Every so often, someone asks me what kind of music Harbor Vale makes.
And every time, I find myself trying to come up with an answer that doesn't turn into a five-minute explanation.
Is it country? Sometimes.
Pop? Absolutely.
Rock? Depends on the song.
R&B? There's some of that, too.
I've never had a particularly good short answer, and honestly, I've stopped thinking that's a problem.
Because I don't think music needs to fit neatly into one category to be worth listening to.
And I certainly don't think every song I write needs to sound like the one that came before it.
I Start With a Story, Not a Genre
I understand why people ask about genres.
They're useful. They help people discover music, they make playlists easier to navigate, and they give you a general idea of what you're about to hear.
If you're in the mood for country, you probably want to hear something that sounds like country. Fair enough.
But I've never approached songwriting by deciding that I need to write a country song, or a pop song, or a rock song.
I usually start with something I want to say.
A memory. A relationship. A moment that stuck with me. Something that made me laugh. Something that hurt. Or sometimes just a feeling I can't quite explain until I start putting words around it.
And once I understand the story, I start thinking about how it should sound.
Because not every story wants the same music.
A song about finally recognizing a relationship for what it was probably shouldn't sound like a carefree Saturday afternoon on the water.
And a song about enjoying life with your friends probably doesn't need the same atmosphere as one about regret, heartbreak, or finding the courage to move forward.
The emotion should help determine the sound.
Not the other way around.
Different Albums, Different Chapters
If you've listened to more than one Harbor Vale album, you've probably noticed that they don't all sound alike.
That's intentional.
No Looking Back lives in a more reflective, atmospheric space. Those songs deal with relationships, difficult realizations, and the process of accepting things you can't change. I wanted the music to give those emotions room to breathe.
Then there's Not My Circus.
That song has a completely different personality. It's about recognizing other people's drama and making the very healthy decision not to participate.
That story doesn't need a sweeping, emotional arrangement. It needs a groove, some attitude, and a little humor. So it naturally found its way toward R&B and soul-pop.
Windows Down and Under The Summer Sun live somewhere else entirely.
Those songs are about sunshine, being outside, good friends, warm nights, and making memories. There's a country-pop influence there because that sound fits the world those songs are describing.
Then there's Not Done Yet, which leans into heartland rock and bigger, more driving arrangements.
Songs about getting knocked down, finding your strength, and refusing to give up should feel like they have some fight in them.
And Dock Lights and Alibis might be my favorite example of all.
That album tells a story from beginning to end. The songs connect, the perspectives shift, and the duets add another dimension to what's happening. Americana and country-soul felt like the right home for that story.
It's one of my favorite things I've written, not because it fits into a particular genre, but because the entire album feels like one complete experience.
If I'd forced all of those projects into the same musical style, I think something important would have gotten lost.
Not the genre.
The feeling.
My Musical Taste Has Never Fit in One Box Either
I think part of this comes from the way I've always listened to music.
I've never understood the idea that you're supposed to pick one type of music and stay there.
I can appreciate a great country song, an emotional rock ballad, a catchy pop chorus, or a soulful R&B track.
Sometimes I want something that makes me think.
Sometimes I want something that makes me feel.
And sometimes I just want something loud enough to sing along to in the car without caring how ridiculous I sound.
I don't think those things are mutually exclusive.
And I don't think enjoying one type of music means you have to stop enjoying another.
When I think about the songs that have stuck with me over the years, they're not necessarily connected by genre.
They're connected by the way they made me feel.
A melody I couldn't get out of my head. A lyric that described something I hadn't been able to put into words. A chorus that made an ordinary day feel a little better.
That's what I want Harbor Vale songs to do.
The Challenge of Not Having One Sound
Now, there's a downside to all of this.
I recognize that.
When you don't commit to one genre, you run the risk of confusing people.
Someone might discover Harbor Vale through a country-pop song, listen to the next album, and wonder why they're suddenly hearing something closer to alternative rock.
Someone else might love the reflective songs and have absolutely no interest in the lighter, more playful ones.
And from a music discovery standpoint, I know it would probably be easier to pick one lane and stay there.
But I don't want to write the same album eight times.
I don't want every song to have the same tempo, the same arrangement, or the same emotional destination.
And I definitely don't want to feel like I have to squeeze a story into a particular sound simply because that's what someone expects Harbor Vale to be.
The challenge, then, is figuring out what makes all of these songs feel connected.
Because if every album sounds completely different, at some point the catalog could start to feel like eight different artists.
That's something I think about.
And I've realized that the consistency doesn't necessarily have to come from the instrumentation or the genre.
It can come from the songwriting.
What Makes a Harbor Vale Song a Harbor Vale Song?
For me, it starts with the words.
I like plain language. I like songs about situations people recognize. I like lyrics that sound like something someone might actually say in a conversation.
I don't think every line needs to be some complicated metaphor.
Sometimes the simplest way to say something is also the most powerful.
I also love a good melody.
A chorus that sticks with you after one listen. Something you can sing in the car, hum while you're doing something else, or find yourself coming back to without really thinking about it.
And I like songs that go somewhere.
Maybe they start with uncertainty and end with acceptance. Maybe they start with frustration and end with a little perspective. Or maybe they start with a group of friends having a good time and end with absolutely nothing more profound than the realization that it was a pretty great day.
Not every song needs a life-changing lesson.
But I do think every song should have a reason for existing.
That's the common thread I try to carry through everything I write.
Real experiences. Recognizable emotions. Memorable melodies. And a story worth telling.
The sound around those things is allowed to change.
So What Does Harbor Vale Actually Sound Like?
I've tried to come up with a description that captures everything without turning into a paragraph.
The closest I've gotten is:
Cinematic, genre-fluid melodic music with Americana roots.
It's a mouthful, I know.
But I think it's accurate.
Cinematic because I love music that creates a scene or a feeling. Something you can almost picture happening while you're listening.
Genre-fluid because I'm not interested in limiting myself to one musical style.
Melodic because a strong melody and a memorable chorus are important to me, regardless of what kind of song I'm writing.
And Americana roots because even when the sound moves toward pop, rock, or soul, there's usually some influence from storytelling traditions that feel grounded and familiar.
That's probably as close as I'm going to get to a neat little description.
And I'm okay with that.
I Think Most of Us Listen This Way Anyway
Here's something else I've noticed.
I don't think most people listen to music exclusively by genre anymore.
Think about your own playlists.
You might have a country song followed by a pop song, followed by something from the 1990s, followed by a track you heard in a movie, followed by something you discovered last week.
And none of that feels particularly strange.
You just like the songs.
Sometimes you pick music based on your mood. Sometimes it's the weather, the people you're with, or what you're doing.
A summer afternoon on the boat calls for something different than a quiet drive home after a long day.
A backyard party needs something different than a night when you've got a lot on your mind.
And a song that meant everything to you five years ago might hit completely differently today.
Music becomes part of the moments we live through.
That's what I want to create.
Songs that fit different parts of life, because life itself doesn't stay in one emotional place.
What's Next for Harbor Vale?
My newest album, Still Figuring It Out, leans into modern melodic pop-rock.
It's about personal growth, relationships, accepting your imperfections, and learning to appreciate life while you're still working through it.
It's a different sound from Dock Lights and Alibis. It's different from Not Done Yet. And it's certainly different from some of the lighter summer songs.
But to me, they all belong in the same catalog.
Because they're all different sides of the same person, telling different stories from different moments in life.
And the next album?
It might sound different again.
In fact, I'd be a little disappointed if I stopped exploring new sounds altogether.
There's too much great music out there, too many interesting influences, and too many stories that deserve their own personality.
I don't want to stop being curious about what a song could become.
The Only Label That Really Matters to Me
At the end of the day, I don't particularly care whether someone calls Harbor Vale country, pop, rock, Americana, or something else entirely.
I care whether the song connects.
Did it make you smile? Did it remind you of someone? Did it bring back a memory? Did you find yourself singing the chorus the next morning?
Did it make an ordinary drive a little more enjoyable?
If it did, then I think the song accomplished what it was supposed to.
I don't expect everyone to love every Harbor Vale album. Some people are going to connect with the emotional songs. Others are going to prefer the fun ones. Some will love the country influences, and others will gravitate toward the rock or pop side.
That's perfectly fine.
I'd rather have a catalog full of songs that mean something than a catalog where everything sounds the same simply because it's easier to categorize.
So if someone asks me what kind of music Harbor Vale makes, I'll probably still struggle to give them a short answer.
Maybe I'll just tell them to listen.
Find the songs that fit your life, your mood, and your memories.
And don't worry too much about what genre they belong to.
I certainly don't.
Explore Harbor Vale's Albums and Music
Thanks for listening.
Harbor Vale
