Chris Compton

The untamed landscapes of the American south provide the lush backdrop for Chris Compton’s off-kilter, often melancholy folk pop. With a voice fed on 70s AM gold and country blues, he sings of abandoned towns and ghosts in the attic, overgrown alleys and relentless floodwaters and mortal sin and human evolution.
Chris was obsessed with words at an early age. At thirteen-years-old he attended the University of South Carolina for one-on-one poetry tutoring and was invited to the house of his favorite poet, James Dickey, to discuss writing and jam a little on guitar. By the time he was in college, he had developed a hunger for collecting uncommon forms of music: scratched vinyl field recordings from the damp library basement, skronk jazz records from the music store clerk’s reserved stockpile or the cassettes of ambient sound he made from a hand-held tape machine. This disparate taste in music and literature led to the playful identity crisis that surfaces in the songs he writes.