I owe you an explanation…

After spending the better part of a year on “Among the Stars,” I reached the final stretch—and then I disappeared.

The weeks leading into release day are usually the most visible part of a project. They're when you're supposed to be everywhere: posting, promoting, running ads, following up, watching numbers, and trying to keep the momentum moving.

Instead, I hit the brakes.

There were a few reasons.

For starters, I was overly ambitious with the marketing budget I had planned for this EP. When I realized I couldn't afford to follow through on the full paid-ad plan through release and the weeks afterward, I pulled those campaigns. That was the first visible change.

I could have kept going with the organic content alone. I had the framework built and ready. But after four months of putting nearly every waking minute into marketing this music, I was burned out. I could not bring myself to keep pushing in the same way.

Then, five days before release day, something devastating happened.

After we played Moody Theater in Austin on May 30, our stage manager, Gus, was hit by a drunk driver and did not make it home.

The shock and grief of that loss changed everything. Promoting myself publicly didn't just feel difficult; it felt impossible to reconcile with everything going on.

At first, stepping away felt necessary. But as time went on, I worried that I had let you down—that I had quietly walked away from the community I had spent so much time trying to build.

I also found myself thinking deeply about the state of music right now.

Over the past few months, I have fallen down the rabbit hole of AI-generated music and its growing presence on streaming platforms and social media. I have seen music designed to mimic human experience, vulnerability, and emotion deployed with the same marketing strategies independent artists use to connect with listeners.

That's been disorienting to say the least. Especially for someone who has spent decades learning to write, play, record, and communicate through music.

But it has also clarified something for me.

I am still going to write and release songs. I am still proud of this work. And I'm gonna approach the process with more room for real life—more room for family, health, home, friendships, grief, and the reasons I started making music in the first place.

In spite of everything, “Among the Stars” has connected with people in ways I did not expect.

People I never knew were following my original music have reached out. Friends have sent cards and letters sharing what these songs meant to them. I have had conversations that reminded me that music can still create something real between people.

That is the part I want to protect.

I am deeply grateful for your patience through this quieter stretch. I expected people to drift away while I tried to make sense of everything, but you didn't. That has meant more than I can say.

I don't have every detail of the next chapter mapped out. What I do know is that I will not be returning to a routine built around daily social posting and compulsive campaign monitoring.

I have two more songs I want to share with you this year. I am not rushing them, and I have not settled on a release timeline yet—but I would truly love to bring you into the process.

Next week, I’ll begin sharing acoustic samples here in The Journey. These songs are at different stages of development, and I want to hear what stands out to you. Your feedback can help guide the production decisions and help shape where, when, and how these songs make their way into the world.

Thank you for being here—especially now.

Yours truly,  

Michael