Attention!: This previously postponed show has been rescheduled for August 28th, 2022. All existing tickets will be honored for the rescheduled date or refunds are available at point of purchase only. An email was sent to all current ticket holders on 2/9/22 but refunds will not be accepted any longer. You can reach out to firstname.lastname@example.org with any questions. We appreciate your support for John Moreland, S.G. Goodman and The Armory and we look forward to seeing you soon!
We require proof of full vaccination for Covid-19 OR a negative COVID test dated within 72 hours with an ID (from a health provider only), for entry into this show. Masks are required for entry and for the duration of the event. By purchasing a ticket, you agree to this policy. Check our Venue COVID FAQ’s HERE.
John Moreland with S.G. Goodman
John Moreland doesn’t have the answers, and he’s not sure anyone does. But he’s still curious, basking in the comfort of a question, and along the way, those of us listening feel moved to ask our own. “I don’t ever want to sound like I have answers, because I don’t,” he says. “These songs are all questions. Everything I write is jus t trying to figure stuff out.”
Moreland is discussing his new album Birds in the Ceiling a nine song collection that offers the most comprehensive insight into the thoughts and sounds swimming around in his head to date. A compelling blend of acoustic folk and avant garde pop playfulness, Birds in the Ceiling lives confidently in a space of its own, enriched by tradition but never encumbered by it.
The New Yorker, Pitchfork, Fresh Air, Paste, GQ and others have embraced Moreland’s meditative songs, while performances on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert CBS This Morning NPR Tiny Desk Concert and more have introduced Moreland to millions. And yet, while the Tulsa based Moreland is grateful for the respect and musical conversation he’s now having with people around the world, he is also more focused on the idea of just talking to one person or even himself. “Through the years, I’ve felt like I’m increasingly talking to myself in my songs, more and more,” he says. “Maybe in the past, I wasn’t aware of it, but now, I am. I think doing that has helped me be less hard on myself, which makes you more generous and compassionate in general.”
That helps explain why even if Moreland is reaching out to someone else, there is no judgment. “I’m in the same boat with whoever I’m talking to,” Moreland says.
Moreland’s songs do feel intimate like overheard conversations or solitary meditations. “I want to talk one on one to someone in a song,” he says. “I don’t want to address a group, really, because I think that’s when it’s easy to start pontificating and it gets less honest.”
Letting things just be what they are is a powerful guiding force for Moreland, determining not just how he interacts with others, but how he treats himself. “When you remove boundaries and instead of holding back parts of yourself when you say, ‘I’m going to put all of me into this,’” Moreland says, “You end up making music that nobody else could make.”