Waterloo Records

John Moreland doesn�t have the answers, and he�s not sure anyone does. But he�s still curious, basking in the comfort of a question, and along the way, those of us listening feel moved to ask our own. �I don�t ever want to sound like I have answers, because I don�t,� he says. �These songs are all questions. Everything I write is just trying to figure stuff out.�

Moreland is discussing his new album Birds in the Ceiling, a nine-song collection that offers the most comprehensive insight into the thoughts and sounds swimming around in his head to date. A compelling blend of acoustic folk and avant-garde pop playfulness, Birds in the Ceiling lives confidently in a space of its own, enriched by tradition but never encumbered by it. The songwriting that has stunned fans and critics alike since 2015�s High on Tulsa Heat remains potent, while the sonic evolution that unfolds on the record feels like a natural expansion of 2020�s acclaimed LP5.

The New Yorker, Pitchfork, Fresh Air, Paste, GQ, and others have embraced Moreland�s meditative songs, while performances on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, CBS This Morning, NPR Tiny Desk Concert, and more have introduced Moreland to millions. And yet, while the Tulsa-based Moreland is grateful for the respect and musical conversation he�s now having with people around the world, he is also more focused on the idea of just talking to one person��or even himself. �Through the years, I�ve felt like I�m increasingly talking to myself in my songs, more and more,� he says. �Maybe in the past, I wasn�t aware of it, but now, I am. I think doing that has helped me be less hard on myself, which makes you more generous and compassionate in general.�

That helps explain why even if Moreland is reaching out to someone else, there is no judgment. �I�m in the same boat with whoever I�m talking to,� Moreland says. �

Moreland�s songs do feel intimate��like overheard conversations or solitary meditations. �I want to talk one-on-one to someone in a song,� he says. �I don�t want to address a group, really, because I think that�s when it�s easy to start pontificating��and it gets less honest.�

On Birds in the Ceiling, Moreland�s singing contributes to the feelings of hushed intimacy. Wielding a warm, sandpaper soul voice, Moreland got used to singing loudly as he began playing in bars, fighting to be heard over chattering crowds. �When I first started singing, I was very self-conscious about it,� he says. �I think I tried to affect my voice more. Singing loud could be a security blanket sometimes. On the new album, on a lot of the songs I was definitely making a conscious effort to sing quieter��almost whisper.�

Produced by Matt Pence and Moreland, Birds in the Ceiling is dynamic: a folk record that refuses to stay in its lane. It�s the second album for Pence with Moreland, who sees the former��a Denton, Texas-based engineer, producer, and drummer��as an ideal musical partner. �We have a lot of the same influences, and I have been really influenced by his bands,� Moreland says. �It feels really effortless.�

Letting things just be what they are is a powerful guiding force for Moreland, determining not just how he interacts with others, but how he treats himself. �When you remove boundaries and instead of holding back parts of yourself��when you say, �Okay, I�m going to put all of me into this,�� Moreland says, "You end up making music that nobody else could make.�

Birds in the Ceiling is available at local record stores on CD, Vinyl, and an Indie-Exclusive Blue Vinyl on July 22.