By Alexander Rivero, Staff Writer

At a certain point in his earliest years of learning to play guitar, back before he had ever considered jotting down a single lyric, a friend approached Christopher Scott Welch and suggested he try writing something original to play. Up until then, he had played songs on guitar in private, for fun, mostly classics and some popular titles of the day. He was self-taught, a perfectionist to the core, and hungry to expand. 

“I look back now and am very grateful for that suggestion,” says Welch, “because it unleashed a stream of creativity within me from then on that has never quite ceased.”

Welch is, to say the least, a humble and thoughtful man, equipped with all the standard bearings of a true artist. He is quick to deflect praise and push it towards his musical collaborators. Chief amongst his noble characteristics is the fact that he is a superb listener, a natural outgrowth of his relentless curiosity for all things. At times during our conversation, it may have been unclear to a casual passerby who was interviewing who. He meets every question one throws at him with two of his own, and whatever answers come out then lead, like a river’s tributaries, into ever expanding and interconnected bodies of thought ranging from literature to film, ethics to poetry—and of course music and writing. 

“My goal in all that I do with my music,” he says, “is to write songs that endure.” By this point in the conversation, we had been discussing the modern state of glitz entertainment, and singers that have struck it rich in the big markets by embracing personalities and musical or fashion styles that are not compatible with who they really are. 

“My friend Dan Thomas, who cowrites and arranges many of my songs, says that it’s easy to look around at performers who are succeeding financially, that it’s easy to admire that in the short term. That it almost speaks for itself when you see it. But the truth is that we’re all going to die one day, and it’d be such a shame to leave nothing but nonsense behind, to live fraudulently in exchange for payment. I don’t think it serves anybody, not now, not later.”

“I mean, how many performers that have reduced themselves to only chasing the dollar have we seen lose their way? From botoxing to plastic surgery to going to terrible lengths to secure a specific look for as long a time as possible.” Welch argues that there is a reason these stories that you hear from time to time on the burdens of fame are so captivating—it’s because they’re horrifying. 

“These artists that sell out so completely,” Welch says, “end up becoming disconnected from their inner child, which is what being an artist really boils down to fundamentally.” 

Welch reaffirms the belief that all art, whether writing a suspense novel or a child’s lullaby, is play. The artist is perpetually at play with the very ideas that end up resurfacing as abstractions via his artistic mediums, whether they be song, painting, prose, poetry, or film. To internalize the definition of art in this way, which Welch does to his very core, is to position oneself against even the slightest artistic concessions in exchange for the rewards that usually accompany such concessions. All in all, art to him is a sacred vehicle to express the inexpressible.

He describes his song “Please Don’t”, for example, as a kind of in-between stage when someone wants to come back to a relationship that has ended for another person. 

“I lived this experience, and I thought the value in communicating this is that people have to protect their marshmallows—that soft-spot in their psyches—so that they’re not so hurt.”

In music Welch has found the ability to provide self-therapy, first by abstracting those emotions into poetry and song, and then by using his music to connect with people who may be going through circumstances similar to the ones he describes in the lyrics. During our interview, he repeats the idea for emphasis that our main goal as human beings should be to maximize our potentials while finding and nurturing the potentials of those we come across in this life. It is the reason why he gets so much inspiration from lullabies for his own music. 

He says, “I love lullabies because they’re comforting, and the act of comforting someone is the height of compassion. You listen to these songs and you wonder how many times parents have used them to try and comfort their kids.”

As someone with a passion for words, he figures one of the best things he can do for the world is to offer hope with artistic verbal representations, which is what a song really is. His song “At Home in Your Arms”, for instance, describes the feeling of waking up with someone you love. 

“The closest I’ve come to this is recognizing that people can have a relationship based on sex, which is another different kind of love. But if you can have a relationship with someone that combines love and sexuality, that’s really the mealticket. It’s the joy of being human, lusty, and good, all at once. We’re humans. All of that exists within us. People often go to crass, grotesque songs to experience purely sexual vibes, and they go to church for the asceticism. But hey, babies come from somewhere, and that somewhere is from a relationship of love and mutual respect and care. At least it should be.”

Asking Welch about his favorite songs by other artists is an impossible task (there are just too many), but he rattles a list regardless: “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” by The Hollies; “Lose My Soul” by TobyMac; “You’re Only Human” by Billy Joel; “Cruel to be Kind” by Nick Lowe; “Free Wheelin’” by Jeffrey Steele; “Cats in the Cradle” by Harry Chapin. 

    Before parting ways, Welch leaves with this: “Always remember that it’s better to light a candle than to just curse the darkness. That’s what each of my songs tries to be. A small light.” 

Christopher Scott Welch’s music is available for download from Apple Music, Resso, and other platforms.