Welcome,

I have a new song called Dungarees officially releasing end of this week. You can hear it right now. Thank you for supporting my songwriting journey.

The reference track for my upcoming release—“Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come” by The Wombats—helped shape the tone. It also pushed me vocally—definitely outside my usual range, but a lot of fun to go for it.

Why did I pick this song as a reference? It had everything to do with the sound and very little to do with the lyrics. That said, its undercurrent may have subconsciously influenced the vibe of my song—hard to say.

The track, Dungarees, builds quietly. A J-Bass from Native Instruments Kontakt holds the center with a few bass flourishes in the chorus that kept things interesting for me. Drums start with Ableton’s 505 Core Kit, reinforced with extra kick layers for added weight. Fingerpicked guitars—split left and right with different tones—create width and a sense of conversation. From there, it opens up: soft vocal textures from Kontakt’s Vocalise 3 drift through, while SERUM fills in the edges with subtle pads and effects that give the song its glow. In the bridge, things turn more cinematic—a low, horn-like swell (almost like a distant ship rolling in) meets jittery, birdlike staccato synths that push into the final chorus. It’s a bit of tone painting that ended up being one of my favorite moments.

Lyrically, Dungarees captures a moment instead of trying to define it. The verses lean into tactile details—wet moss, summer heat, beds of leaves—pulling you into something real and grounded.

The chorus centers everything:

“It’s not that I’m hopeless, but hope needs a break.” I like that line, though I’m not exactly sure why.

It feels less like giving up and more like letting go. That idea lands in the image:

“Sunning on a warm rock in our dungarees.”

Simple, specific, and easy to step into—two people sharing a quiet, unforced moment. “Not Happy, Not Sad” says it best: it’s about being present without needing to push things further.

My songs are rarely, if ever, autobiographical. I tend to think more like a screenwriter capturing a setting or an author writing a short story.

At its core, I think this song is about ease—letting a moment be enough.

Thanks for the support—I appreciate it. Newsletter folks already have the password (thank you!). If you’re not on it yet, join here and I’ll send it over—Dungarees is ready.

Peace,
Dave