At 38, Houndmouth's Matt Myers has learned that you don't need heartbreak to write great songs. His new album Lordy reflects a man finally comfortable in his own skin.
By Adam Makins·
It’s nearing the end of summer when Matt Myers, lead singer and guitarist of Houndmouth, stops on a corner in Burlington, Vermont to talk about falling in love. Behind him lies Waterfront Park, where he’ll open for the Head and the Heart that evening. With beads of sweat rolling down his neck amid a nationwide tour, the 38-year-old has something worth saying about acceptance.
“That changed everything. To finally be accepted, no matter what, by my wife and my friends,” Myers tells Rolling Stone. “Because I’ve always shown the same thing to people, and to get that reciprocated, that fucking rocks.”
Two years into his second marriage with two young daughters from his first, Myers has discovered something that most artists spend decades chasing: peace. That harmony permeates Lordy, Houndmouth’s new album released on Dualtone Records as one of the label’s centerpieces for its 25th anniversary year.
For the indie-rocker, Lordy is about recognizing your own reflection and making peace with the eyes looking back. Myers now proudly acknowledges the salt and pepper in his hair, the well-earned wrinkles from tours across America and back again. It’s a far cry from the baby-faced musician who formed Houndmouth in 2011, but he’s made peace with time’s passage.
Most artists operate under a crushing misconception: that great songs require great suffering. Myers has spent enough time in entertainment industry circles to know the myth well, yet couldn’t escape it.
“I knew that it was a misconception, but you still can’t escape it sometimes,” he admits. “It’s not that you have to be sad to create, but I’m happy at home. Now when I’m writing, the song doesn’t have to be grandiose. You don’t have to overthink. You can just write, edit, and then let the song be what it is.”
This philosophy represents a maturity that only comes from experience. Myers still lives in New Albany, Indiana, the town where Houndmouth was conceived, situated across the Ohio River from Louisville, Kentucky. That crossroads between Midwest and South has incubated numerous rock acts, and Myers paid his dues playing cover bands at Huber’s Winery and local bars, his fingers toasted after four-hour sets.
Eventually, Myers decided enough was enough. “I’m going to get my friends together. We’re only playing songs we write and we’re not making any compromises,” he resolved. The band’s name came from an internet generator, and things moved fast. South by Southwest performances caught the ear of Rough Trade Records, leading to Lollapalooza, Bonnaroo, and Newport Folk Festival bookings.
Their 2015 breakthrough album Little Neon Limelight delivered catchy singles like “Sedona” and “Darlin’.” Myers’ musical DNA runs through shoegaze indie-rock, blues, and alt-country. “I naturally tell stories and don’t embellish stuff, [where] it’s more personal,” he explains. “I didn’t have the drive to make up elaborate, lavish stories.”
As the only remaining founding member of Houndmouth (keyboardist Caleb Hickman joined in 2016), Myers has steered the band through evolution. Later offerings like “McKenzie” and “Miracle Mile” from 2021’s Good for You proved the staying power of his music approach, grounded in authenticity rather than reinvention.
Standing before Burlington’s City Hall Park, Myers reflects on the journey with clarity. “I remember being in that 24-year-old mindset where you really just don’t care about anything,” he says. “And getting back to that mindset now at 38, but also having way more wherewithal about it, and perspective. It seems more intentional this time.”
That’s the real story here. Not the rocket ship trajectory or the festival circuit credentials, but a man learning that wisdom doesn’t require sacrifice and that the best art often emerges when you stop performing suffering and start living authentically.
Source: Rolling Stone
Sometimes the most radical thing an artist can do is admit they’re happy.
