Today we’d like to introduce you to Austin Sweeney.
Hi Austin, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Growing up on a family farm in Oregon, there wasn’t a lot of local music. There was a lot of 90’s country and gospel music in the town, but no live venues. My two grandmothers from either side of the family were both very musical and gave me a lot of encouragement and helped spark my passion for music.
My grandma Nancy (along with my grandpa Sam), on the farm side, gave me my first guitar. She sang bass in an award-winning large ensemble chorus, Sweet Adelines. She took me to Bluegrass expos, exposed me to lots of music from the ’50s and ’60s, and introduced me to “chord sheets” for popular songs. Little did she know how pivotal those chord sheets would be. Within a year, I probably had 20 large 3-ring binders full of chord sheets from my favorite artists and studied them constantly.
My grandma Faith, from my mother’s side, bought me my first PA system. She was in many bands when she was younger (of which I finally got to hear some recordings from back then, and she knew how to bring the house down.) and always encouraged me to explore my creativity and helped me develop the exploratory side of my imagination. When I was 22, I moved to Nashville with nothing. I had a guitar, notebooks full of songs, and an undefined dream for some glory. Like many classic Nashville stories, I played all the dives, often for no one but other musicians, often at 1 or 2 in the morning, and ran out of money and had to move back to the farm. I got the opportunity to pitch my first set of demos for Universal Music Group, but they thought I had a ways to go, and the music was a little “too much rock.” I got the note that it sounded like Pearl Jam. This makes sense for a kid from the Pacific Northwest. That region of the country, full of rain and low moods, can tend to soak into your bones.
So, I moved back to the farm and worked on the farm for the next 4 years. I never stopped playing music, though. I was disappointed that my Nashville dream had fizzled out. However, music is more than just a lane for stardom. It’s not about stardom at all. I have a compulsion to create music. I started writing songs about 2 months into playing guitar and never stopped. Thank goodness I didn’t have access to YouTube when I started at 13 years old because as much as I have a compulsion to create, I also have a compulsion to share my music with people as a way to connect.
Since the internet is forever, I would be in a near-constant state of cringe if folks could pull up those songs from those first few years of writing. I almost dropped a line from my first song, but I’ll save you and me the grief. After 4 years of farming, I packed up with my two buddies and moved to Arizona. I had a feeling in my gut that this would be the move that defined my musical direction. If I left the farm and moved to Arizona, I would have to take this as deadly seriously as I possibly could. I hit every open mic, met everyone I could, and hopefully met the right people to play with and start making albums. I hit the jackpot. I found the coolest, most generous, most talented group of people I could’ve ever hoped to have met in the Arizona music community.
Since then, I’ve played the Country Thunder music festival, shared the stage with Roger Clyne as the first of two openers, and Jim Bachmann & The Day Drinkers. I’ve played many amazing shows with Drew Cooper, opening up for Randy Rogers Band at the House of Blues in San Diego and Cody Johnson at the Prescott Arena. It’s been a wild ride since being here, and I released my first single, “Carryin’ On,” in August of 2023. I am in the middle of recording my first album since being in Arizona, and there’s no sign of slowing down. From here, I only intend to ramp it up and release a ton more music, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds.
Would it have been a smooth road, and if not, what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
No. Not. That first burnout in Nashville was rough. I played a lot of places and met some cool and talented people, but unfortunately, that’s the rub. Nashville is bleeding with remarkably cool and talented people. You can walk into any bar anytime and hear an unknown artist that will blow your mind. After pursuing music in Nashville, you realize how much talent you’re up against. Loads and loads of wildly creative yet unknown musicians playing for tips tell you that it will take much more than simple talent to make it in the music business. I’ve played county fairs, state fairs, talent shows, songwriting competitions, dive bars, loud restaurants, random backyards, and everything in between, and some can be heartbreakers. Sometimes they don’t like your music. Sometimes, they stiff you on pay. Sometimes, a woman will leave – instead of a tip – a note in your tip jar that reads “WAY TOO LOUD. RUINED OUR EVENING.” This note was left more recently than you might think. It made me laugh at the absurdity of someone taking the time to write something out on a napkin that she had hoped would tank my night. But unlucky for her, she gave me a story.
Moving away from the family farm was, and still is, challenging. Our farm turned 100 years old this year, and I’m not there to farm alongside my family. I’ve got a niece who is a year and a half old. I only get to see her a few times a year, which carries another heartache. I’m compelled to make music, which takes me where it takes me, but that means away from my family. I firmly believe in what some folks call “the process.” As long as I don’t quit and keep giving this music all my blood, sweat, and tears, every obstacle or challenge is part of the journey. A story is only ever compelling if there’s some real heartbreak. I try not to wallow in the dark moments and remind myself that everybody would do it if it were easy. I know it will be a long, hard road, but that’s part of what makes life so dynamic and exciting. The valleys are more important than the peaks, and any time I’m in the valley, I know I’m on the path to the next higher peak. I try to remember that anyway; I’m the worst at taking my own advice. Note to self.
Thanks – so, what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
So I’m a singer/songwriter/guitar player, and only sometimes in that order. Some nights, I’m the introspective songwriter, and some nights, I’m turning the overdrive to 11 on my Fender Telecaster. I think what sets me apart from others – if I should dare to pontificate on such things – is that most of my songs, whether deliberately and obvious or subtle and even unconscious, are about excavating my weird psyche and discovering my way of seeing the world and where I fit in it. I don’t write pop country. I don’t write red dirt country. I don’t write Americana, whatever that technically is defined as. I write like me. You’ll know me better than most if you hear a night of my songs and listen to the stories. I’m not trying to get all ‘artsy’ on you, but the longer I write and record, the less I can tell you exactly what box I fit in. The foundation is solidly rooted in country music; I can tell you that. However, I pull from the introspective songwriters of the 60’s and 70’s. I pull guitar, playing from bluegrass to country to blues to fusion. I draw from genre-less artists that eventually became their genre, like Jimmy Buffett (not as much the hits, but the deep cuts for sure). Sometimes, I wish my music sounded more like everybody else because I would have a more concrete metric to base my songs on. However, that’s the point of creativity: bringing something into the world that didn’t exist before. The more I go along, the more I realize that I need to follow the compass I’ve been given, mainly because it’s the only one I’ve got, and hopefully, it’s pointing true north wherever true north turns out to be located for me.
What quality or characteristic do you feel is most important to your success?
Grit and Determination. I’m a diehard Oregon State Beavers fan, and that’ll instill a never-say-die attitude like you wouldn’t believe. Those previous questions got me all soapbox-y and philosophical, so I threw in something a little lighter to put a bow on. Go Beavs.