Garrison Starr thought she was done playing music. A lifetime of trauma, from her upbringing in a fundamentalist Christian household in Mississippi to more than two decades navigating the music industry, left her spirit broken. With her days as a major-label artist behind her, the Grammy nominated singer, songwriter, and producer was ready to pack it in.
"I felt that what I had to say didn't matter to anybody. That I was a failure," says Starr. "I'm just gonna stop trying. So I did."
"Then I realized I am the artist in the room. I still have a lot to say," Starr recalls. "That was a great gift. I thought that part of my life was over. I thought I was too old, too outspoken, too this, too that. I'm not good enough for this industry."
"I used to be that girl trying so hard to please everybody, to do the right thing in everybody else's eyes," Starr says. "But I can't be that anymore. I know what you want me to be, but I'm not that person. I can't do it. I'm dying inside. I can't hold back."
Starr's singing is both warm and bold, her words softened by the perspective gained from her cohorts without losing the fire of her convictions. She mixes compassion with a sense of purpose that hearkens back to the message-forward spirit of the 1960s folk movement. It's a matter, she says, of being pointed without being angry. "One of the things I've learned is that, if you want to communicate something to somebody, you have to do it in a way that they can hear you," Starr says.
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For more than a decade, Hannah Winkler has lent her voice, musicianship, and quiet fire to other artists’ visions. Now, with the release of her first full-length album, the Brooklyn-based songwriter and multi-instrumentalist steps fully into her own light—crafting a collection of songs that are as emotionally raw as they are sonically lush. After touring and recording with artists like Lorde, Ingrid Michaelson, and A Great Big World, and as a member of beloved bands like Secret Someones, Human Natural, and Weird Years, Winkler’s solo work arrives with hard-won self-possession. These are songs that refuse to shrink, even in their most delicate moments.
Hannah Winkler’s self-titled record is a work for sensitive souls. Produced by longtime collaborators Zach Jones and Oscar Albis Rodriguez, the album is a self-contained world—performed and arranged entirely by the trio. Recorded primarily at Studio G in Brooklyn, the songs blend rock’s urgency, folk’s intimacy, and the melodic pull of classic pop. What emerges is an unflinching, deeply personal portrait of an artist embracing the full spectrum of feeling: navigating shifting friendships, chronic pain, the long echoes of shame, the slow work of healing, and the quiet triumph of finding her voice.
Released in partnership with Grand Phony Music Company, Hannah Winkler aligns her with a growing lineage of artists reimagining modern rock through a personal lens—think Madison Cunningham, Madi Diaz, Waxahatchee, or Soccer Mommy. “There’s freedom in telling the truth,” Winkler seems to say throughout the album—not with bravado, but with clarity and calm force.
