IBMA-award winning multi-instrumentalist and producer…
…Cody Tinnin is a person in flux. After nearly ten years relentlessly recording, performing, and touring with his progressive string trio Stillhouse Junkies, he made the difficult but necessary decision to tend to his mental health and well-being, and left the band. “There was this moment that forced me to take a break. I had to sit with it and grow through it and do some heavy personal work to get to where I could clear my head and fully make this decision: ‘Alright man, it’s time to get to work.’”
Tinnin has been a prolific writer throughout his career, including penning songs for the Stillhouse Junkies, and recording his own solo banjo album, Perennial, but for the first time, Tinnin is focusing specifically on writing tunes that reflect who he is, where he has been, and what he really wants to say.
“It’s coming from darkness. It’s a lot of therapy and reflection. Wondering ‘What is the point of it all?’ It would have been easy to bail out of the industry all together, but I don’t want to. It’s a compulsion. It’s what I have to do with my life.”
Tinnin’s new material finds him stepping back from the upright bass to lean into his skills as a songwriter and band leader, and embracing the guitar as means of communicating— and communing— with listeners. Big, airy, open arrangements featuring a full band and a more atmospheric sound, while retaining Tinnin’s instinctive knack for imagery and metaphor.
“[This material] is more open and vulnerable, and it’s been really interesting to try to both determine what is best for the song while also letting it come naturally and not overthink it. Not judge myself or what’s coming out. Silencing my inner critic so that the real stuff can come out. Really letting my walls come down as an artist and a person.”
For Tinnin, the purpose of this material isn’t to create a vehicle through which he can get back on the road. Instead, it’s about the work of maturation, of change, and the liminal spaces that change creates. It’s about feelings becoming flesh, grief becoming growth, and vulnerability becoming great strength— even if the path you’re on isn’t the path you would have chosen.
“Deep down? It’s scary. Three months ago I would never have wanted to pursue a solo thing. But the material showed up, and it didn’t stop. I’m just trying to write as true as I can and be as fully myself as possible. I’m not sure how many of the people who dig what I’ve done so far are going to dig what I’m doing now.” he says. “But I really believe in these songs.”