What if the truest parts of a record live beneath the surface, shaping what you hear without ever announcing themselves? We sit down with Carson McHone to trace the layers behind Pentimento—from Austin’s all-ages venues to a late-summer desert in West Texas and a snow-dusted session by the Bay of Fundy, tracked to 8-track tape. Along the way, Carson shares the moment she said goodbye to restaurant shifts from the White Horse stage, the journal her mother kept during her first year of life, and how words, melody, and memory braid into songs that feel at once intimate and wide open.
We explore creativity as both posture and practice: the ear training of Suzuki lessons, the freedom of a gifted mandolin, and the patience to catch a song’s thread whether it arrives as a fully formed line or a slow, methodical build. The title Pentimento—borrowed from visual art—becomes a map for the album’s design: the underpainting that persists through time, the overlapping faces of influence, the way a project can hold multiple truths at once. Carson talks about recording to tape, embracing texture over tidy edges, and respecting albums as one living piece rather than a handful of singles. Listeners have responded by pressing play again the moment the last track ends, sensing a narrative that’s felt more than spelled out.
If you’re drawn to songwriting craft, analog recording, Austin music history, or the elemental pull of place—desert heat and ocean tide—you’ll find a lot to love here. We hold space for the practical and the poetic: paying the bills, protecting the creative spark, and building work that would be worth making even if no one heard it. Hit play, share it with a friend who still listens front to back, and leave a review to tell us what layer you heard first.