
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or
As winter melts away in the southern hemisphere, and autumn begins to fall upon the north, we are joined this week by the singular Eli Winter. His elegant, articulate playing is matched only by his soft-spoken, honey-toned voice, and gentle approach to conversation.
Eli joins us from his home in Chicago for a thoughtful chat, and throughout the conversation you can hear the sounds of traffic, background music, the occasional aeroplane, roommates washing dishes and chatting; the sounds of life. Turn this one up and listen closely - through the mic hiss and ambience you will hear Eli quietly sharing his thoughts about music, guitar, the administrative toil behind the craft, and mental health in an insecure industry built on artistic expression.
We discuss the joys of musical collaboration, and Eli's good fortune of playing with an incredible range of stellar musicians. We explore the influence of jazz, british folk music, and even slivers of country music that seep into the incredible songs he has crafted over the course of three albums. I stand by the claim that his most recent, self-titled solo album is a pioneering work in the country-jazz fusion genre (not sure if Eli agrees, but he very politely chuckles at the proposition).
Most exciting for me, however, are the discussions around how Eli got into discovering his own music tastes by stumbling across albums by Weird Al Yankovic and The Shins (and being overwhelmed with anxiety over whether or not to buy these strange, perhaps even taboo albums), and playing Guitar Hero as a kid. We learn that even Eli has his own stash of parody songs, that perhaps someday we will be privileged to hear (apparently there is a Born In the USA spoof in there somewhere).
The discussions around his song titles, and the "non-musical" factors which inform his work take both a lewd, lighthearted, and simultaneously sombre turn. From his debut record being framed by the destruction wrought by Hurricane Harvey in his home city of Houston, Texas, to the unintentional sexual innuendo that seems to imbue a significant number of his song and album titles, his art seems to embrace both the tragedy and comedy of our absurd existence.
But we talk about so much more, and I gotta say - Eli is such an incredibly thoughtful, humble and kind person, and one of the absolute finest guitarists making music right now. Go buy his albums, get tickets to his shows - he's going on tour tomorrow and you won't be disappointed.
Thank you for listening.
As winter melts away in the southern hemisphere, and autumn begins to fall upon the north, we are joined this week by the singular Eli Winter. His elegant, articulate playing is matched only by his soft-spoken, honey-toned voice, and gentle approach to conversation.
Eli joins us from his home in Chicago for a thoughtful chat, and throughout the conversation you can hear the sounds of traffic, background music, the occasional aeroplane, roommates washing dishes and chatting; the sounds of life. Turn this one up and listen closely - through the mic hiss and ambience you will hear Eli quietly sharing his thoughts about music, guitar, the administrative toil behind the craft, and mental health in an insecure industry built on artistic expression.
We discuss the joys of musical collaboration, and Eli's good fortune of playing with an incredible range of stellar musicians. We explore the influence of jazz, british folk music, and even slivers of country music that seep into the incredible songs he has crafted over the course of three albums. I stand by the claim that his most recent, self-titled solo album is a pioneering work in the country-jazz fusion genre (not sure if Eli agrees, but he very politely chuckles at the proposition).
Most exciting for me, however, are the discussions around how Eli got into discovering his own music tastes by stumbling across albums by Weird Al Yankovic and The Shins (and being overwhelmed with anxiety over whether or not to buy these strange, perhaps even taboo albums), and playing Guitar Hero as a kid. We learn that even Eli has his own stash of parody songs, that perhaps someday we will be privileged to hear (apparently there is a Born In the USA spoof in there somewhere).
The discussions around his song titles, and the "non-musical" factors which inform his work take both a lewd, lighthearted, and simultaneously sombre turn. From his debut record being framed by the destruction wrought by Hurricane Harvey in his home city of Houston, Texas, to the unintentional sexual innuendo that seems to imbue a significant number of his song and album titles, his art seems to embrace both the tragedy and comedy of our absurd existence.
But we talk about so much more, and I gotta say - Eli is such an incredibly thoughtful, humble and kind person, and one of the absolute finest guitarists making music right now. Go buy his albums, get tickets to his shows - he's going on tour tomorrow and you won't be disappointed.
Thank you for listening.