“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can." - Herman Melville

I used this passage from Moby Dick to launch the release of "Grey's End," the second single from Amber Lantern, an album that turned out to be my own white whale. Ishmael's description of depression as a "drizzly November in my soul" resonated with me and, having begun and abandoned Moby Dick several times before finally completing it in the summer of 2018, I had practically memorized his opening monologue. In the middle years of the 2010s, I too felt myself "growing grim about the mouth," and struggled to get a new project off the ground. It was a period of anxiety attacks, personal upheaval, and the brutal discomfort that often accompanies inner growth. 

As a writer, being honest about my emotional state was paramount, but putting an album of dour, sad bastard music out into the world didn't appeal to me at all. Though wary of the darkness in some of my new songs, I dragged myself to the docks and went to sea, adamant I could make a rock album that depicted the soul's turbulent journey, but ultimately landed in safe harbor. The idea of the lantern as a beacon arrived midway through and soon informed the project's entire aesthetic. Vivid colors, jangling guitars, and radiant synths squared off against themes of self-doubt and cynicism, waging little wars that sounded like how I felt. I was acutely aware of art's therapeutic power, and it wasn't lost on me how fortunate I was to have this method of self-expression available to me.

Apart from basic drum and guitar tracking at Big Sky Recording, and a piano session at my friend Pat's house, the Battle of Amber Lantern was fought in my home studio in Saline, Michigan. At times it felt like a frustrating and lonesome endeavor, but no one really makes anything completely alone. Foremost among my shipmates were State Park mainstays Chad Sturdivant and Matt Collar, my lifelong friend Patrick Herek, designer Jenny Harley, and my ever-patient mentor, Geoff Michael.   

Change is hard, but growth is essential. I'm learning it still. - TM