One of the many perks of writing for KXT is the opportunity to not only interact with artists from across North Texas, but also those regional, national, and internationally recognized musicians who are just passing through.
Over the course of many interviews through the last 12 months, I’ve enjoyed more than a few fascinating conversations, the kind of chats where you leave with your perspective on an artist and their work often radically recalibrated — a small, subtle expansion of your worldview. Here, in no particular order, are some of my most memorable encounters from 2024.
The Reverend Shawn Amos
“Thinking about those songs in the ‘70s, what I love about the music is there’s no metaphor — it’s poetry, but of a different concept,” Amos told me during our conversation. “It’s just these direct pleas, which might come across as trite or cheesy, but they’re deep, and they’re real. I wanted to write in that vein … getting into my own identity, and speaking my own individual truth, which feels like a bolder statement, frankly, in a place like Texas than it does in L.A.”
Paul Levatino
“When I started looking at the footage, I started realizing we had a story about a band that was on the brink, and every single one of them had a dream,” Levatino said of the Bastards of Soul’s late Chadwick Murray when we spoke. “This one front man was totally unexpected — he didn’t even think he was going to be a front man. I think it’s interesting for anybody who watches it that’s an artist because you never know when you’re going to have to step … to the edge of that stage so everybody can see you.”
Slow Joy (aka Esteban Flores)
“These are snapshots of something I believe in,” Flores told me about his songs when we talked. “If you connect with it, you connect. If you don’t, you don’t, but I want people to see that there are other people struggling through the same things … I want people who connect with it to realize that they’re not alone in these crazy times that we’re in.”
Stefan Gonzalez
“There are just a lot of things waiting to be unearthed, but I feel a lot more hopeful about that,” Gonzalez told me earlier this year. “We’ve all come to peace with [my father, Dennis Gonazlez’s death]. We have difficult times, but we’re moving on with our lives. … Maybe we can start working on these life projects of documenting or archiving a lot of the things that have been left in the vaults gathering dust that we absolutely need to do something about.”
Angel White
“People who are from Texas and [have] been on this land for however long are wired different, and have real roots in life,” White told me when we spoke. “So that just inevitably bleeds into whatever somebody does that is from Texas. … I think my story is being told within the songs, but also other people’s stories. So, if [people] connect in any way, I’ve done my job. … [That] vulnerability is — I mean, for me, it’s gold.”
Adeem the Artist
“There’s me — the true me that I am — and then there’s the artist’s avatar, and that’s the thing I’ve constructed to be interpreted in a specific way,” Adeem told me earlier this year. “Then there’s the me other people are constructing psychologically, in their imagination, based off this version of me I built for them to understand. None of those three people are the same thing. So, for me, I can throw as much of myself into everything if I want without too much consideration of [exposure], because I have a very, very well-defined understanding of the fact that nobody is ever really gonna get the true me.”
Nicole Marxen
“I never assume that what I am writing about or trying to convey is the answer to anything,” Marxen shared with me. “I’m really interested in being brave enough to even talk about certain things. … I didn’t grow up playing music; it’s something that I got into as a young adult. So, I feel like I’ll always have this kind of sense of insecurity. I think that’s what makes what I do really interesting … sometimes I know that things are the wrong notes, but I’m willing to go there, because it sounds really cool.”
Jon Muq
“Moving from a country where people had nothing, but people were happy, and then I moved to a Western world where I think there is plenty of stuff, but I would talk to friends and they [were] not happy about stuff — I’m like, ‘Why are you not happy?’” Muq told when we spoke. “I think you have everything a person would need in this world. So, it drove me to create an album with happy songs, just to make someone stay happy.”
Sam Anderson
“As we roll everything back out, we’re trying to set it up — we’ve always wanted to be a little more conducive to how we want to present ourselves, rather than certain packaged ideas and stuff that we honestly never really seem to kind of squeeze into that well. It’s been wonderful for the creative process, too,” Anderson told me when we spoke earlier this year.
Billy Law
“I wouldn’t still be playing music without the people in Turks, and I imagine they probably feel similarly,” Law told me during our conversation. “When you’re a local musician, you have to have someone that understands what it’s like, that you can talk to, and it helps even more when they’re not in the same band as you. … It’s so grounding to have someone you can complain [to] and bounce ideas off of — I think that’s what makes you last, or as least, that’s the case for me.”
Preston Jones is a North Texas freelance writer and regular contributor to KXT. Email him at [email protected] or find him on X (@prestonjones). Our work is made possible by our generous, music-loving members. If you like how we lift up local music, consider becoming a KXT sustaining member right here.
