Taking a Walk.
So when I'm creating, I think I kind of just try to make space for concepts, whether that'll be a lyrical concept or just you know, a melodic shape, something that feels like it's making a really clear statement. And when that pulls at me and I can kind of visualize what a full song would sound like from there, it then kind of gives way to dialing it in and making it a full song.
Welcome to the Taking a Walk Podcast, where Buzz Night explores the stories behind the music, and today we're joined by an artist who's on a songwriting and powerful voice have resonated with fans all over the world, Livingstone. From his early days crafting songs in his bedroom to sharing his music on stages across the country. Livingston's journey is a testament to the power of vulnerability and perseverance.
In this episode, we'll.
Talk about the moments that shape his artistry, the inspiration behind his most moving songs, and what he's learned along the way. Buzz talks with Livingston about his new deluxe edition, A Hometown Odyssey. A story continues on Taking a Walk.
Livingston, thanks for being on the Taking a Walk Podcast. It's an honor having you on.
Thank you so much for having me.
So since the show is called taking a Walk, I'd like to ask this question before we get the proceedings going. If you could take a walk with somebody who is involved with music, living or dead. Who would you take a walk with and where do you think you would like to take that walk?
I would love to take a walk with Rick Group and at Changri La in Alibi.
That would be pretty intense, or maybe the opposite, Maybe it would be like the most relaxing.
Then I feel like he has this aura of calm around him or at least just like deeper thought, like takes you out of the real world and into kind of the I choose on shoose Off tooos Off for sure.
And what is it like making this move from Denton, Texas now to the LA based That's a little bit of a different stop on the map.
You know, it's really different, though I categorize my LA experience is pretty insulated because I really didn't change much about my lifestyle from when I moved from Texas, because it was just a move made to focus on becoming a better songwriter and producer, which I'm still figuring out. You know, it's years of sessions before I even moved out to LA, and then years of sessions in LA. It's more so just a change that pushed me to push myself further as a creator. But most of my
time is largely spent alone in my bedroom studio. I don't really go out, don't go to parties. I don't hang out with people that much.
I'd just kind of do my thing, just like in Denton, Texas exactly. It's an amazing story, a hometown. Odyssee, the story continues. We're going to talk about that for sure, but I do want to ask you, can you share a memory from your childhood that first sparked your your love for music.
I remember playing rock Band, this video game, I think it was on the Wii, back when those were around, and I played with my brother and he would drum and I would sing, and it was like just all the classics. It was like more than a feel in in Summer sixty nine and Message in a Bottle and like all this stuff from Boston and Police and Queen and like I remember the feeling of like when the bridge would come and that part of the song would
hit that just caught you on a deeper level. And you know, I knew I couldn't sing too well, but like you know, it was just fun to jam out with my brother and that was kind of the first seed planet of music.
I think, well, let's have a little fun with something. We'll call it fast five here, so five fast questions. First concert you ever attended and how it impacted you.
Tolbe Mack at the American Airline Center in Dallas, Texas, and impacted me because I dressed like him and I was standing by B stage and when he came out on be stage, he looked at me and he knew I was like dressed like him, and he like winked at me. And I think it like set my future emotion.
I love that.
First instrument you ever played out of violin, First time you wrote or composed a song, twelve or thirteen. First musician you truly admired.
John Bellian, nice one.
We're trying to get him on the podcast, by the way. First memorable experience performing live in front of an audience.
You've group when I was thirteen, convinced the youth group leader to let me perform in front of everybody. Mike was off for the first two songs.
Oh geez.
When you're writing a new song, tell us about the creative process. How you start. Do you start with lyrics? Do you start with melody?
Is? What is your way of doing it?
For the longest time, and I think this is still my favorite. It's all concepts first. Like I think everything that I create and everything that I love has a strong why I'm not a big fan of abstract stuff. I kind of have a simple palette as a consumer and as a listener and as a viewer of art, I have like a mainstream kind of you know, maybe some would call boring an unnuanced, a pugle, but I'm just a sucker for like big, solid, clear, emotional fecius
to anything that I consume. So when I'm creating, I think I kind of just try to make space for concepts, whether that'll be a lyrical concept or just you know, a melodic shape, something that feels like it's making a really clear statement. And when that pulls at me and I can kind of visualize what a full song would sound like from there, it then kind of gives way to dialing it in and making it a full song.
Your music is incredible. The lyrics are incredible and you're twenty two years old, thank.
You so much, and their lyrics that are certainly of someone who could be way older than twenty two years old.
Where do you get this sense of focus and incredible wisdom? You know?
I don't know if I don't think I'm wise, because there's still stuff I find out every day in terms of just stumble over my land feet and like figuring out like, oh, this is this whole way I was going about this thing was flawed and there's a better way to do it, and like kind of the more you know that you realize, the less you know. So I think there's that. But I do kind of approach life with a like a really inordinate amount of intensity.
With everything that I do. It's just very intense. I experience sensations really intensely and emotions really intensely, sometimes at the cost of it being a little too serious. But I think that that helps me out when it comes to music, because I look at every song as a
bit of a life or death. Like, you know, if I could if I got hit by a bus tomorrow, what would I make today, Which which may be a little extreme, but I think that can kind of maybe explain some of the intensity or drive to some of the songs, because I think that they are our prisms for a lot of things that I'm trying to get out of my system. Just in case.
We also produced this other podcast that's called Music Saved Me. It's about the sort of the therapeutic and healing power of music. And I know for you, you went through some terrible times at school and there was bullying and just an awful environment. So I do have to ask you it has music saved you? And do you think music has healing power?
Absolutely? I mean, I think music hit me at the perfect time. I think it saved me from whatever else I would have found to medicate my issues in middle school and high school, the drug to alcohol or partying or whatever that the typical and completely understandable advice has already kind of drown out the feeling of being alone and feeling like other It gave me space to channel a lot of negativity into something that, at least to me,
felt productive at the time. Even though I had nothing to show for its demos, I had no idea what it would give way to, but I always had a feeling about it, and it definitely came at the time that I needed it too.
Your lyrics are so deeply personal. Is there a particular song that was especially cathartic for you or particularly challenging to write?
Half Life felt like a turning point moment because I remember I wrote that at a time when I was just so confused about what to do next, and I had, you know, five years of my career under my golt,
but nothing to really show for quite yet. And I remember this feeling of almost rediscovering that initial passion for making a statement in a song that felt big and clear and universal, and thinking about all the people that never sacrificed for me, and all the times in my life that I've sacrificed for someone I love, and realizing that those moments feels so much more potent than getting in these material moments of where things pay off or you see the back end of whatever you're doing kind
of comes to fruition. And I think that song really set my course again in a really unclear time.
How do you know that one of your songs, when you're creating, is truly finished. What's the point that you know it's done and out the door and done.
When it sounds like the original visualization of the song that I had when the spark hit. Like when the
spark hits, it's almost like a fifteen second clockwork. Orange just blit to that information where I can kind of see the entire lifetime of the song play out and what it could be and everything that could sound like, and then what color it is and what world it lives in, and like it's a little glimpse and it could last as short as a minute, it can last an entire day at the beginning of creating a song.
But whenever the version that I bounce sounds and feels and looks to me like that original spark, I know that there's no need to keep, you know, beating it over the head, like another idea will come.
I want to talk about some specific songs off of the story continues, but I do want to ask you about I think it's probably my favorite of your work, and it's Last Man Standing. Can you talk about that kids, that song and the motivation behind it.
It's it is.
It's stellar, man, Thank you so much. That was That was a song I wrote when you know, I felt like I didn't have enough to show of what I had done. So far to this this person that I really really loved, that I'd been with for a really long time, and I felt like I didn't have enough. You know, I wasn't out here making billions of dollars, I wasn't selling out anything. I had nothing, and I had, you know, years of having pursued this with nothing really
to show for it. And I was concerned about, like, hey, does this still like am I still worthy to you as a as a partner? Can I still give you what you need if I don't have, you know, the world behind me to kind of prove it. Every time I would have that conversation with her, I would just get reminded like, hey, you were there before anything, like before before you know, the kid to school even knew I made music. You know, I've been with this person
since I was fourteen years old. So I think realizing that, you know, when you truly love somebody, it's not about what they what they bring into the world, or what their dreams are, or how realized their final potential is. It's just about I love this person for who they are and you know, the way that they see the world. And so I think it was me realizing that I didn't need to be more than I was or do more than I was doing to be worthy.
It's an incredible song. It's so visual.
Thanks, it's really fun life. People really seem to get into that one and the shows.
So let's talk about grave Digger off of the story continues. Tell me about that song and motivation behind that.
I think I'm really introspective to a point where I can check my thoughts at the door so much that it becomes a new censor. It becomes cyclical and repetitive, and I can end up getting in my own way and being my own worst enemy. And sometimes that really frustrates me, And so I wanted to write a song about how frustrating that feeling is, to kind of know that you are the cause of of whatever you're tripping over. It's self induced friction, it's not external. I know a
lot of people feel like that too. They just want to get out of their heads into the world. And I definitely resonate with that, so I needed to get it out.
We all do it, right, It's such a common, common flaw, right, Yeah, in the human condition, which is what you explore. You explore the human condition, not only in your in your own self, but in the world around you. How about Look, Mom, I Can Fly? Talk about that one.
I would say, Look, Mom, I Can Fly is the exact opposite of Grave Digger. That's that's just a reminder not to take things so seriously. It's a reminder of every song that I've listened to that just makes me, let go have a good time and not you know, look for meaning in every single detail, but just kind of like you know those days where you wake up and you have the roast colored glasses on and everything is just like kind of magical and nostalgic, and you're
not taking yourself to too seriously. There's a lot to be said for that feeling, and I don't experience it as much as I used to, and so I needed to make that song to remind myself of how important it is.
And I want to talk about a couple of others. A glow off of the story continues.
Glows is a song describing to somebody the power and the light that they have even when they don't see it, and when they feel like the world is against them and they're at the bottom of a very dark place, knowing you can't take them out of that you don't know exactly what they're going through, but you can still see that they're beautiful and they have something to bring to the world even in that place.
And then the last one I want to ask you about is Brainstorm.
Brainstorm is kind of a sister song to Grave Digger, and I think it's a little less dark and a little bit more visual, and so I think it was kind of a kind of improving on the format a little bit of I'm going to make a dark song about a very introspective thing. Is there a way to describe it that feels more grandiose and a little less dark?
And you recalled the moment you realized that music was going to be a career, not just a little side passion.
Yeah. I got a call when I was I think sixteen. I had sent an email with my first song, fairy Tale, that I had made the year before, and I sent that to someone that I wanted advice from, but I didn't know he was an A and R. And he told me, okay, I sent this to my boss and he signed at Cheeran and all these people and really wants.
To meet you.
And that was Greg Nadell, who's a great guy worked on Electra Records at the time, and that kind of was the moment I was like, Oh, it's been in the bedroom, but now it might leave the bedroom, you know for a bit.
Yeah, what has been the biggest surprise or lesson that you've learned since entering the music industry?
Nobody knows what they're doing. Absolutely nobody knows what you're doing. There is no formula. Everybody is completely shooting in the dark. It is no man's land. It is complete trial and error and rubbing sticks together to try to make a spark.
And the best anybody can do is create authentic things and try to make a clear message and you know, something that is unambiguous enough to stick out and put a foot in the ground on something that is the only thread I see behind things that are consistently successful in world changing And aside from that, if there is any rhyme or reason to this whole industry, I don't see it.
Right on.
Memorable stories from touring or performing that you might want to share that really stand out.
I know the stories about people who who come to the VIP and are like, I haven't been able to leave my house for six months, Like I have a fear of being around people. I have a fear of noises, and you know, I think my my concerts feel really cathartic. And so there's base for a lot of people that
deal with a lot internally. And I love that because I think, you know a lot of us, and I say us meaning you know, people who experience deep things internally and have a hard time sometimes bringing that out into the world. The temptation is to make that a very insulative experience and to not share it and to
not have a community. And so all these people I've met that are like you know, have I've either dealt with immense mental or physical challenges and still find themselves, you know, at the shows showing up and kind of facing whatever they need to face and using it as an emotional outlet just makes it really rewarding for me.
How do you keep your energy your creativity up in the most positive way when you're on the road, since the road is can be difficult.
All I do on the road is train and walk and eat and play shows and sleep. That's it. And maybe you know, talk to my people every day obviously, you know, talk to my talk to my family, you know, but largely it's how narrow can I make this experience and what variables cross over and help the other ones the most. And for me, the more I train, the better condition I'm in for the show. The more I rest, the better I recover from the show, and the training the more I eat, the more fuel.
I have for this show.
So it's kind of just this methodical you know, maybe two methodical Jenga castle of I can't do everything right now while I'm on the road. But if I can put on the best show I possibly can every single night and then still challenge myself in other ways while I'm out, then it feels productive to me.
It sounds like you make every show as if it's your last show.
You pour so much into it.
I we say a prayer before we go out every night, and the theme of this tour, you know, because we've played this set almost one hundred times now, the exact same set, and so there's a temptation to go autopilot. But then there's a reminder that I say during the Prairie night, which is just like it doesn't matter whether it's you know, the three hundred person show in New Orleans or it's the other night in Salt Lake, which is like twenty four hundred people. Everybody gets the same show.
Everybody deserves the same show. I came from a small town. Not all the concerts of my favorite artists would even pass through Dallas. A lot of artists ignored Dallas. I was like, you know, people are showing up in these places where it's even less common and more inconvenience to get to a show, and it's not just baked into a part of daily life like in these bigger cities. They deserve the exact same show as the people in the big cities, and often they're even more appreciative of it.
So it's a constant challenge myself to you twenty six shows in a row. There are days where I when I feel amazing, and then there are days when I don't. But regardless, that shouldn't have an impact on the show that people get or the experience they have.
You've had some great collaborations. I want you to maybe talk about some of those people you've collaborated with, and I want to ask you what do you look for in a collaboration in a creative partner, for.
Somebody who challenges me and somebody who has complementary skill sets that maybe I struggle with her have blind spots with. My favorite collaborator who I'm working with extensively right now is Rami Yakub, who is a brilliant, brilliant Swedish songwriter and my one of my favorite humans in the world.
And he just has this common sense understanding of how a song should be arranged and how the melody should flow into each other, and how to build tension and release and suspense and have shapes that are just iconic within the song. And a lot of times I think that can bring a sort of method to the madness that is really solid from and really impressive from a
creative standpoint, and we just work really well together. So yeah, I think I think it's challenged, and I think somebody who maybe even sees the world in a different way, because because if not, why why would I collaborate? You know, like I could. I could write with myself all day, but I'm only one me and I only have I have my little narrow pinhole through which I view the world. Why not bring in someone who's lived a different life.
Maybe we could challenge each other, Maybe we could have a different perspective on the same thing and then those things collide and make something fresh.
And how about a dream collaboration that would just, you know, knock you out, man.
It might be like it might be like a really fun camp at Shanger Law for the third album, like a like Rick Rubin, but also bringing in all the people I've looked up to, Like if it could be a camp with like I don't know, like Rommy Bellian, Rick freaking Jeff Basker, Barell like that. To me, it's
how many pots and pants can we bang together? And like sent Decide was like all this stuff I grew up on and then also just be around great which that the thought of that even being possible is just kind of crazy to me.
What do you hope listeners take away from your music?
I just want people to feel heard, and I don't want I don't want people to feel as if their unique internal experience separates them from the rest of the world or from their potential. And I think you can still create amazing and beautiful and profound things even if you have something that you feel like slows you down. And it's really really easy to compare and look at other people and you can come up with one hundred
reasons you're not good enough. But if you look at all the people that have made something exceptional, a lot of them had a lot slowing them down, and sometimes a lot more than us slowing them down. So I think, you know, get out of your head, get into the world, find what you love to do, and if my songs could be a small part of empowering that, then that's that's all I want to do.
Congratulations on the tour on a hometown to see the story continues.
Thank you. I just I just have one last question.
When you're at the point when you're playing stadiums, would you consider coming back on.
AR would absolutely just give me a call.
Thank you man, I really appreciate it. Living Stone's and an honor.
Thank you boss, Thank you for your time.
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