Kiran Elfenbein

On December 6, 2024, a certain Mr. Cameron Winter dropped his first solo album called “Heavy Metal.” Winter is well-recognized for singing with the NYC-based (shoutout!!) band Geese, whose music debuted in 2016.

I first listened to Winter’s music on February 12 of this year when my friend sent me a song called “Nausicaä (Love Will Be Revealed),” off of the album. I listened to it during a walk through campus one late night, enjoying the flavor of the silent cold, when—suddenly—the next, and third, track on “Heavy Metal” began to play. I can somewhat confidently say that I have been listening to this song all-day-every-day since, and I encourage all to join me in this endeavor.

Winter’s beautiful creation, “Love Takes Miles,” begins with random notes on a piano and chopped up bits of noise before jumping into a simple drum beat and other various forms of instrumentation. In stereo sound headphones, one can find Winter’s voice centered while a shaker moves in the listener’s left ear and interesting electronically modified harmonies buzz in their right.

Throughout the form of the song, Cameron Winter toys with the warmth and presence of the rhythm section. In his utilization of piano for bright background melodies while bass and drums hold down muted, dark tones, Winter establishes a catchy, upbeat and surprisingly sentimental ambience. Around timestamp 2:18, strings come in too, pulling on the emotions conveyed by Winter’s words and contributing to the full body of the music.

I sent “Love Takes Miles” to my fantastic friend Evelyn Clemens ’27 on a recent, not-so-chilly night while I was walking to class. She responded excitedly, having expected me to share the song with her. (She had been stalking my Spotify and knows that I have a trend of spamming her with music that I listen to on repeat.)

“This song makes me feel like I’m in love,” I texted her, to which she responded: “Hell yeah.” Then she continued, “I want a warm brownie and ice cream.”

Later that night, I had Evelyn over to listen to the song together and ask her some questions. We sat on the couch in my common room, wearing our headphones. I could only take a few notes on her mannerisms before Evelyn began to laugh and cover her eyes. She bounced her leg a bit, but mostly seemed to be concentrating intently on Winter’s infiltration of her ears.

One of Evelyn’s first comments touched on the evocation of summer, campfires and the uncertainty of having a crush. While listening to the hoarseness of Winter’s voice and stripped-down production, Evelyn instantly found herself reminded of the nostalgia of warmer seasons.

Alternatively, when I asked her what her ideal listening environment would be, she said the following: “As always, headphones on, have a well worn, paced trackway that I can walk back and forth without thinking about it. And then just daydream, crazy style to it. And really feel like I’ve immersed myself in it.”

Evelyn told me that, in highschool, she used to close the door to her room and put music on her headphones to dance alone. “Especially in high school, I’d get so humiliated when my parents would walk in. I wouldn’t notice because I’d have my headphones on full blast, and they would come in. I’d startle so hard, and my face would go bright red.”

Before we wrapped up our session, Evelyn shared a piece of art with me as well. Matthew Olzmann’s poem “Mountain Dew Commercial Disguised as a Love Poem” compiles romantic anecdotes to argue for his marriage to someone. From the texture of his partner’s hands to what they choose or refuse to underline in the passages they read, Olzmann uses basic interactions to emphasize how intense love can make the simplest of moments become.

The last line of the poem reads, “One day five summers ago, / when you couldn’t put gas in your car, when your fridge / was so empty—not even leftovers or condiments— / there was a single twenty-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew, / which you paid for with your last damn dime / because you once overheard me say that I liked it.”

Winter similarly dives into his song with lyrics that touch on what love feels like in a raw, visceral sense. The introductory verse, which also happens to consist of my favorite lines, goes, “Love will call / When you’ve got enough under your arms / Oh oh mah-mah / Love will call / Love will make you fit it all in the car.” What I have personally been so drawn to by this song is Winter’s ability to so purely convey the experience of loving and wanting to love.

Evelyn touched on this sensation as well: “Everyone yearns. So I think by speaking to that in such a way that it’s both poetic and very matter of fact—I mean, it’s just good songwriting. Especially with the lyrics, especially with the instrumentation, it genuinely just really feels like he’s writing to someone to reach out and grab their hand. It’s inviting the listener to join him.”