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If you can't decide whether you like rock, country or blues, Sawyer Hill's debut album Everybody's Home, Nobody's Happy should settle your case - because it's all three, often within the same song. Arkansas-born and bred, Hill fearlessly explores the emotional rollercoaster of a breakup, but does it so playfully, it almost contradicts itself. 

Dark themes - death, religion, ghosts, knives, hell - are handled with a loose-limbed swagger that keeps you guessing what he'll do next. It's a living-room-dancing, head-nodding, walk to work bopping, occasionally haunting record, announcing Hill as a characterful voice emerging confidently from the American south. 

Welcoming you into his introductory album - Hill's voice fills the room before the lyrics do. Rich, reverberant, velvety and distinctive, there's an old-soul, timeless quality to it - chest-deep and commanding. Knowing Hill grew up in a strict Pentecostal household gives real weight to this opening entrance. "In search of salvation I stay up all night / John was a preacher before he lost his mind, traded the book for the bottle, holy water for wine / I feel like him sometimes, too scared to open up my eyes." Raw, vulnerable, and theologically heavy. "God is real, he's just not here in me / Guess I'm going to hell." You feel the weight of it - the depth of emotion, how difficult it might’ve been to say it out loud. And then a choir chimes in alongside the strings, filling the space with some lightness. A bold opener, setting an emotional stake for what follows. 

Where "Going To Hell" sits in religious reflection, "Jimmy's Gone Numb" sounds like freedom - stompy, grungy, groovy, and rightfully one of Hill's pre-release singles. The hefty drum pattern and gangly, elastic guitar riffs anchor a melody that somehow sits between a hymn and a honky-tonk. Hill's voice here is confident and cruisy - the showman aesthetic is switched on and it's a standout. 

Hill's baritone feels full on "Tyin' The Noose". It showcases his gift for finding dark, morbid territory and somehow making it feel fun. "I ain't alright, it's not fine but it could be worse / I don't have time to sit and cry waiting for the hearse / My head's a wreck, heart been bruised, kidney screaming from all the booze / Ain't dead yet, just tie the noose." It's sinister but he plays an entertaining character that captivates. 

"Bad Lovers" is the record's focus track, and perhaps its finest moment. The track has a bluesy strut - dusty and warm, scratchy and soulful - that recalls the ambling feel of Roger Miller’s 1973, "Whistle-Stop”, from Robin Hood. The guitar riffs are crunchy, paired perfectly with Hill's vocals, he takes the unguarded and tongue-in-cheek storytelling of the album’s previous tracks but instead of delving into death or religion he’s unpacking a breakup. Once again, his wit shines through - "Good riddance to bad lovers, God forbid there's many others / I've had my share, it ain't worth a single tear." The music video - colorful, chaotic, filled with all sorts of wonderful people - personifying how cool Sawyer Hill really is.

A new chapter begins in "Tongue's A Knife", the guitar follows from "Bad Lovers" but the mood shifts again - the call-and-response echo between Hill and the chorus adds a layer of texture the album hasn't shown yet. "When you said I want you, I never bled so much / And when you said I love you, that was the deepest cut / Then you kissed my neck but your tongue's a knife." It's pretty grim to imagine, best not to think about it too literally - but it's another example of Hill finding something almost comical in the deeply uncomfortable.

A breath of fresh air, "Alibi" leans into an alt-indie pop summer energy that sits in interesting contrast against Hill's deep southern baritone - a flavor profile he hasn’t offered yet, and it’s welcome. A perfect gig-bouncer. "You love me just when you're lonely and I fall for you every time." It builds and climaxes with real passion, the emotion he's been grappling with across the whole record finally spilling over.

"Another year, am I falling behind / But I am still here and I am wondering why / Everybody's got it figured out but me." On "Everybody's Got It Figured Out" In the age of social media, Hill feels as if he is speaking directly to the anxiety of comparison that lives in most of us. And true to form, you never know quite what the song is about to do - a surprising key will pop out of nowhere, a build will appear from thin air, and suddenly you're locked back in anticipating what might happen next. 

Angry, bold, heavy-handed and percussive - the tambourine is at the heart of "Blood Is Cheap". Hill's voice is at its most dominant and confident, especially at the start and just when you think you've got the hang of it, the music briefly becomes something approaching metal rock before pulling itself back. It's another anthem and the band behind him play like they’ve been given the green light to let it rip.

"Ghost Town" is genuinely a little terrifying. A big, spiralling story with a hi-hat and coiling guitar pattern, yells and screams bleeding into the background, the whole thing threatening to engulf the listener. "Ain't no man could put this madness to an end / It's a ghost town, all the sinners are kings, all the saints are compromised and no one wonders why." It feels haunted - a scrambled mind running through a haunted house. A standalone moment in the LP that somehow shares space with everything around it.

"Lady Arkansas" is quite the change of pace. The most inherently beautiful moment on the record. The piano keys, country warmth - heartfelt and romantic in a way the album hasn't touched before. It shows the full breadth of Hill's range and makes you realise just how much ground this record covers.

"Blanket Canvas" is a true curtain call as Hill's boldest, deepest vocal performance on the record - whimsical at first, before a rock chorus, drum and guitar combo makes it a real head banger. "Try to find the blankest canvas and see if you can stand it for a while." And then, to close: "Open my heart but it always hurts." A finishing line that quietly summarises the ache running through every song on this record.

Everybody's Home, Nobody's Happy is a debut that caters to almost everyone, whether its indie pop, rock, country, blues - held together by Hill's vulnerability and raw vocal talent -it’s warm, gloomy, funny, scary and showcases Hill’s impressive instinct for a type of story telling that feels rare. 

Listen to Everybody's Home, Nobody's Happy below: