Big HollerAlt Country from Richmond, VA.

Suburban cowboy dads looking for a patch of grass.

The songs come out of the gap between the life we're actually living and the one we pictured. School pickup, a mortgage, a group text about weekend logistics — and underneath all of it, a memory of driving to JMU to see a girl, drinking more than we should have with people we loved, and letting the Blue Ridge take the hangover off on the way home.

Our fathers walked into a country that handed them a deal. We're still working out what happened to it, and whether they knew what they had. Somewhere past all that is our version of the good life. We can't picture it yet. We keep writing toward it anyway.