Instead, I met someone remarkably direct.
It quickly became clear that what listeners often perceive as mystique isn't something he's consciously building. If anything, it's a byproduct of writing honestly.
That distinction feels important. Love Spells doesn't protect his privacy by creating distance; he protects it by choosing the right medium. Some thoughts belong in a song because that's where they make the most sense.
It's perhaps why his music resonates so deeply with themes of yearning. He admits there are certain memories and people he continually returns to, calling it "an addiction to longing." Yet even those songs refuse to stay fixed. A track that once felt like holding onto someone can eventually become about letting them go. The songs don't change, the person listening to them does, including himself.
The same instinct shapes the way he approaches creativity beyond the studio. When asked what's inspiring him, he doesn't begin with musicians or designers. Instead, he talks about moving from Houston to Los Angeles, watching films, the people he's meeting, and the ways different places quietly reshape who you are. "I've just been inspired a lot by living my life," he says, adding that making art means actually going out and experiencing something worth writing about.