Category: News

Jesse Wells Talks New Welles Album, ‘Red Trees and White Trashes’

“People pretty up the guitar too much.” Jesse Wells opens up about Welles’ superlative debut album.

“People pretty up the guitar too much,” says singer-songwriter-guitarist Jesse Wells. “I kind of fight when I play, and I want people to hear that struggle of my fingers getting gnawed up on the fretboard. I like to use amp overdrive to get a warm guitar buzz, and sometimes I’ll go straight into the board and crank it. When the guitar sounds big and fuzzy, I know it’s right.”

“Big and fuzzy” is an accurate description of the sound Wells and his band — simply called Welles — make on their superlative debut album, Red Trees and White Trashes. The guitarist, having been raised on a steady diet of early Led Zeppelin and stoner rock, played in a succession of outfits in his hometown of Fayetteville, Arkansas, but it wasn’t until he moved to Nashville that he found a group of players (guitarist Marshall Willard, bassist Davey Nelson and drummer Jordan Rochefort) who shared his gritty sonic vision. Even so, it took some effort. “Nashville is full of great musicians,” he says. “I had to look hard to find guys who wanted to play music that’s a little rough around the edges.”

In Nashville, Wells and his band recorded the bulk of Red Trees and White Trashes with producers Beau Boggs and Bobby Emmett, but he also worked with multiple Grammy award winner Dave Cobb on three tracks. One highlight of their creative collaboration is the heartbreaking grunge-rock anthem, “Seventeen.”

“Dave and I hit it off immediately,” Wells says. “He got the Nirvana and Melvins vibe I was going for, but we also bonded over the White Album and [John Lennon’s] Plastic Ono Band record. We were totally in sync the whole time.”

Wells admits he gets a little out-there and psychedelic when playing leads, and he credits Cobb with never putting the brakes on him. “Dave just let me roam free, which was cool,” he says. “I would love to be a better improviser, so that’s a goal of mine. Every time I pick up the guitar is another chance to play something awesome. Whether or not it makes sense is another matter altogether.”

What Fans of Welles Should Know: ‘You Don’t Have To Worry’

It wasn’t a rap at first,” he joked. “When I wrote it, it was about twenty clicks slower, so all those words were just real smooth and easygoing, you know?” Then something special happened; Jesse Wells started singing. It’s rare that a phone interview turns into a private concert, but there they were, the opening words to “Life Like Mine” – “I caught a sermon on the mount of Fairy Hill, in a Mercury or a Lincoln, I can’t see it” – warmly, at half the tempo, resonating even on our fuzzy connection between Nashville and NYC. The demonstration came unexpectedly while Wells was explaining the story behind the lyrics; the very first thing we discussed, since the verses and stories that make up Welles’ pure-rock debut album, Red Trees and White Trashes, are so compelling and primed for dissection.

Given the intensity of Welles’ music, it’s no surprise that their eponymous (minus an e) frontman is a thoughtful and no-nonsense storyteller. Wells’ description of the song’s meaning went from funny retelling to deep self-analysis at an amazing pace. “There is actually a location in Fayetteville, Arkansas called Fairy Hill. I got into a fight with a very good friend of mine on Fairy Hill. It was about 2am and he came to pick me up from my band’s house. We had just played a show that evening, so adrenaline was still high, and we were out having fun, but I just kept thinking, ‘Man, he piled me into a Mercury, or a Lincoln, I can’t see it!’ I remember just sitting in a big bench seat and then, ‘I caught a sermon’: That’s me trying to remember everything I heard from my buddy that evening. ‘I was heaving on a handful of bitter pills’: that’s just the truth, and that’s just kind of where I was when I was 19 or 20. I was just incredibly angry, and heaving on it. I would not accept truth, and that life isn’t fair, and things like that. I still don’t. Like, I threw a huge fit at Walmart earlier today,” Wells recalled with a laugh, “‘cause it was taking too long. When things aren’t fair and when justice isn’t happening, it’s always torn me down, since I was a little kid. Sometimes, just the little lessons, I learned the hard way – the really hard way. Just wait in line, and stuff like that. Wait your turn. Bitter pills; life isn’t fair. So, I’ve been heaving on those my whole life.” Somehow, we’d skipped all the basics and gone straight into his soul, as was often the experience when speaking with Jesse Wells.

Just like when we first interviewed Welles at Governors Ball last summer – back when the band was only four weeks old – his answers were incisive and extremely down-to-earth. And while some songwriters are more reticent about the origins of their lyrics, Wells was more than comfortable quantifying how much of his music is based upon his real life. “I would say…most of it,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “Most of it is just, straight up, my experiences. If we really think about it,” he said, listing off examples. “‘Codeine’ – definitely autobiographical. ‘Life Like Mine’ – definitely autobiographical. ‘Are You Feeling Like Me’ – oh for sure. ‘Hold Me Like I’m Leaving’ too.” Even as the lyrics of Red Trees and White Trashes shed so much light on his background, there are still small misconceptions about him perpetuated by the media – some that he’s found somewhat mystifying, including the backstory of him writing music in an art commune. “Commune’s a bit of a strong word, but people have adopted that and are using it quite a lot,” Wells said bemusedly. “Honestly, it was a derelict apartment complex. If we just look at it objectively, it was just a real run-down, torn-up apartment complex that we all lived in. And that’s what I always thought of it as. I never thought of it as a freaking art compound. That’s what people assume; they love it! But me and my friends are just laughing about it. It wasn’t like some fucking warehouse or anything. We had an entire apartment building to ourselves. And there were only two rooms that had been renovated and were considered actually livable. Those were the two rooms we paid for, but we had access to the entire building. So yeah, we had some squatters. We set up art galleries and had some rock and roll shows and stuff like that. But ‘compound’ makes it sound like there’s some literature that goes with that…you know?” Wells laughed. “Like, I was a shaman who was only sexually active on Wednesdays, and I could write rock and roll tunes; that was my job,” he joked. “Yeah seriously, we all had fucking jobs, we were all broke as hell, and we were just trying to make stuff work. We were just living amongst one another and together, which is just called ‘community.’”

Having fallen in love with people like David Bowie, Marc Bolan, John Lennon, Lou Reed, and Bob Dylan at a young age, Wells acknowledged how growing up isolated from a real music scene made him study the craft more fervently. “You had to dig harder, and you appreciated what you dug up a lot more. So, maybe you only had one Velvet Underground album and it didn’t even have the tunes you knew… but you knew you really liked ‘em, you’d heard ‘em somewhere… so you rent it from the library, you take it home, and you put it on a cassette tape. And that is your Velvet Underground album. Guaranteed, no one else in the fucking school has one, you know?” He had the tone of an archaeologist describing a treasured artifact. “And the internet was kind of fresh in Ozark,” Wells laughed. “Especially for me – I didn’t grow up wealthy at all. To call it middle class might make some middle class people call themselves high class. We got the internet in like 2011.” Conversely, later on – as tactfully as possible – he also noted some music that doesn’t agree with him. “The synthetic stuff; even the production of 80s music has always kind of wound me up and ground me out,” he revealed. “I can’t listen to it. Or, I don’t like to. But there’s a lot of rap and hip-hop that I’ve found later on in my life.”

Wells’ strong affinity for unprocessed rock surely played a role in the raw studio sound he achieved on Red Trees and White Trashes – all the more impressive, given the background he shared about the record. “When we made the album, I had not met any of those fellas yet. So I hadn’t met anybody in the band at that point. All I had was the demos that were recorded up there at the mountain. And they hired studio musicians that I’d never met before. But it was just like, ‘Hey. Jesse. These guys are gonna be the best of the best, so don’t you worry,’” he remembered happily. “I really wasn’t incredibly involved in that part. And listen, when I met [producer] Dave Cobb, I went home and wrote a country album! And then I came back, and they were like ‘No no no no no, you can just do rock and roll, like you were doing,’ and I was like ‘Ohh okay.’” Wells laughed. “I’m about the music. I saw an opportunity and I was gonna seize it. Luckily, I was able to be myself. But I would have found myself, you know? I’m confident that I can find myself in whatever I gotta do,” he said. “But I went in with session musicians – you know, they only need to listen to the demo once. These are incredible players, and they have a very sharp wit. I just went in and played guitar and those guys played on my tracks.” As expected, he would have preferred it if his current lineup had played on the first album, but that’s not how the timeline worked out. “That would be ideal for most people. But I didn’t meet Davey [Nelson] or Marshall [Willard] or Jordan [Rochefort, his live band] until I went ahead and moved up to Nashville a couple months later, and started living here and hanging out,” Jesse explained, mentioning the guys we’d first met and witnessed again earlier this summer in Jersey City. “The Weeks are a band here in Nashville, and I sat on their couch for about a year, until people started talking to me. After we got on Carson Daly… yeah, after we got on the television show, people would be like ‘Hey! What’s up Jess?’” Wells recalled. “They’re the best of the best,” he said of his bandmates. “I mean, if you want the best, you come to Nashville – if you want players, you know. People who actually walk the road.”

Thanks to songs like “Seventeen” (from which the name, Red Trees and White Trashes, was derived), it’s a bit easier to picture the world of “Ar-kansas,” as Wells sings with affection, “Where there’s beer and molasses // We’ll let the times fly on past us // The whole world, kiss our asses // through red trees and white trashes.” He explained why the album’s title had been sourced from this particular line when we spoke. “If you were to walk with me through my life, it would be through the red trees that I just grew up all around, and white trash – which I feel like I belong to,” said the Ozark, Arkansas native. “I lived in a town that many people in the country would drive through and go, ‘Wow, it’s a cute little town. A lot of white trash.’ And then they’d just keep driving. There are entire states that are like that. So I’m self-aware of that perception. And I just felt like this entire album, with all the words I put in, was about all the wild shit I did back in Arkansas. If you’re going to be listening to it, you’re going to be stepping through my life…so why not name it after the place you’re stepping into? It’s a journey; you’re listening through red trees and white trashes. Because that’s me; I’m red trees and white trashes.”

Wells painted other scenes of his hometown – and even his childhood – as he answered the ol’ P&W whiskey question. “When I drink whiskey…” he said in smiling tone, “I drink Kentucky Deluxe. It is just a blended, bottom-shelf bourbon. I drink it hot and by the pint. But I haven’t done that since college; I can’t even touch that anymore. I went through a liquor store drive-thru and asked them if I could have some Kentucky Deluxe, and they told me no. And I think that’s ‘pry the last evening I had any. But that was like…senior year,” he realized, amused. “They should have called the cops on my ass.” A quick digression about the novelty of drive-thru liquor stores suddenly had Jesse laughing more and reminiscing far back. “I have memories sitting in the bucket seat next to my dad with a Pepsi between my knees, and we would go through the liquor store drive-thru, and he would order a twelver of Busch Light, and put it in the passenger seat. And he’d give me a Pepsi, ‘cause it was kind of about the same color as a Busch Light can. And we’d both crack ‘em open and drive around. I had no idea what was going on, you know? ‘Cause you wanna be just like your dad when you’re a kid,” he said nostalgically. “But yeah, it’s insane. There’s drive-thru liquor stores here [in Nashville] too. I could ride my bicycle to one right now.”

“I don’t really have any grand statements,” he said as we wrapped up our long call. “I would just beg people to keep their eyes peeled, because I’m going to be here, and I’m just crazy about this. We’re doing this for folks, you know? The people who are working like 9-5 who’ve got it all boring. We are the people that fucking said, ‘Fuck it, we’re going for it.’ The kids in rock & roll bands, that’s who we are: the kids who said ‘Fuck it.’ And everyone else wants to do that – they really do. But instead, they just buy a ticket, and they come and watch us do it, and that’s fine. That’s who we’re there for. Get your rocks off, goddamnit,” Wells laughed. “This is what the people that are fans of Welles should know,” he added decisively. “The music’s written. Albums are coming. I’m writing constantly. I’ve been writing constantly since I was 12. I’ve got suitcases and suitcases and suitcases full of notebooks and computer hard drives full of stuff I can’t even access anymore because it’s too old, you know? I’ve got tunes on floppy drives and stuff,” he laughed, having dipped into a whisper that sounded more humble than secretive. Still addressing his fans, in a genuinely caring tone, he concluded, “I’ve been doing this forever, and this is what I do, so you don’t have to worry. This is not a phase. I’m going to be around as long as I am alive.”

What Fans of Welles Should Know: ‘You Don’t Have To Worry’, By Olivia Isenhart, July 27, 2018
https://www.pancakesandwhiskey.com/2018/07/27/welles-interview/

Wells’ Debut Album ‘Red Trees and White Trashes’ Is A Rock Lover’s Dream

“Dust me off like a jar of fire, declare me as your friend. It’s been done before, and we’re doing it now, and I’m sure it’s not the end.” It’s a small remark in the song, but out of context, it defines Welles’ entire approach to rock and roll – and searing debut record – to a tee. Due for official release tomorrow (June 15), Red Trees and White Trashes is one of the purest and most promising rock albums we’ve encountered in recent years…and best of all, you can tell it was never trying to be. Jesse Wells, the mind behind the music, doesn’t deem himself a visionary or “the new” anything, and shrugs off such superlatives from recent press with disgusted amusement. Against his wishes, though, the intense musicality packed into his 13-track debut might make it difficult to avoid being placed on a pedestal. What we’ve got here is truly a jar of fire. If you dust it off, as he suggests, and peer into the flames, you’ll be amazed at what you find.

There’s something strikingly raw about Red Trees and White Trashes; no part of it even feels planned or constructed. His ruthless guitar work and pulse-resetting progressions are closer in spirit to a howl at the moon than a series of notes and chords. It’s an album whose brutally-honest lyrics sound familiar the first time you hear them, like feelings ripped from your own subconscious. It’s a research-with-no-results kind of album, with material that’s so strong, you assume he must be covering some classic rock song – only to find again and again that it’s his own. It’s an album that makes you race to pre-order the vinyl, realizing it might be difficult to find if you don’t jump on it before the rest of the rock-loving populous does. It’s a fast injection of medicine you didn’t know you needed. It’s daunting to decide which parts to analyze first. It’s not even accurate to describe certain songs as highlights when all of them are so compelling. It’s that good.

When we first interviewed Welles last year, the band was only four weeks old, and their message was impenetrably simple: “We just make rock and roll music.” Having caught up with Jesse again this week (full in-depth interview coming soon to P&W), it’s unsurprising and refreshing that nothing at all has changed – even as the new songs are being excavated and handled like diamonds by critics and fans. Early-released singles like “Life Like Mine,” “Seventeen,” and “Rock N Roll,” as well as “Codeine,” “Hold Me Like I’m Leaving,” “Into Ashes,” and “Are You Feeling Like Me” from last year’s EP, already feel like staples of a proper rock playlist, each dripping with his husky yet tender vocals and velvety, vintage-rock riffs. Album opener “How Sweet It Is to Love” and other fresh cuts “Do You Know How to Fuck,” “Seasons,” “Crush 19,” “Summer” and “9.8” (plus a vital and shreddy “Interlude”) are overwhelmingly good additions, tying all the rest together like tightly-knotted twine. The album’s title, Red Trees and White Trashes, comes from the end of “Seventeen,” but it runs a bit deeper than that, as Jesse explained when we spoke.

“If you were to walk with me through my life, it would be through the red trees that I just grew up all around, and white trash – which I feel like I belong to,” said the Ozark, Arkansas native. “I lived in a town that many people in the country would drive through and go, ‘Wow, it’s a cute little town. A lot of white trash.’ And then they’d just keep driving. There are entire states that are like that. So I’m self-aware of that perception. And I just felt like this entire album, with all the words I put in, was about all the wild shit I did back in Arkansas. If you’re going to be listening to it, you’re going to be stepping through my life…so why not name it after the place you’re stepping into? It’s a journey; you’re listening through red trees and white trashes. Because that’s me; I’m red trees and white trashes.”

Wells’ Debut Album ‘Red Trees and White Trashes’ Is A Rock Lover’s Dream, By Olivia Isenhart, June 14, 2018
https://www.pancakesandwhiskey.com/2018/06/14/welles-debut-album/

On His Debut Album, Welles Pretties Up Dirty Rock And Roll

First rule of rock and roll: Make sure the music knows how much you love it. The music is something people make, of course, but it can feel like its own life form when you put your fingers on a guitar or some drums and play it, or feel it run through you as you’re pushed up against the stage by a sweaty crowd, or sink deep into it huddled in your room with your giant headphones affixed to your noggin. So, since the beginning, rockers have praised, named, and given thanks to rock and roll in song. Chuck Berry did it. So did Lou Reed and Joan Jett and Led Zeppelin and David Bowie. Laying his claim, Jesse Wells does it too, in one of the fuzz-fed brush fires he and his band – simply called Welles – light on this debut album.

“Rock and roll is a gas,” Wells sings in a chewy tenor that’s part Beatle, part burnout. “Rock and roll slithers past. Rock and roll knows your heart, it will tear you apart. Rock and roll is a blast.” Those sample lines show how this young devotee has absorbed the basic language of his beloved tradition and is now devoted to refreshing it. The sound of Red Trees and White Trashes is confrontational and fun, marked by psychedelia and grunge (in 2015, Wells released a cover of Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box”) but with a little bit of Southern pastoralism in the mix. Wells grew up in Arkansas and, until recently, lived in an art commune in the gorgeous mountain lands around Fayetteville. In his gently drifting power ballad “Seventeen” – which may be a bit of a tribute to Big Star’s great song about the same kind of angst, “Thirteen” – Wells tells his messed-up love he’d like to bring them to “Ar-Kansas, where there’s beer and molasses” and a certain immunity to time and those titular “red trees and white trashes” dot the psychedelic landscape. The feel of this album recalls other 21st-century Southern rock survivalists like Cage the Elephant and All Them Witches – artists who’ve found inspiration in the region’s woodsy cover and nighttime heat, and are keeping feedback-fed rock alive by not worrying about anybody else’s idea of what’s cool.

At only 23, Wells is already writing hooks that any of his heroes would envy. In Nashville he’s found bandmates who can take his vision past what he could do in Fayetteville’s coffee houses and backyards. The sound on this album is huge, putting Welles in the same league as the smart bands reviving rock’s mainstream right now, like Royal Blood and Greta Van Fleet. Produced by Beau Boggs (who’s known for his work with Nashville mavericks from Jamey Johnson to Natalie Prass) and Bobby Emmett, with three tracks helmed by Dave Cobb (reminding the world here that he started his ascent as a producer in a rock band of his own), Red Trees and White Trashes has the heft and complexity to likely earn a few Grammy nominations; but it’s also obvious that Wells will always be comfortable in some dirty rock and roll kitchen where, as he says in one song, “everyone’s kinda ugly in that way that looks pretty,” girls in blue bobs are smoking something illegal, and somebody’s turned the amp up to 10 on the other side of the screen door. “It’s just summer again,” Wells cries as the bass line creeps like a snake in the grass. “Giving it away to the night life trend all again.” Giving it away to the thing that gives it all to you: rock and roll.

On His Debut Album, Welles Pretties Up Dirty Rock And Roll, By Ann Powers, June 7, 2018
https://www.npr.org/2018/06/07/615551402/first-listen-welles-red-trees-and-white-trashes

Meet Welles, The Band That Tells It Like It Is

Why wouldn’t they?

The Welles era is only just beginning. Welles’ just-dropped, five-song EP sounds like the kind of stuff a kid raised solely on psychedelic rock would make after dipping their feet in experimental college radio. Codeine is rife with dreams, trips, and sober reflections all told through music you just don’t hear anymore. There’s an authenticity to frontman Jeh-sea singing, “Lost myself, found myself, killed myself / And brought myself to life” on the EP’s title track. It’s neither emo nor theatrical—just very matter-of-fact rock that fits nicely alongside the early works of Bob Dylan and The Flaming Lips. We’ve got a modern classic on our hands, friends. Just you wait.

Learn more about Welles in our interview with Jeh-sea, below.

What are you most proud of so far in terms of your career?

The album itself and making music that resembles all the music that we love, which is The Beatles, Sabbath, Zeppelin, T. Rex; good pop-rock music [is] an art that’s not quite as prevalent as it used to be. It’s still there, and it’s still very good, but I don’t think it’s really in the mainstream at the moment.

What famous person dead or living do most wish you could have as a roommate?

I’m sure we would just fight like dogs, anyone that I would want to, but I reckon John Lennon during the White Album era would be a good roommate, pretty dysfunctional and strung out.

What is your favorite driving music?

Depends on the mood. I like Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes.” That’s a really good one. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard will take you on a trip, whether you’re going on one or not.

Whose career would you most like to emulate?

Beck’s. It’s just great. It’s great music, and it keeps getting put out in a new way. There are some different things I’d like to do, definitely. Maybe I don’t need to reinvent myself as drastically as he has. I think that guy’s had an incredible career, and he’s remained so independent through all of it. Or, at least, it appears that way.

What’s your favorite place to write music?

My bedroom. It’s where I write all of it. I don’t have the luxury of having a secret place.

Describe your aesthetic in three words.

Winter, liquor, dream.

If you had to wear one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be, and why?

A good pair of dungarees. Those’ll probably last you a lifetime if you don’t scoot around on your ass to walk.

Do you have any pre-show superstitions?

No, no, nothing. I don’t really participate in any kind of spiritual realm. I’m very material, you know? A kind of Hobbesian, Randian existence where the only real thing is that which is in front of me. No black cat is gonna put me on edge, you know? There’s other shit going on.

If you had to live in a past time, what do you think would be the most fun era and why?

I’d want to live in the freest era. So where’s the most freedom? Probably in the New World and in the Americas and the mid-19th century where you had the Wild West and stuff like that. If you could get way out West, maybe out in Albuquerque or somewhere out in New Mexico and build your own house and have all your own food and that sort of thing. Actually, you can’t really find that while in New Mexico; so maybe Arkansas. I’d like to be able to subside off myself.

What activities do you most enjoy doing alone?

I love to listen to a good album.

What’s the last good album you listened to alone?

Well, I was just listening to the new King Giz stuff and their new video that just came out. I think it’s great. I like going through Flightless Records’ roster and listening to the Murlocs, and ORB, and King Giz, and Babe Rainbow, and Pipe-eye. All the good stuff that’s coming out their way. It may just be that it’s the only source I found. I’m sure there are other sources of wonderful music, but they really… they compartmentalize and do a very good job of distributing it to me via YouTube. That’s how I consume it.

Are you on Spotify or any of those?

No, I don’t do Spotify or any other players. YouTube is how I’ve always done it. Whatever algorithm they have in there, I don’t think is really swayed by a number of plays. I think it really has to do with the subject matter, so it takes me to places that are very tiny and that no one else has listened to. Like, 470 people have liked this video or have even viewed it, and I’m sitting there enjoying the shit out of it. It bugs me anytime I’m on social media or listening to music when I get suggested something. I think a lot of people feel the same way. How could you possibly know my taste, you know? I like to find things on my own; at least YouTube lets me fake-find shit on my own.

When are you most relaxed?

Recording in the studio. That’s when it’s best.

What kind of person were you in high school?

Confused. You’re over in Arkansas, and you’re playing sports, playing football, baseball, track, the whole run of it. Lifting weights and running around with these meatheads, and you’re one of them. You really are. But at the same time, you’re thinking about being wintery and yellow and liquor-y, and you’ve got this kind of Lennon spook on your ass, and you want to be the horror and the terror, but at the same time, you are a high school boy. I had to get away from it in order to kind of find what I wanted to be.

Can you tell me a quality about yourself that you are genuinely proud of?

I’m proud of being creative. What I really love and what really gets me off is being handed just a shit show, a basket case, and then making something out of it. If it’s a shitty guitar off Craigslist and making it your own, or if these are the only chords I know, and I’m going to make a song with them—that’s where it’s at. If all I have is this small number of gear, we’re going to figure out a way to record. That’s where I thrive. That’s what I enjoy. It’s not always good. It’s not always easy to listen to or anything like that, but that’s really what gets me off.

What’s your next project?

I don’t know. I can’t quite tell if I’ve already got the next album written or if I need to write it. There are so many songs. We could just choose from those older ones and go with those and make the next album, or I could write all new shit, and we could do that. Or a combination? The EP’s a combination. It takes so long to release music because there’s a marketing aspect of building your fans and that sort of thing. If it were me, I’d be like, “Oh, I wrote this song today,” and then the next day, it’s, “Oh, I wrote another song.” You don’t enjoy albums, you enjoy eras of people and their creativity. I can think of Beatles albums versus Beatles eras, and it’s like, I love Lennon, and Revolver, Magical Mystery Tour, and Sgt. Pepper. Well, what do you love? Do you love those three albums, or do you love that era of that person’s music? Had they been releasing it day after day, you would’ve heard some of the best music they made, to you.

If there was one phrase that best sums up your approach to life, what might it be?

Finish it. See it to its end. It’s very important to finish, even if you only ever start one thing.

Meet Welles, The Band That Tells It Like It Is, By Hayden Manders June 7, 2017