McAllister’s intimate anthem “Confidence in Sadness” lights a spark in the darkness, wrestling with restlessness in an impassioned attempt to make peace with one’s inner demons.
A funny thing happens when we fully embrace our darkness: A little light shines through. We’re better off being true to ourselves than running from the truth, no matter how flawed we think we are. McAllister’s intimate anthem “Confidence in Sadness” lights a spark in the darkness, wrestling with restlessness in an impassioned attempt to make peace with one’s inner demons.
Welcome to my mind
Welcome to my world
I can’t seem to find a place in the middle
When all eyes are on you
Can you really shine?
‘cause I can’t seem to
find a place in the middle
Listen: “Confidence in Sadness” – McAllister
Atwood Magazine is proud to be premiering “Confidence in Sadness,” McAllister’s incredible new single. The Fort Worth, Texas-based band of Ty McAllister, Kelsey Barker, Steven Baker, Seth McClure and Jordan Green, McAllister introduced themselves less than a year ago with their ambient and seductive debut “Better Off,” embarking down a path of heartfelt indie rock/pop and never looking back.
“Confidence in Sadness” finds McAllister hitting a new peak, employing those musical and lyrical elements already present a year ago to craft a perfectly introspective upheaval of emotion. “Welcome to my mind, welcome to my world,” Ty McAllister sings, inviting us to join him in his struggle for balance from the very start. We’re drawn closer from the very start; “I can’t seem to find a place in the middle,” he shares plaintively. Such a deep, humbling admission could easily form the very crux of any song, but for McAllister, it’s only the beginning.
Warm harmonies melt into pulsing guitar riffs to form a dynamic and engaging bed of sound. Meanwhile, Ty McAllister folds into himself, diving inward to make peace with something he has struggled with all his life.
All I see is in front of me
and all I know is I’ve got to go
I’ve got to go
“I’ve found that melancholy is a natural state for my mind,” McAllister tells Atwood Magazine. “I am confident that melancholy will endure in my mind, and the melancholy knows that it has found a home in my mind. A match made in heaven. Why am I so self-destructive? Why do I wish for failure at times in the way that I act?“
He continues: “Despite all of this, there is a gladness in me, I am sure of it. But it is only visible after briefly scouring my being, up close. I am my own worst enemy. I can bring more destruction to myself than I could ever throw at anyone else. Why do I hate me? Why do I call down the darkest of nights on my own soul?“
There’s an army surrounding
and they hate my guts
The army is me & I can’t find relief
Why do I hate me?
Why do I call down
The darkest of nights on my own soul?
What they may or may not realize at this time is that, by invoking such depth of feeling – by letting this provocative tension loose into the world – McAllister have made a veritable safe space in which all who ache and suffer may dwell, seek shelter, and find respite from their troubles. “Confidence in Sadness” is a truly unique anthem: Acknowledging that depression, anxiety, insecurity, or any form of melancholia may be a natural part of our very being, the song encourages us to blow past these “faults” and be our best selves in spite of them, together with them. We’re still amazing.
Embittered and empowering, McAllister’s new song is a dramatic and fiery confession that will catch you by surprise, and never let you go. Infectiously endearing, meaningful and inspiring all at once, “Confidence in Sadness” turns angst and turmoil on their heads: When life gives you lemons… right?
Stream “Confidence in Sadness” exclusively on Atwood Magazine, ahead of its worldwide 4/20/2018 release. Connect with McAllister via their socials below for more propulsive music dealing with real, powerful subject matter, and consider sharing “Confidence in Sadness” with those who’ll most benefit from its message: Sometimes music truly can make a difference.
— — — —
📸 © Chris Hardy