Morgan Wade has never sounded like anybody else, and for a long time, she thought that meant her songs were just for her. “Honestly, I think that was really good for me,” she says. “It made me think, ‘Alright, well, I’m not going to sing for anybody else––but I’m singing for myself.’” Since then, Wade has figured out that when you grow up in Floyd, Virginia, where bluegrass sustains everyone like the Blue Ridge Mountain air but you hear other sounds like pop and punk in your own head, singing for yourself is the way to become the artist you were always meant to be.
Asked how she feels about the head-turning voice she used to hide, Wade is characteristically honest, self-deprecating, and insightful. “I still go through moments. I was in the studio two weeks ago and I thought, ‘Can I actually sing? Is everybody just mocking me right now?’” She laughs a little and sighs. “I think it just takes a while. After spending all those years feeling like you weren’t good enough, it takes time to rewire your brain––to know hey: You really do have a good voice.”