Courtney Marie Andrews Shares What Went Into Making ‘Old Flowers’

We’ve all experienced it at least once. Looking at a vase or bouquet of old, dried flowers that were once lovely and knowing they must go. Often, it comes with a moment of sad reflection. The flowers were once – recently! – so tremendously beautiful. Their bloom, perfume. But now, without roots, they’ve gone brittle and died out. For Nashville-based singer-songwriter, Courtney Marie Andrews, this experience is also a metaphor for lost romantic love, which is why the musician titled her forthcoming album, Old Flowers (set for release July 24^th, read our review), and why she sings of them forlornly on the album’s title track.

“Old Flowers is a relationship album,” Andrews says, “a breakup record. It’s telling the tale of a relationship and letting it go – or, trying to, at least. Old flowers signify love, for me. They were once in full bloom, beautiful at one time. Now they’ve wilted. But that doesn’t make the past any less magical. They can still be memories to keep between the pages of your favorite book.”

Andrews, who, with the release of Old Flowers, will boast five excellent LPs to date, writes very intimate songs. Often, they read like diary entries, like teary-eyed conversations between best friends. For some songwriters, this heart-on-the-sleeve motif might over-burden. But, for Andrews, the style is necessary. In fact, she says, it’s her responsibility to bare herself in this way.

“I think that’s our civic duty as writers,” she says, “to offer a place where people can feel understood and heard and seen. If you hide any of it, I think you’re doing the people a disservice.”

As a songwriter, Andrews toes a difficult line. She’s authentic, of the moment and, at the same time, her work is numinous, timeless. Her lyrics are clear and concise and her songwriting structure is traditional, yet sparked with a modern bent. “Carnival Dream,” the album’s fifth track, is part ballad, part dirge. And if sped up, the song would provide the foundation for a potential hit rap song. For Andrews, who focuses as much about the bones of a song as she does the frills, the craft is part of the joy of making music.

“I think at one point, I was aiming for that timeless sound,” she says. “But more and more, I want to be inventive with the music I write.”

Andrews, who was not born into an especially music-focused family, fell in love with the art form in stages. Living in Phoenix, Arizona, she started to sing as a young kid. Later, at 12-years-old, her uncle gave her a nylon string guitar and she started to write songs. In middle school, Andrews played in a feminist, Bikini Kill-inspired punk band. She cared more and more about music and songwriting. She studied records by Joni Mitchell and Aretha Franklin and, later, found herself working fulltime as a backup singer for acts like Jimmy Eat World and Damien Jurado. She gained experience on the road, played in front of thousands. Ultimately, however, she had to follow her heart. So, she quit in order to redouble her efforts as a solo artist.

“That meant that I had to be a bartender to support myself,” Andrews says. “The full-time musician stuff was wonderful but it was so time consuming to be on those big international tours. It was very hard to find time to release my own music.”

At first, Andrews played to rooms of five or 10 people in small bars. It was a “humbling” experience for someone used to playing big, packed rooms. Steadily, though, she gained a following in Phoenix and began to undertake regional tours. In 2016, Andrews released her third album, Honest Life, and her career began to take off. She followed that release with the record, May Your Kindness Remain, in 2018 and her flag was both officially and firmly planted in the country scene and beyond, her fan base solidified and growing.

“I love that music brings us together,” she says, even if we’re apart. I love that music involves endless discovery, that you can never reach the final destination.”

When listening to the 10-track Old Flowers, Andrews’ lilting, expressive voice stands out most of all. But so does her sharp lyricism. For Andrews, precise language and clear communication are paramount to the songwriting process. Growing up, she absorbed in the songs of Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Billie Holiday, wanting to be both a singer and a prose writer. She loved novels, poetry and music. She was drawn to stories about people. So, she started telling them.

“People are endlessly complex,” Andrews says. “I feel a lot of empathy for humanity, in all of its glory and all of its demise.”

If you like her music, consider a pre-save/pre-order of it.