In an era where so much music feels manufactured for algorithms and endless scrolling, Wooden Overcoat arrives from an entirely different place — one built on isolation, experimentation, atmosphere, and raw emotional honesty.
Blending elements of dream pop, shoegaze, and psychedelic textures, the project’s latest work, Hello Sunbeam, explores fragility, identity, connection, and the strange beauty hidden beneath everyday life. What began as a deeply personal recording experiment eventually evolved into a full live band experience, bringing these immersive soundscapes from the bedroom into the real world.
In this exclusive interview with KJAGRadio.com, the artist behind Wooden Overcoat opens up about stepping away from digital noise, embracing creative freedom, the influence of filmmakers like David Lynch, and why authenticity matters more than chasing fame in today’s music industry.
“Finally Arrived” feels like it exists in a very immersive, almost dreamlike space—when you were creating it, were you chasing a specific emotional state or letting the sound guide you there?
The shift happened when I showed my friend Brian what I was working on and he said he’d play drums. I was learning how to do a bunch of recording stuff, just practicing and getting better at the process, and enjoying that side of things. There was never any concrete plan to move on to a live band but suddenly it was very real and moved like a runaway train. I’ve been trying to stay ahead of it ever since.
You’ve described the music as emerging from a period of digital isolation—how did stepping away from that constant connectivity shape both your songwriting and your perspective on human connection?
I think it was really good for me. We’re all inevitably shaped by our community and peers, but I think sometimes social pressures override or alter self-expression for the worse. Being true to myself is the most important thing and being off social media helped me get in touch with who I really am. There’s a recurring theme of fragility in relationships throughout your work—do you see your music as more observational, or is it rooted in personal experience?
It’s a mixture of both. I have a lot of experience with fraught relationships in my life, not just my own, so I’ve observed a lot but I think it’s fair to say it’s rooted in personal experience too.
Sonically, your work sits in that space between shoegaze, dream pop, and psychedelic textures—how conscious are you of genre when you’re creating, or does it all happen more instinctively?
I’m pretty conscious of it I think – those are the sounds I love. Lately the bands who inspire me the most make that kind of music. In a way it’s instinctive but I’m certainly making choices and aiming for a particular vibe. You handled nearly every aspect of the recording process yourself—what did that level of control allow you to achieve that might not have been possible in a traditional studio setting?
Mostly it gave me time to experiment. Paying for studio time and an engineer is very expensive and that dynamic adds a lot of pressure to a situation that should be free-flowing and fun. I don’t think what I did was perfect but I was grateful that I had freedom to try things that didn’t work without feeling like I wasted money. Another thing I’m really particular about is the mix and having things not be overworked. I wanted a specific kind of warmth that is hard to ask a professional engineer to do for some reason. You can easily end up in this revision cycle where you never really get the result you have in mind. The idea of “productive contradictions” comes through in both your sound and aesthetic—dark imagery paired with warmth and humor—how important is that contrast to your identity as an artist?
I think it’s a pretty foundational aspect of how I create – tension and release using elements that contradict and contrast. I’ve always loved the way David Lynch films like Blue Velvet or Mulholland Drive have this sunshine and happiness but underneath is something dark and disturbing. Blue skies, white picket fence, manicured lawns, and then they find someone’s ear in the grass. Much of the early material was written years ago and revisited later—did those songs take on new meaning when you returned to them, or did you try to preserve their original emotional intent?
They actually stayed pretty much the same – I feel like I honored the original intent I had when I wrote them. For the record, those songs are not on this EP. This project (Wooden Overcoat) did start with me recording an EP of old songs, but I wrote the songs for Hello Sunbeam afterward. That stuff from when I was a teenager is not available to listen to anywhere. The name Wooden Overcoat carries a certain weight and symbolism—how does that concept tie into the themes you explore in your music?
I think about life and death a lot – fragility of our world and our bodies, nature. Wooden Overcoat is a phrase used to describe a coffin but in a kind of lighthearted, fun way. I think it captures my intent with songwriting pretty well and has a mood I agree with. Your music often critiques the idea of fame and the illusion of becoming “larger than life”—what’s your relationship with that idea as an independent artist today?
There’s so much music out there and so many successful bands who make their entire living from their music, who I have never heard of. And probably never will. I think my perspective has changed about what it means to make it as an artist, and the industry has changed so much alongside me as well. I think it’s important to know and keep in mind that in today’s world you don’t need to be a star to have a successful, financially viable band. And that’s how I’d like to keep it. Now that you’ve assembled a live band after starting as a solo project, how has that changed the way you think about these songs and their evolution moving forward?
I definitely view these songs in a completely different way now. When I wrote them I would play them on an acoustic guitar, never really getting to hear them at stage volume with drums. I’ve learned a lot of valuable lessons, particularly about my vocal range and what’s realistic and comfortable to do when everything is pretty loud around me. I think it’s helped me tune into what really works for me and I feel like the result is a more authentic expression.
Looking ahead to Hello Sunbeam, what do you hope listeners take away from this body of work as a whole—emotionally or even philosophically?
I don’t really have any hopes about that, I’m not sure if anyone even hears or pays attention to the lyrics I’m singing. I mostly just want people to feel like I’ve done something true to me, and hopefully connect with the humanity in it.
As Wooden Overcoat continues evolving from a solitary creative outlet into a fully realized live experience, one thing remains clear — this project was never built to follow trends or fit neatly into a genre box. Instead, it exists as an honest reflection of emotion, atmosphere, contradiction, and human connection.
With Hello Sunbeam on the horizon, Wooden Overcoat seems less interested in becoming “larger than life” and far more focused on creating something genuine — music that feels lived-in, vulnerable, and true. And in a world flooded with noise, that kind of sincerity may be exactly what listeners are searching for.
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‘Finally Arrived’ video
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