SUSTO + Futurebirds

Mobility has always helped define America. Don't settle for where you start. Find a new town, new coast, or new state of mind -- then make it yours. "We export this idea of getting in your car and going somewhere, trying to find something new, bouncing around," says Justin Osborne. "We live in some strange, crazy times. There is a sense of darkness. But I'm crisscrossing the country, and people are good and fun. There is a lot of beauty everywhere. I think not forgetting that is important."

Osborne is home in Charleston, South Carolina, reflecting on the personal journey and cultural climate that have led to Ever Since I Lost My Mind, the third record and label debut for his acclaimed project SUSTO. The album is a resounding triumph: a mix of new partnerships and collaborations with old friends, all anchored by Osborne's perceptive songs that explore connection, loss, and transience -- and the pain and joy each brings.

"Ever Since I Lost My Mind is very personal. This collection of songs came together over the course of a couple of years, and they all represent different moments," he says. "It felt cathartic writing all of them, and they were also all fun in different ways."

With a rock-rooted sound that doesn't shy away from radio-ready hooks, SUSTO keeps listeners engaged by refusing to occupy an easily defined space. Produced by Ian Fitchuck (Kacey Musgraves, Ruston Kelly) and featuring key input from Osborne's longtime creative sounding board Wolfgang Zimmerman, Ever Since I Lost My Mind defiantly experiments with synth embellishments, Latin heart, guileless folk, and more. Osborne's mellow vocals comfort without losing the ability to surprise -- delicate croons, growls, and occasional screams take turns.

Osborne wrote his first songs as a 14-year-old in small town South Carolina, sneaking time with his late grandfather's parlor guitar that his parents had actually forbidden him and his three rowdy brothers to touch. "So I'd go steal it out of my dad's closet whenever they were out of the house," he recalls. "It only had like three strings on it. I remember figuring out how to do barre chords, and I wrote a three-chord song about a girl I liked." Drawn to music and supported by parents who just hadn't wanted their boys to break a family heirloom, Osborne played in bands throughout high school, military school, and college.

But SUSTO didn't begin until Osborne thought he was walking away from music for good. Burned out after years of self-booking, self-management, and a relentless grind, he had played a farewell show with his then-band and was prepping for a move to Cuba. He set up an online home for SUSTO as a holding tank for demos he couldn't quite bear to toss.

When Osborne moved to Havana as part of a study abroad opportunity, he thought he was abandoning music for anthropology. But the Cuban musicians and artists he befriended had other ideas. They were among the first to see that SUSTO -- and the music that would ultimately fuel it -- captured him too well to remain an afterthought. Re-energized, he returned to the States half a year later and recorded SUSTO's first album. Just after the release of the band's self-titled debut album, Osborne faced a clear choice. "It was a weird moment. I just had to finally quit keeping one foot out of music and dive in. So, I got knuckle tattoos and haven't stopped trying to make this work since then," he says with a laugh. SUSTO's acclaimed sophomore album & I'm Fine Today made it even more clear that music and Osborne were meant to be.

In Latin American cultures, the word susto describes an intense fear understood as a condition of the soul -- an ongoing, spiritual panic attack. All of the letters of susto also appear in Osborne's full name. "SUSTO was this combination of phonetics and meaning -- it felt like me, like a name for myself," he says. "I chose the name SUSTO for the project because the meaning behind the word -- that deep fright -- was something I was experiencing, and songwriting felt like it was helping me cure it by helping me to process what was happening. Personally, it was a time of so many powerful transitions: abandoning my religion, losing touch with my family, and just having a general sense of being lost, without direction."

That nod to transition reverberates loudly throughout Ever Since I Lost My Mind. While SUSTO began as a band and still benefits from collaboration with peers, the new record also positions the project finally and firmly as what it's really always been: Osborne's vision. "I come from a background of being in bands, so it's hard for me to be comfortable taking complete control," he says. "Even being the only person in a promo photo was a hard thing for me to get used to. It's taken years for me to realize what SUSTO should be -- what it really is."

"Homeboy" kicks off the album. Osborne contemplates friends moving on from Charleston over jaunty acoustic guitar that evokes exploratory rambling before heavier electric guitar adds gravity to all the leaving. He didn't want loved ones to go, but then realized that in many ways -- even though Charleston remains home base -- he'd already left. "The whole album deals with these pulling-apart decisions -- not in a negative or a positive way, but in a reflective way," he says.

Sauntering "If I Was" is a lighthearted stroll through different identities and aspirations, followed by the optimistic yearning of "Weather Balloons," buoyed by punchy percussion and keys. Driving "Last Century" revels in timeless bonds revealed by details: "I can see you in the driveway, smiling, licking your left front tooth," he sings.

"Livin' in America" extols beloved U.S. cities and finding the right people in them. It's a self- aware ode, both gently sarcastic and totally sincere -- a timely love letter to a country whose defining quality today is often turmoil. Stripped down "Cocaine" skulks through dark corners, while "No Way Out" lounges in captivity that Osborne has no urge to escape. Gorgeous album closer "Off You" is bright and honest, an intimate moment of clarity mid-transition.

One of Osborne's favorite tracks, "Manual Transmission," was written on a cold day on tour in Norway when he was hounded by homesickness. He plays lead guitar on the track and relished the opportunity to express himself via aching strings in addition to words. "Esta Bien" soars sweetly and entirely in Spanish. "House of the Blue Green Buddha" is a love song that lands because of its whimsical specificity -- details from the home and closeness Osborne and his wife share.

The title track is a stunner: sad but hopeful, content but restless, nostalgic but progressive -- a beautiful encapsulation of the push and pull that shapes the entire record. Osborne's experiences with psychedelics also play a role, both in "Ever Since I Lost My Mind" and the album as a whole. Warned as a child that drugs would make him lose his mind, he now believes in the freedom and self-discovery that can come with letting go in various ways. He is also convinced that some people from his past think he's insane. "They think I'm a crazy hippie, and really, in a lot of ways, I guess I am," he says with a smile. "I feel more loving and more understanding."

That acceptance of himself and others may be SUSTO's defining trait. "I can lose my mind on stage sometimes -- I will break down and cry or have to keep myself from doing it," Osborne says. "I think about my grandad's guitar, all the bands I've been in, and just seeing these people responding to and connecting with the songs..." He trails off before grinning again and adding, "I just feel so incredibly lucky."

Rock juggernaut Futurebirds' newest EP, Bloomin' Too, is a benchmark that not only celebrates 13 years together, it's also a testament to the sheer iron will of a group of musicians hungry for the fruits of its labor.

"Futurebirds is the best it's been right now, far and away," says singer/guitarist Carter King. "We've been unintentionally carving out our own space since the beginning, since we never exactly fit in anywhere else musically. We were always too indie rock for the jam festival, too country for the indie scene, a little too psych-rock to feel like we were Americana. The music over the years just kind of created its own weird little ecosystem -- it's thriving and it feels great."

The Athens, Georgia-based group once again tapped storied My Morning Jacket guitarist/producer Carl Broemel in the latest chapter of this seamless, bountiful partnership that initially came to fruition with the 2021 EP, Bloomin.'

"Carl is extremely perceptive and an all-around smart dude. He's really in tune with what the band is and what it strives to be. He's engaged and understands our vision," King says. "He's a longtime hero of ours, and now is a friend and collaborator. It's wild. And it's great to be able to defer to someone you respect so much with creative decisions in the studio -- we don't just give that trust to just anybody."

Captured this past spring at the legendary Ronnie's Place in Nashville, Tennessee, the seven-song Bloomin' Too is a vortex of sonic textures. The album ricochets from cosmic space, rock to rough around the edges, alt-country dreamscapes, sandy beach bum odes to kick in your step pop ballads -- all signature tones and musical avenues at the core of the Birds' wide musical palette.

"This is probably the quickest turnaround we've ever had for a record -- we felt confident right when we got into the studio and just cranked it out," says singer/guitarist Daniel Womack. "All of our frequencies are aligned as a band, where we've got this free-flow of ideas happening. We're all on the same page right now and we have a lot of momentum going."

For Broemel, he finds a sincere kinship and solidarity with Futurebirds. Witnessing first-hand the band's blue-collar work ethic in the studio, Broemel was impressed and inspired by the 'Birds' democratic ways and means in how music is created and cultivated in the studio.

"Futurebirds have this unique vibe with three singer-songwriters in the band, where everyone is constantly shifting their function depending on the song," Broemel says. "Everyone just kind of falls into place and finds something to contribute. Someone will lead the charge on one song, then fall back and let another take charge on the next -- it's something rare to see and behold in rock music, where normally there's just one songwriter and one leader."

That camaraderie between founding members King, Womack, singer/guitarist Thomas Johnson and bassist Brannen Miles began when they were college students at the University of Georgia. In recent years, the quartet has added pedal steel player Kiffy Myers, keyboardist Spencer Thomas and drummer Tom Myers.

"It's the best feeling in the world to be up there onstage, to look across and see these other super talented dudes all stoked to be there," King says. "We're brothers and family and all that, but what's truly most impressive is that we've remained good friends on top of that. At the end of the day, for us, it's always been about having a good time. That's what keeps this thing moving."

From there, it's been endless miles on that old lost highway. It's this rollercoaster of emotions, thoughts and actions -- gig after gig, year after year -- where now the band will be making its debut at Red Rocks Amphitheatre for a highly-anticipated two-night run (Oct. 3-4) alongside indie-rock darlings Caamp.

"It was pure elation when we were offered Red Rocks," Womack says. "Everything we've been working towards has always included being able to play Red Rocks someday -- it's a big win for us and such a gratifying feeling."

And though Futurebirds have offered up another instant classic release with Bloomin' Too, the foundation of the group's ethos, attitude, and rabid fan base remains its live shows -- these undulating waves of sound, energy and passion spilling out onto the audience in this two-way street of respect and admiration.

"The line between the stage and the audience has always been blurred, and we've definitely carried ourselves that way since the beginning," Womack says. "The early days of rock-n-roll were about the mysticism surrounding musicians and bands. That's never been us. We want to embrace our fans, to actually hang out and get to know them -- they're all part of the BirdFam.'"

Reflecting on the last 13 years, King can only shake his head in awe of what has transpired over that time period for Futurebirds, personally and professionally. From playing empty dive bars to selling out theaters coast to coast, from college kids to now husbands and fathers -- the sacred flame of music, creativity and performance continually cradling and nurturing deeply-held dreams.

"You start out doing this solely because it's fun and you have no preconceived notion of what's going to happen or what it should be. And then, you get a taste of this possibly being your actual life," King says. "Maybe you get too serious about it, or too wrapped up in how you are being received, or the industry watermarks of success. But, life's just a perception game. It's about having fun and aligning yourself with the right people. The community that's built up around us has made it real easy to peel back all that brush and noise and see this thing for what it really is."