Hayes Carll’s 10th record is the first one he ever wrote on purpose. Not a collection of songs that happened to share a mood — an intentional midlife assessment, tattooed into music so he could come back to the lessons when he ends up in the ditch. “You could tell me the secret to life right now,” he said, “and I’ll forget it in five minutes.”
That honesty runs through the whole conversation. Hayes talked about the years when songwriting meant getting drunk and catching lightning bolts — no edit, no craft, just hope. When it worked, it was exhilarating. When it didn’t, he felt like a fraud. The breakthrough was separating creation from editing. Step one: mumbling into a phone with a guitar, no judgment, following whatever comes. Step two: hours of uninterrupted listening, sorting seeds, finding the bones. He still needs the lightning. But now he has the patience to work with it after it strikes.
We also got into growing up with a Kenny Rogers tape for a television, hearing Dylan at the Unitarian Church, the dive bars of Crystal Beach, the fear that a funny song would define his career, and the midlife realization that having everything he’d wanted wasn’t the same as being happy. Then he played ”I Think I’ll Stay Here a While”, co-written with MC Taylor of Hiss Golden Messenger — a song about watching a bird build a nest on a day when he wasn’t reaching for his phone. “I spent so long climbing the hill, but I only started moving when I got still.”
🎥 Watch the full conversation on YouTube
🎸 Watch Hayes perform “I Think I’ll Stay Here a While”
AFTER THE CONVERSATION
After the Conversation is my Substack essay series where I keep thinking after the microphones are off. This week: a greying professor, a jar of strawberry preserves, and the question of what you’re willing to trade for one fantastic today. Also: the beautiful doomed parade of human consciousness, and why music will take everything you give it.
