As he closes ‘The Hours’ trilogy, genre-blurring artist Cautious Clay reflects on collaboration, self-care, authenticity, and holding onto emotional openness in an industry where relationships can quickly become transactional.
Stream: “Trail Mix (3PM)” – Cautious Clay
Writing is always just a deep headspace based on experiences I’ve had and random places I’ve gone… where I actually make the music doesn’t really matter to me. I could make music in space.
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Since debuting in 2017, Cautious Clay (Joshua Karpeh) has built a career around musical curiosity.
The singer/songwriter, producer, and multi-instrumentalist has created a catalog that moves fluidly between indie, R&B, soul, jazz, folk, reggae, and electronic music. His work has never fit neatly into a single genre. Whether writing about relationships, identity, memory, or self-discovery, he pairs meticulous production with lyrics that leave room for reflection.
That curiosity has carried through The Hours trilogy. Beginning with The Hours: Morning and continuing through The Hours: Night, the project uses different times of day to explore changes in mood and perspective. While Morning greeted the day with bright, conversational songwriting rooted in alternative R&B, indie pop, jazz, and soul, Night turned inward, embracing darker textures and a more introspective perspective.
High Noon occupies the space between those worlds. As the trilogy’s final chapter, it captures the “nebulous” feeling of the afternoon, drawing on reggae rhythms, down-tempo grooves, and subtle folk influences that reflect the calm focus of midday. “Green Screen” and “Trail Mix” take on mortality, identity, emotional connection, and the tension between physical and emotional intimacy.
Finishing the trilogy also gave Cautious Clay a chance to consider the creative process itself. Our conversation stretched beyond the music into collaboration, authenticity, self-care, and navigating an industry that can often feel transactional. We discussed the importance of remaining emotionally open in a world that frequently rewards detachment, the ideas behind “Trail Mix,” and the perspective that comes from recognizing how finite life really is. As he explained while discussing “Green Screen,” “Everything you do is the first and the last time that you might do it in that exact way.” The thought feels particularly relevant to High Noon. There is no way to repeat a moment exactly, whether it happens between two people or in the process of making something together.
Atwood Magazine caught up with Cautious Clay on the afternoon of High Noon’s release in late July.
Our conversation unfolded much like the album itself. It was slow, thoughtful, rhythmic, and intentional. We took our time. He would occasionally pause to carefully consider his words before responding. Those pauses became part of the rhythm of our conversation. By the end, finishing the trilogy felt less like a neat conclusion than an opportunity for Karpeh to consider where he is now, what he values about making music with other people, and what he wants to carry with him into whatever comes next.
The Hours: High Noon is out now via Fantasy Records, a Concord Label Group imprint.
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:: stream/purchase The Hours: High Noon here ::
:: connect with Cautious Clay here ::
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‘The Hours: High Noon’ – Cautious Clay
A CONVERSATION WITH CAUTIOUS CLAY
Atwood Magazine: High Noon concludes the trilogy you began in 2025 with Morning and Night. How does High Noon capture the nebulous middle ground between daylight and dusk?
Cautious Clay: I think it captures it through a certain energy and focus that that time period brings. It brings a certain level of focus and calm. Sonically, it feels like it’s in a mid-tempo reggae, folk realm more than the other two, which occupy a different sonic palette. It’s a little bit of the morning feeling, but with a softer, easier sound while still having tempo and energy.
I don’t really know how to describe it, but to me the whole project was just, “This is the noontime.” It is a little bit nebulous, and for me reggae and more down-tempo music felt like the afternoon.
You’ve noted that the album allowed you to experiment with reggae rhythms and down-tempo textures. What drew you to that?
Cautious Clay: That’s really just what felt like the afternoon to me.
The lead single “Green Screen” frames life as an open canvas. What inspired that perspective?
Cautious Clay: I feel like, life, itself. For lack of a better word. You really do only live once. Everything you do is the first and the last time that you might do it in that exact way. I think it’s a little existential. It’s a happy song, but the content of the lyrics is kind of existential. It’s realizing that we’re in somewhat of a simulation of our reality and time-space, so just live in the moment.
Everything you do is the first and the last time that you might do it in that exact way.
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With tracks addressing topics like missed connections or unconventional relationships with total candor, how do you balance heavy emotional honesty with sunny, warm instrumentation?
Cautious Clay: That’s kind of the way I like to write. Sunny instrumentation is nice because it’s juxtaposing the lyrics. I think it’s always nice to contrast a certain sonic palette with lyrics that don’t necessarily match. I’ve always found that interesting.
I was just listening to “Trail Mix,” and I feel like it has that element too. What were you thinking about when you wrote that song?
Cautious Clay: I was thinking about being in an open relationship and what that entails, but also understanding how people possess other people’s bodies in relationships, and how there may be a precedent for that. It’s about aligning yourself more with the mental connection you have with someone than the physical connection, and understanding the power of that within the dynamic that is life.
It’s more of an observation: “I know somebody else like you for me,” or “You know somebody else like me for you.” Maybe there’s physical attraction to someone else, but there’s something we have emotionally and mentally. There’s a line in the chorus, “Now I’m laughing all the way at my fears at the thought of your name,” and that’s basically saying that no matter what, your name and the person that you are will always be greater than any physical connection I have with someone else.
You started as a flutist and saxophonist before taking center stage as a singer/songwriter. How does that foundation shape the way you structure your songs now?
Cautious Clay: It’s been a long journey. As a musician, I had a very particular set of skills and perspectives, and as a writer, I’ve developed a lot over the last five to eight years. My flute playing and sax playing informed my connection to melody, and that informed my vocals and the way I deliver them. My writing style and approach to songwriting have matured and evolved. To me, they’re related but separate parts of the brain. They’ve informed each other in a multitude of ways.
It’s kind of like learning to ride a tricycle or a unicycle. There are certain things you need to balance, and there are similar mechanics to riding a regular bike, but there are all these other factors to think about. Constructing narratives in music and constructing productions feels the same way.
When you sit down in the studio, what instrument or piece of gear serves as the ultimate starting block when bringing a new concept to life?
Cautious Clay: Lately, I’ve been starting with piano. Synthesizers are also cool because you can kind of work backwards with them.
Having recorded across Cleveland, Brooklyn, and now Philadelphia, how have your changing surroundings impacted your sonic palette over time?
Cautious Clay: Some of these songs were written in many different places – sometimes L.A., sometimes here in New York, Brooklyn. But honestly, not very much. Writing is always just a deep headspace based on experiences I’ve had and random places I’ve gone. The fact that I travel definitely affects my writing, but where I actually make the music doesn’t really matter to me. I could make music in space.
You’ve produced and written for artists ranging from Billie Eilish and John Mayer to Q-Tip. What have all of those collaborations taught you?
Cautious Clay: That I love to collaborate. It’s the best way to make music, in my opinion. You catch fire, you catch lightning, you catch moments that will never happen again, and then they become reality. I think it’s a beautiful thing, and I think it’s the thing I’m best at.
The names are the names, and that’s awesome. Sometimes there’s a transactional nature to those experiences, but I think the true art is creating and having those moments. The process is actually so important to the outcome. I think that’s becoming less and less rewarded, but I find the process very rewarding because that’s where the magic is.
Obviously AI music and all that is interesting as a tool, but I think the process of creating and collaborating is what gives us the ability to even have things making music for us at such a high level. It creates dignity. It creates beauty. People who get to listen to it don’t necessarily know how that goes, but it is a very sacred and beautiful practice.
So, do you prefer collaborating to creating alone then?
Cautious Clay: Yeah. Definitely. I’ve been making so much on my own for so long. I can just make a song and jump into my own head, but sometimes my brain feels like a dangerous place, so I try to access it only when I need to.
What’s it like hearing your own playing or production work sampled and integrated by other major artists across different genres?
Cautious Clay: It’s really cool. It’s very flattering. It feels awesome knowing people are genuine fans. I feel very happy about it.
You often tackle social anxiety, boundaries, and relationship dynamics. What makes these nuanced, everyday experiences your favorite themes to explore?
Cautious Clay: I was talking about this the other day. I think I’m a very cynical person, but I’m also a very skeptical person. I’m only skeptical about the things that deserve that skepticism or questioning. The mysteries of life, relationships, communication, and community are all worthy of skepticism and exploration.
For me, it feels like a really beautiful way to engage with the world we’re living in. It involves raw, beautiful human connection – us having this discussion, someone talking to their boyfriend or girlfriend, meeting someone at a coffee shop. Those moments deserve exploration.
When I say skepticism, it sounds negative, but it’s really about questioning. People make a lot of judgments, and you have an opportunity to completely write something off or explore it. I choose to explore it if I deem that exploration worthy of my time. To me, that’s what music, lyrics, and writing embody. There are things we’re not going to explore – whether or not you or I deserve to exist on this planet because of how we came into this world, or whether you deserve food on your table. There are boundaries that I know exist. I feel very fortunate to be able to think about those things professionally.
Looking back across the entire Hours project, how have you seen yourself grow between the beginning and now?
Cautious Clay: Since I started Hours, it feels like ages ago. It’s been about a year and a half, so it feels kind of wild to finally be done with it. It almost doesn’t feel real. It’s like, “Wow, I did this thing that I’ve been working on for quite some time.” It feels very therapeutic. I feel like I’ve really been able to explore this concept in its totality.
I’m a different person than I was when I started, mostly because I’ve been through a lot personally. That also informed how I feel putting this music out. “Trail Mix,” for example – I’ve had that song for about four years. It’s not even really a super new song, but it still feels relevant to who I am and how I feel about my personhood.
I tend to write from the perspective of how I actually feel, but I don’t always live by those same measurements because, for me, writing is also my work. Sometimes I blur the lines between work and my actual life, and that can make you a little crazy. Sometimes I write something and think, “This is cool. This makes sense.” Then I ask myself, “Is this actually how I feel, or is this just something I’m writing?” Then I realize, “Yeah, it actually is how I feel.”
I kind of trick myself into writing how I actually feel. Some artists purposefully create worlds they aren’t personally living in, and I fully get that. I fully respect that. I think it’s a healthy way to live.
But you consider yourself more autobiographical in that sense, though?
Cautious Clay: Yeah, It’s taken me some time to admit that.
How do you plan to bring the distinct atmospheres of Morning, Night, and High Noon together into one cohesive live concert experience?
Cautious Clay: I think it’s going to look a little different than it has in the past, and I’m excited about it. I’m still going to play flute, sing, play guitar – all that stuff. I just want to put something together that’s special and intentional. To answer your question, I’m still figuring it out. I don’t have the full answer yet.
You switch between vocals, flute, saxophone, and guitar during your live shows. What’s the trickiest part of managing those instrument swaps without breaking the flow?
Cautious Clay: Remembering the setlist. Once I do that, it’s honestly not that difficult. It’s really just a matter of remembering all my cues – remembering we’re in G right now, not A, or we’re in B right now. It’s not bad. I think it’s really just the setlist.
The visual world of High Noon, including the video for “Green Screen,” feels really vibrant. How involved are you in directing the visual art alongside the music?
Cautious Clay: I was a little less involved with that one. I basically put together some ideas and thoughts, and then Travis Owens – shout out to Travis Owens – put together the treatment and made it all make sense. For “Trail Mix,” I actually wrote the entire treatment with the director. We were doing it frame by frame, shot by shot, deciding exactly what I wanted visually. It really depends on the scenario.
Sometimes I’m very involved. Sometimes I’m a little less involved. I’m always involved to a certain extent, but it’s really about knowing the strengths and weaknesses of the people I work with and trusting them to execute.
Now that the Hours saga is complete, does concluding this chapter feel like relief, or does it feel like the start of a blank slate?
Cautious Clay: It’s definitely a little bit of a relief. I’m feeling pretty excited artistically. Now it’s just a matter of being intentional about how I build the next chapter of my creative process and understanding, at a deeper level, what my role is going to be and what gives me excitement, autonomy, and depth in the work I do.
I want to be very cognizant of that because I’ve made a lot of music in my career, and I plan to make a lot more. I just want to listen to myself a little bit. I’ve spent so much time realizing how lucky I am to be able to do this for a living, but not saying, “Hey, you’re also a person, and you need to take care of yourself.”
I love being recognized on the street. I love being appreciated. I feel like I have really respectful, kind fans, and connecting with people that way never gets old. But I also need to remember to take care of myself. I’m trying to build habits and ways of engaging with my own needs that are healthy and sustainable as a creative practice.
What aspects of your career have made you realize you need to take better care of yourself?
Cautious Clay: I think I tend to seek admiration from people who probably aren’t worth my time. Or maybe they are, but it’s not a genuine connection. Sometimes in the creative field you start to blur the lines between work and friendship. I also think communication has been difficult. I need to get better at accepting that people aren’t always going to get back to you. There’s a lot of rejection, and that’s part of the job.
Sometimes you get farther along and think people respect you enough to at least give you an answer, and they don’t. That’s something I struggle with emotionally because I always try my best to give people an answer, even if it’s no. I don’t like that at all, and I struggle with it a lot.
Earlier you mentioned the transactional nature of some of these relationships.
Cautious Clay: Yeah, It’s super transactional. It’s super fake. That’s not me. I’ve worked with the biggest artists in the world, and that’s never been my way.
You see it at every level, and sometimes you wonder, “Am I giving that energy?” I’ve never wanted to be that person. To me, it’s just not interesting. I want to maintain that softness, empathy, and intentionality, but it’s really hard sometimes when you feel like it isn’t reciprocated.
What have been some of your most meaningful interactions with fans or listeners?
Cautious Clay: There’s been quite a few. I met this guy yesterday, actually. I walked into a boutique at some sort of wine event, and he had his paintings up in the gallery. He was like, “Oh my gosh, are you Cautious Clay? I loved your album Karpeh.”
I was like, “Wow, that’s cool.”
It really surprised me because I was just in Brooklyn on a random street, walking around by myself, and it was his painting show. I had stopped in just to get a shirt. He was super respectful and thoughtful. I told him, “Let’s be in touch.” I actually really liked his paintings. Stuff like that is really sweet.
I want to maintain that softness, empathy, and intentionality, but it’s really hard sometimes when you feel like it isn’t reciprocated.
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Does that happen often, or do you feel like you’re able to walk around somewhat unnoticed?
Cautious Clay: It probably happens three or four times a month. That’s honestly the perfect amount for me. It’s so reasonable. It’s always kind of like, “Wow, cool.” Especially because there are a million artists releasing songs every day, it’s nice knowing there’s a genuine enough connection for someone to come up and say something.
I also think about all the times people probably recognized me and didn’t say anything when it could have been a good interaction. It could have just been out of respect. I try not to think about it too much, but it’s cool.
If listeners could take away one core feeling or realization after listening to High Noon from front to back, what would you hope it is?
Cautious Clay: It’s a little corny, but I’d just say: Be yourself. Be your most authentic self if you’re able to, and the right people will want to be around you. Hopefully that’s what people get out of it.
Do you have any touring plans, or what’s next for you?
Cautious Clay: I’m doing an album release party next Tuesday. I’m also doing a listening event, and then I’ll probably do a residency later this year or early next year.
Are you planning on getting back into the studio anytime soon?
Cautious Clay: Maybe not for my own music, but for some other projects. I’m working on music for a TV show. There’s always some stuff in the works.
Is there a particular song from the album that you’re especially excited for people to hear?
Cautious Clay: Probably “Trail Mix.” I think that’ll be really cool to see people’s reaction to.
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:: stream/purchase The Hours: High Noon here ::
:: connect with Cautious Clay here ::
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