It’s been eight years and two kids since K.C. Clifford has made a record. A lot has changed in that time period — there are the two children she’s added to her family, more medical emergencies than anyone plans for, and an entire shift in the way listeners devour music made. But the biggest remains within herself.
The three-time Woody Guthrie Award-winning singer-songwriter has been making records since 2000. A lifelong vocalist, K.C. spent her childhood devouring the music her father listened to; a bluegrass musician and original member of Mountain Smoke, his large vinyl collection includes a 45 for every hit from the years 1955 to 1965, along with many others. Her father took a break from music to provide for their family, but music remained an important part of both of their lives.
Releasing on February 7th, 2020 her new self-titled album marks the first time K.C. has released an album based entirely around piano; it was produced by Will B. Hunt and features Daniel Walker on piano, Hammond organ, and pump organ; Raul Alfonso on bass; Mike Walker on drums; Randy Sanders and Jared Evans on guitars; Will B. Hunt on percussion; as well as a strings section and gospel choir. It was recorded at Castle Row Studios in Del City, Okla., and Spaceway Studios in Fort Worth, Texas, with strings coming in from Stevie Blacke at Launchpad Studios in Los Angeles. Within the twelve tracks on K.C. Clifford, she and co-writer Dan Walker approach topics that resonate deeply with K.C.
K.C. Clifford is about coming into your own, and celebrating all of the pieces it takes to get there. The work there is to do, the unexpected events along the way, and finally, eventually, celebrating what’s there.
Today Glide is excited to offer an exclusive premiere of K.C.’s new single “You Couldn’t Stay,” which centers around loss and grief. Accompanied by little more than her piano, K.C. sings with a powerful and emotive voice that conveys the heavy subject matter of the song. There is a rawness and an intimacy to the tone in her vocals that is accentuated by melancholy piano, and this is the kind of solo work that reminds us just how talented K.C. is as a singer, musician and songwriter.
K.C. offers her an in-depth description of the inspiration behind the song:
“Grief is an equalizer on the human playing field. No one is immune to it. Grief has no respect for our timelines, our plans, or our need to appear put together. Most of us operate on the surface of life’s ocean with little regard for grief’s impact until suddenly one day we find it’s our turn to be churned around in the undertow. Grief leaves us wondering if we will ever get to come up for air.
I was on stage with a friend recently. She looked out at the large crowd and remarked that if every person in the audience were to reach out to our left and right, in front of us or behind, chances are we would all connect with another human who has experienced deep loss. It’s an image that hasn’t left me, especially since we’re in the throes of the holiday season. During a time that is hyped as merry and bright, the grieving walk among us. In my own life, I can think of those grieving the loss of a spouse, a father, a child, a grandmother, a dear friend, a partner, a mentor, and a pregnancy. Traditions can never be the same, and the search for the so-called “new normal” leaves us navigating the season which brings not tidings of joy, but waves of sadness. There is an empty chair at the table, a stocking missing from the mantle. The holidays can serve as a magnifying glass making loneliness and loss loom large.
Every single one of us experiences grief in our lives. For some of us in 2019, the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s will be a painful exercise in merely surviving the next thing. We would do well to treat those around us with some additional care during this time of year: the cranky shopper behind us in line, the homeless panhandler, the friend who cancels plans, the weary cashier, the stressed-out co-worker, the high-strung neighbor. It’s true that we can never know what someone is going through in their life. If we held all those stories, so many of them would be hard to hear, sad, and painful. Even the simple act of speaking the name of those who have died can serve as a gift to the grieving. They need to know we remember because they can’t and won’t ever forget the ones they are missing. We can’t fix anything for the grieving among us, try as we might we can’t change their pain or rewrite the ending. But we can pause, make room for their grief, sit awhile, and hold space for their story.”
LISTEN:
For more music and info visit kcclifford.com.
Photo credit: Kriea Arie Photography
