In these uncertain times, never have we all depended so strongly on the weather to dictate our days, social lives and even moods. And as we teeter on the last dregs of summer, one artist is inspiring us to reverse and soften our mindsets, and embrace the coming colder months – knowing that every season brings the promise of something hopeful.
“December” is the brand new track from Ivory Layne, the Nashville-hailed singer and songwriter who has been making waves with her spellbinding lyricism, catchy melodies and captivating vocal prowess.
Taken from her forthcoming EP “Confetti”, the track marks her first official release in the UK, and is accompanied by a breathtaking fever dream of a music video, with the visuals focusing on the beauty of nature and the way it succumbs to each of the seasons.
We caught up with Layne and talked about the formative experience of growing up in Nashville, the potential for rebirth in “December”, and perfecting her recipe for coconut rice…
How did growing up in Nashville influence you sonically?
I’ve lived in Nashville for seven years now and can honestly say it’s been a crash course in authentic lyricism. Music City is home to some of the world’s best songwriters; I’ve been privileged to pick their brains, and they all share the same trait: they know who they are and they stick to their story. I’ve come to know myself better and be more confident in the value of my perspective, as an artist and a human being. Sadly, I have not written a country chart hit, but there’s always time.
Who did you grow up listening to?
My favourite artists growing up were Regina Spektor, Imogen Heap, Phil Collins, and Coldplay. I also listened to a lot of movie scores—Thomas Newman’s work is pure magic to me—and music from Rosemary Clooney and friends.
Congratulations on “December” – what was the track inspired by?
Thank you! “December” was a play on seasons of life—how we all experience periods of personal growth, life, death, and rebirth. I drew from my memories of feeling stuck and depressed in my early twenties; this is the song I would’ve wanted to hear then.
Do you find it cathartic putting out music so raw and vulnerable to you and your experiences?
I do find vulnerability cathartic, though not without a bit of pit-sweaty terror. Standing emotionally naked in a crowded room is a weird part of my job description, but it’s brought such great friends into my life because I was open enough for them to relate. Connecting over shared musings and experiences is one of the best feelings in the world; I’d rather be rejected for who I am than beloved as a persona.