Anderson East

Just before midnight, in the new Savannah studio of producer Dave Cobb, Anderson East was wondering if he and his longtime band of bassist Gregg Garner and drummer Darren Dodd were actually capturing anything worthwhile with Cobb, their collaborator and mentor for a decade. Or were they just passing some days with an old friend? But when Cobb pressed play on “Never Meant to Hurt You” late that night, everything changed. The sound coming through the speakers was exactly what Anderson had imagined decades ago, recording on his TASCAM four-track in northern Alabama—real, grand, convincing. As a songwriter, singer, and even producer, this was the music he’d been working toward his entire life, realized here in a moment of unexpected and absolute triumph, through a country-soul classic that felt like an apologetic and warm hug. “Never Meant to Hurt You” stands as the cornerstone of Worthy, Anderson’s debut for Rounder and the most commanding and affecting album he’s ever made. In fact, it is a record he nearly never made at all. Anderson has always treasured the magic of musicians together in a room, conjuring in real time. But he shaped 2021’s Maybe We Never Die largely alone, grappling with cold technology in his little Nashville studio as the world grappled with a pandemic outside. He abhorred the process, even if he liked the results. The subsequent tour yielded a conundrum of its own. As he sang these songs into rooms full of people desperate for live music, he wondered if it all wasn’t a bit artificial. When his major-label deal ended, the relentless cycle of recording and touring had begun to feel hollow against what he truly wanted from music. But in June 2023, he and the band decided to head to Cobb’s place, without agenda. During songwriting sessions with Nashville collaborators, he’d found melodies and lines that resonated deeply with his life—regrets of the past, aspirations of the present and future—and tucked them away for the right moment. There was “Before It Gets Better,” a dashing bit of vulnerability penned with Natalie Hemby, and “Fool Myself,” a surrealist confessional written with his pal Trent Dabbs. Perhaps he and the band could explore these, see if anything caught their ears and imaginations? A lifelong recording nerd who was then finishing his own second home studio, Anderson wanted to see Cobb’s new setup and console, regardless, to geek out on gear together. There were no expectations, no labels, no sense that a record had to be made.

Photo Credit: David McClister/Courtesy of the artist