My fourth album, The Great Divide, is yours to listen to. It is hard to even begin to describe what these last few years making this album has felt like. The collision of fear and pressure and joy and luck and total love has left me wordless, and if you know me personally, I hardly ever shut my mouth. I spent many months walking forward in complete darkness, hands out in front of me, desperate to touch something familiar that would show me I was near the light switch again. As lonely as it felt, and as unfamiliar as the world seemed in those moments, I was never really alone. I don’t think any of us ever truly are. I was guided through the wilderness by calm voices, by the stillness of my home state, by the total commitment of my band, producers, and team, by the steady and loving touch of my wife and family, and of course, by the constant and enduring encouragement of you all, who I am so lucky to have as fans. I am very proud of what we are doing together and I hope we can live this dream for a long long time
https://t.co/stSzorkE4f
It’s here. It’s yours, it’s mine, it’s ours. It’s an album I wrote alone about the whims, fantasies, heartaches, dramas and tragedies I lived out as a young woman between 18 and 20. I remember making tracklist after tracklist, obsessing over the right way to tell the story. I had to be ruthless with my choices, and I left behind some songs I am still unfailingly proud of now. Therefore, you have 6 From The Vault tracks! I recorded this album when I was 32 (and still growing up, now) and the memories it brought back filled me with nostalgia and appreciation. For life, for you, for the fact that I get to reclaim my work. Thank you a million times, for the memories that break our fall. 💥🐉🏰 Speak Now (MY VERSION!) is out now.
https://t.co/m3KNl71qrY
📷: Beth Garrabrant
You can’t go to work, to the MALL, to the grocery store, to your church, to the movies or the bank.
You can’t attend a concert, go to a dance class or go to see your doctor. You can’t ring a doorbell, use a leaf blower, hop in a car, pull down a driveway, bounce a ball, or ask the neighbor to keep it down.
You can’t check out a farmer’s market or mail something at the post office or go to a parade, and you certainly can’t send your kids to school without worrying that someone will get shot.
That someone you LOVE will get shot.
Or that YOU will get shot.
This is where we are now.
This is not normal.
And this is not fucking ok.
It’s NOT fucking ok.