
A Widower’s Kind, 2011.
Ol’ Hank.
Pray for Daylight, 2011.
We thought we’d change the world. The world changed us.