On the heels of his debut self-titled album release, Windser sat down with Racket to talk about everything from creative breakthroughs and gear geekery to oysters in Asheville and why therapy belongs in every musician’s toolkit. Despite the weighty themes in some of his songs — like the deeply personal “Abandoned” — Windser balances emotional honesty with an instinct for melody and sonic experimentation.
Racket: It’s your studio behind you.
Windser: Yeah, yeah, this is my studio. I’m just, I’m already starting.
Racket: To work on our studio work. You are selling your new studio looks, guitars. And I’m so jealous. Do you have a favorite? Do you have a go-to guitar that you pick-up-for-everythingm kind of utilitarian instrument?
Windser: I have, like, the guitar that I used on “Abandoned”—this one. It’s a 1960s Disco. I bought it on tour one year, and it sounds like nothing I’ve ever picked up before. Whenever I’m feeling stuck or like I need to get out of the norm and want something that doesn’t sound so stock, I usually pick up that thing, you know?
Racket: Oh, I like it. My five-year-old tried to convince me to buy a $5,000 SG. So I’m like, cool. Thanks. Great. Good for you.
As I was telling you through email, kind of getting into the questions here: So listening to “Abandoned”—first I read the press release and was prepping myself for something really emotionally heavy, childhood trauma and all that. Then I listened to it and thought, “This is really catchy—what is happening?” So I’m curious: When you’re working through those kinds of themes with this style of music, how does that process work? Do you find yourself writing melodies first? Lyrics? How does it all come together?
Windser: Well, with this song, I tried something new that I’ve never done before. I had literally been to a therapy session that day and had been talking about being abandoned by my father when I was a kid. It was fresh. I came back to this studio and just recorded a bunch of sounds—probably reflective of what I’d been feeling.
Then I turned the microphone on and just started to freestyle melodies—almost like a hip-hop artist, freestyling lyrics and melodies. It was the first time I’d ever done that—improvising the feelings I had, kind of like slam poetry, without structure. It all came down to editing. I took the best parts of the freestyles and edited them into a song—picked the catchiest parts. Anything that felt repetitive, I made sure to include. I’ve never done it that way before. Usually I sit with a guitar and go lyrics and melody at the same time, but this one turned my songwriting process inside out. I think that’s why it came out different than the rest of the record—it was more experimental.
Racket: And I think you recorded this at home and put it all together yourself?
Windser: Usually I write here in my studio in LA. But for this record—it’s my debut label album—we had more budget, so we went into a studio. I took the session and we rerecorded pretty much everything with session musicians. Some of the trippy reverb sounds from the demos made it into the final recording, and we recorded all the vocals. But yeah, we used the studio to get it across the finish line.
Racket: With those fun sounds, do you have a specific recording sound or technique that you particularly love?
Windser: In general? Yeah, there’s a lot of reverse echo stuff on the album. Like, record a guitar, reverse it, and make that into an ambient sample. There are ambient sample-like sounds, even though there are no actual samples—it’s all live instruments, which is crazy. I’ll write the drum loops sometimes. Also, lots of vocal layering. And spring reverb.
Racket: I like a spring reverb. That just triggered a memory—I took recording classes in college, and our professor hated late-’80s reverb on drums. Anytime he heard it, it was like, “Garbage hair metal!”
Windser: That stuff can sound cool in the right context! If you’re making hair metal, sure. But you also hear gated reverbs on McGee’s drums—he’s doing lo-fi R&B stuff—and it sounds awesome. I love Aphex Twin and that ambient ’90s synth stuff. I like incorporating early-’90s UK-sounding keyboards. I wouldn’t call the album synth pop—it’s a guitar album—but the synths are there, sprinkled in.
Racket: When you’re putting an album together versus writing a single song, how much interplay is there? Is it cohesive, or a collection of songs arranged later?
Windser: It’s the first album I’ve made, so I wrote a lot of songs before going into recording. By about song 30, we picked the ones that made the most sense. It had to be a cohesive story arc. Then, when recording, we made conscious gear choices to reinforce cohesion. It’s also a snapshot in time—we had a week in the studio and did two songs a day. Those limitations helped create that sense of unity.
Racket: Going from writing and performing to creating a full album—what surprised you most about that process?
Windser: Honestly, how fun it was. In the past, I’d do everything—write, record, produce, sometimes mix. But for this album, I let more people in. A drummer, bass player, keyboardist, guitar player, engineers, two producers, a mixer, a mastering engineer. That made it more fun. I could focus on playing guitar and singing. I sang for two and a half weeks until I felt really confident. It was daunting at first, but having everyone involved made it special.
Racket: Considering how personal this album is, was it tough letting people in to take over parts of it?
Windser: At first, yeah. But they were all so good. Harrison Whitford played guitar—he’s worked with Phoebe Bridgers. We had two drummers: Adam Chris Guy, who plays with Tegan and Sara, and Dan Bailey from Father John Misty’s band. Just really talented people. It was really special.
Racket: You mentioned therapy earlier. It seems like it’s become more normalized, especially among younger artists. Do you feel like it’s more openly discussed in your circles?
Windser: Yeah. To be open and share how you really feel can be powerful. Musicians deal with rejection constantly and are usually very sensitive — because they have to be. You’re taking something floating in the ether and transmitting it through your heart and soul. Therapy helps with that. Some people exercise or meditate — that’s their therapy. For me, therapy helps me talk about things that are too painful to feel alone. It makes me a better person. I’m an advocate for it.
Racket: Same here. Therapy helped me process some of my own family stuff. It’s nice to have someone trained to ask the questions you’d never think to ask yourself.
Windser: Hell yeah, man.
Racket: With all your touring—are there any cities you have a soft spot for? Or maybe just a restaurant you dream about between shows?
Windser: Asheville, North Carolina. We played the Orange Peel, and across the street is this Japanese izakaya called Ukiah. Incredible oysters, udon, pork skewers. Also, Seattle has this place called The Walrus and the Carpenter — amazing seafood. We try to eat well on tour. No fast food unless it’s an emergency.
Racket: Next time you’re in Oregon — tons of great food here. I’m based in Eugene now, hoping to move back to Bend at the end of summer.
Windser: Oh, cool. I haven’t played Bend, just driven through. But we did a pop-up show last year at Music Millennium in Portland — solo acoustic set. Hope to come back soon. We haven’t played the Northwest nearly as much as I’d like to, but there’s stuff on the horizon.
Racket: Bend’s got one of my favorite venues: the Hayden Homes Amphitheater, right by the river. People anchor their paddleboards and listen from the water.
Windser: That’s awesome.
Racket: Big time. Do you have a pre-show ritual or superstition?
Windser: I like a moment alone to warm up my voice, hug my band, then go on. No seances, no witchcraft—at least none I can talk about in this interview.
Racket: Fair enough. Last question: who’s a surprising artist or song that influenced your work but doesn’t match your genre?
Windser: There’s a song on the album called “Skeletons” that was influenced by Kendrick Lamar’s “Money Trees.” I love that song — the beat, his flow. He samples Beach House, does a reverse sample. It’s so good.
Racket: Yeah, Kendrick’s the GOAT.
Windser: He is. He’s the GOAT.