I wrote this song a year ago. It's taken many forms.

It started from a dadaist dream I had where my therapist told me I couldn't see her anymore. The song was titled Epitaph for B.L.O.; it sounded like The National and Sufjan Stevens.

I shared it with her, and she thought I was going to kill her.

It developed further when my unrequited feelings for a new friend cost me entire circles. The song was titled Crystal Clear; It grew a folk, country palette that the song holds now.

Several months ago, at some point, it became Everything. About 75% of it existed the exact same as it does now. Still, there was something missing. I would tinker and toy with it, stretching it in different directions to see if that would help Everything feel finished.

Several weeks ago, I would stretch it into a song about my partner's disapproving friends finding out we were sleeping together. Everything was sardonic, which, while having some initial appeal, tasted sour after a while.

Two weeks ago, I went to The Brothers Lounge to perform at their weekly open mic. I played Everything, and afterwards a fiddler named Finn asked if he could perform on one of the songs.

"Especially the one in the minor key," he said.

I suddenly felt excited about Everything again. The performers at The Brothers Lounge are something special. Every Tuesday, veteran musicians gather and perform for each other. There is no ego, no reward, no grift. It's a place where Sorry for Interrupting feels cohesive ideologically.

My background is in film - where collaboration is virtually required.

When you're working with a Director of Photography, you're trusting their eye and bringing them on set to capture that look.

When you're working with actors, you're casting them to capture their performance. The best directors are not marionetting their actors, but letting them practice the craft they have studied for years. Not only does this lead to people wanting to continue working with you, but the project itself tends to get better results without the micromanaging.

I borrowed a MixPre-6 to record Finn's audio. The host, Poor Duncan, was nice enough to let us record right there at Brothers right before open mic. I wanted to record in a place Finn was familiar and comfortable with. I had him lav'd up and used the house mic to capture his fiddle. I sent the audio from my phone into another channel so Finn could wear headphones and play along in time with the recording.

And that was all I did. I operated the mixer and let Finn practice the craft he has studied for years.

Finally, Everything was changing again in a way that felt productive. We only had enough time for two takes (I rolled on rehearsal), and in typical Sorry for Interrupting fashion, two takes were all that was needed.

With such a strong lead provided by Finn's fiddle, I wanted to provide a rhythm section that could really support it.

So, I reached out to Tim Mcdonald, a Yamaha-sponsored, Nashville session and touring keyboardist. He had done some early work on Lookout Below before I scrapped everything and decided to just use my iPhone voice memo.

Tim has a Hammond B-3 that sounds absolutely gorgeous. However, he apologized, telling me that a recent injury prevented him from accessing his Hammond upstairs. He said he's only using MIDI Hammond for now.

I told Tim I needed Tim Mcdonald, not Tim Mcdonald's real Hammond.

Tim would end up providing more than just Hammond, but Wurly and upright bass, too. Again, Everything stretched from the little world it stemmed from. There was a softness, a brighter approach that evened out the edge Finn and I brought. Tim saw hope in Everything. It had been a long time since I heard any hope in Everything.

Sorry for Interrupting is very precious to me because it's allowed me to be myself. Its purpose is a reminder I can exist without needing to do anything more.

I think there's another purpose, though. It's always existed inside this project, but it's never been clearer before. There is an allure to this method of stacking stems like a new color on canvas; capturing an essence left behind beautiful souls.