Old School Cool
How and why artists move things forward by going backwards
Looking through the past couple of months of work, I realized that I haven’t had a deep dive into the indie side of country in a while. This was not intentional. My general listening habits have not changed all that much. I have a number of rough drafts that are being worked on and by luck of the draw, none of the ones I managed to finish featured indie artists. Until now….
Hope you enjoy!
Joe
About a month ago I discovered the record Letters From The Road by Todd Day Wait.
That may not be a name many are familiar with, but his latest album showcases what might be the finest example of modern stone-cold classic country available today. At the very least, among artists who have released albums this year. His work has been featured on YouTube channels such as Western AF, which is a fantastic resource, especially if you enjoy acoustic renditions of classic sounding country music. The story of YouTube channels role in facilitating the growth of traditional country music in the past decade probably is worth the full length essay treatment. Suffice it to say, I’ve discovered many talented acts from channels like Western AF.
As I was listening to the record, several thoughts came to mind that I jotted down. Something substantive resulted, and I decided to expand this into a more comprehensive think piece.
Todd Day Wait is what I would call a neo-vintage artist. This is a distinction I have developed, although the concept behind it is by no means original. Succinctly, in the burgeoning traditional revival we've seen growing steadily over the last 5-10 years, there are two distinct styles.
One is neo-traditional, which follows in the footsteps of artists from the new traditional movement of the late 1980s and early 1990s. Like those artists (Strait, Travis, Jackson etc…), these musicians take the best of modern technology and modernist themes and speak to people using classic country arrangements. The sounds are still updated, even though they are heavily inspired by the past. This is a conservative, albeit still progressive style. Slow to change, but change it still does. Modern examples include artists like Aaron Watson, Luke Combs and (up until very recently) Jon Pardi, all of whom blend classic country structures with contemporary production values and themes.
Neo-vintage, by contrast, doesn't aim to update anything from its source material. Instead, it eschews the popular progressive impulse explicit in nearly all of the music scene and focuses its artistic aims at replicating what existed entirely. Artists like Joshua Hedley record with period equipment, replicating his preferred retro sound precisely. Colter Wall similarly maintains the old-school vocal mixing style that defined the cowboy music genre he is so taken with.
Both of these subgenres often get lumped together, even though there are fundamentally different impulses at their core. Todd Day Wait, the subject of today's conversation, is firmly in the neo-vintage category. We will be discussing some of the unique quirks and features of this movement.
What makes Day Wait's music so interesting is the same classic reproduction style we've defined at the core of neo-vintage. Fidelity is a huge part of this conversation. Anyone who has listened to music spanning generations knows that records from the '60s and '70s, while still sounding good, lack a certain depth and thump. Compare that to anything released after the mid-to-late 1990s, which possesses a notable fullness. The reason for this difference is primarily technological. Most recording studios used analog systems until the late 1990s. Hip-hop was the first genre to embrace digital tools, unsurprising given its reliance on thick beats and sampled music as critical components of the mix. Digital solutions created significantly easier workflows, and in a young, emerging genre, there was little institutional inertia to hold such innovation back. Eventually, these changes spread throughout the industry, resulting in a notable transformation. Music from the late '90s onward provides a richer dynamic range experience than music from earlier generations.
The further back you go, the more stark the changes are. Back in the day, access to high quality recording equipment was a real differentiator between the big labels and the smaller acts. George Jones is a great example of this phenomenon. He started out his career in Texas, on a smaller regional label called Starday records. Those records sound fine, but when he shifted to Nashville there was an immediate jump in fidelity and sonic quality. Similarly, Patsy Cline's recordings with the Nashville A-Team at Bradley's Barn in the early 1960s showcased the advances in multi-track recording, but the overall recording is still compressed by the analog storage limitations of the times.
This is not the case anymore. Music, as is the case with every sort of technology, has advanced all throughout the decades. Importantly, it has democratized. No longer are the modern clean sounding records only available to those with capital to spend chasing that perfection. Nowadays, anyone with a laptop and a mic can do a solid job.
Therefore, if ease of access and capability are not causing the sonic changes between artists like Day Wait and more mainstream acts, we must assume this limited production is an intentional choice. Otherwise, there's no real reason why they wouldn't be able to create a modern sound. And as a quick gander about the independent scene would tell you, this is obviously the case. The neo-vintage movement nowadays is an intentionally reproduction-focused movement. Choosing to mimic older styles of production and their limited fidelity is part of this approach.
Many people instinctively ask when hearing these records, "Why would anyone want to listen to this kind of stuff? Just go listen to the older material!"
There are many answers to this question. Regardless of the specific approach you choose to take, the clear underlying point is that there was something about those older styles that spoke to audiences. Even though trends have changed, those older styles should still have meaning to people, same as they once did. If it worked way back when, no reason it should have lost effectiveness.
Once we note that many may still desire the particular strand of emotive conveyance that older country provided, it becomes quite understandable to want to be part of a living scene. You can't go to a Merle Haggard concert anymore, but show up to a honky-tonk joint in Austin and you just might find some guy or girl right about your age performing on stage who hits that same emotional frequency.
Additionally, the smallest of the modern updates allowed in these styles create audience appeal. For example, if you are a female listener wishing to hear a modern representation of herself in a classic styled song, the alive vibrancy of Brennan Leigh or the current perspective of Summer Dean is appealing in a way that a dead artist, no matter how magical her voice, can no longer provide. The stories told are filtered through the traditional styles, but similar to how the meaning behind mythical tales updates throughout the generations, while the story details stay the same, a neo-vintage styled artist in the modern age gives frameworks of new meaning within the accurate-to-the-retro-packaging style.
And yes, in this vein, very often these artists choose to use recording technologies that are out of date. The lack of dynamic range in these older styles results in a quirk where drums sound thin with the bass of the kick drums sounding rather tinny. The overall arrangement misses the full throated richness and impact we get with modern recording technologies. The analog equipment naturally compresses high and low frequencies, creating the characteristic boxy sound that neo-vintage artists now deliberately recreate. These technical limitations have long been fixed. Now that we understand the aims of the neo-vintage artist, we can properly suggest multiple angles with which to interpret these unusual production choices.
From the artist's standpoint, just because modern studio technology offers expanded possibilities doesn't mean these options are necessarily helpful. Yes, contemporary production allows for significant reverb, extended power chords, and atmospheric elements enabled by digital sounds. However, certain genres like classic country are fundamentally straightforward. In order to enable this traditional messaging to ring true, you might seek to avoid even the possibility of modern production techniques. When you get into the studio, the process is streamlined and simple. The possibility of alternative approaches does not exist when you have a microphone in front of you and a live recording on tape running. This constraint keeps you focused.
This concept of creative constraint is well-established in artistic circles. By intentionally limiting your tools, you can gain clarity and focus. When artists like Todd Day Wait choose retro recording methods, they're not pursuing "bad production". Instead, they're embracing a specific set of creative constraints that de-emphasize distractive possibility and recenter on the desired, straightforwardly communicative results.
To expand on this point, we need to recognize an essential truth about the nature of technology. Technology shapes the creative system surrounding it. Think about when email was introduced to the business world—the timeline and expectations surrounding inter-office communications radically shifted in response. A week of silence after reaching out to a company changed from just the standard time it took a letter to arrive to a massive delay. Recording technology is no different. The artistic possibilities are determined by the technology and the resulting "rules" of the equipment.
One specific example is how instruments like steel guitar were featured in period recordings. Because most instruments were recorded live in the studio together, engineers had limited ability to adjust the quieter, more delicate steel guitar sound relative to louder instruments like drums during the mixing process. This technical limitation led producers to feature steel guitars more prominently in solo passages and melodic harmonies that occupied distinct frequency ranges within the overall soundscape. These production necessities created the distinctive arrangements that defined the era's characteristic sound, with the steel guitar's placement being as much about technical constraints as artistic choice.
In a replicative movement, you want to occupy similar ground to the original style not just physically, but also mentally. Taking away modern possibilities in the studio allows that mindset to happen. That alone is reason to make the choices artists like Todd Day Wait made on Letters From The Road.
But there's another side to this coin: the listener's experience. When a modern studio is used (even when aiming for a period accurate mid-range forward sound) the recordings remain recognizably contemporary to the listener's ear because they use the same equipment as today's pop hits. The guitar plucks will have a visceral sense of attack, same as when a pop producer shoves a mic right up to the guitar to capture every rasp of the fingers on the strings. Chet Atkins' recording didn't have that same sense. This sonic similarity creates cognitive dissonance between the aimed for vintage authenticity and the modern shell surrounding it.
Therefore neo-vintage artists will try to obtain older equipment (or at least be meticulous to recreate that older equipment's limitations). This approach can erase any dissonance and enable a cohesive listener experience.
What might be considered "flaws" in the retro approach—say, the limited dynamic range or that characteristic tinny kick drum that I have been ragging on this entire piece—ultimately become essential parts of crafting this authentic framework.
These twin perspectives help explain why these production choices feel necessary rather than optional. The artist and audience don't just want the songs to sound like old country; they want the entire experience to cohere with their expectations of what classic country should be. That goal begins with the choice of equipment within the studio and works its way throughout every step of crafting a song.
Neo vintage country is not simply regular country music with an Instagram filter placed on top of it. While neo-vintage doesn't pursue technological advancement or genre evolution, it is nonetheless a legitimate art form that requires careful recreation and a deep understanding of historical styles.
There's a whole group of dedicated musicians out there doing exactly that. Oftentimes their mission will be maligned or discredited. Hopefully this sheds some light on the intense artistic focus that actually goes into making these records happen.
As for Todd Day Wait’s Letters From The Road, it's a lovely record and the production work is impeccably vintage sounding in a way that matches his voice and vibe. The stark and straightforward sadness of It Hits Me Hard Sometimes is my personal favorite. The record both inspired this whole piece as well as resonated throughout multiple listens. I highly recommend it.
Thanks for reading!
If you want to reach out with feedback, please leave a comment or reach out via email to today i heard blog at gmail dot com.
Until next time,
Joe