A conversation with Tre. Charles

Transcript from episode twenty-two of the Good Folk podcast.

SPENCER GEORGE: Hello folks. My name is Spencer George and you're listening to the Good Folk podcast. Today let me introduce you to the incredible Tre. Charles, who you can also catch at our upcoming Good Folk Fest taking place this Saturday, July 1, at the Hall River Ballroom in Saxapahaw, North Carolina. Head to our site at www.goodfolksonly.org/events for tickets. Please note this event has already passed. You can find our recap of the evening here. 

Tre. Charles is an alternative indie soul artist who dives into the depths of his soul and invites you into his world with an expressive blend of warm and soulful undertones, profound and powerful lyrics, and emotive crooning, all of which helps you navigate your way through the encompassing experience. Growing up along the East Coast from city to city, Tre has been exposed to a myriad of different cultures. It is from these experiences that he has cultivated a sound of his own, which pays homage to his nomadic upbringing. With hints of avant garde R&B, modern indie rock and ambient soul, Charles's honest and thought provoking music has the ability to make every performance feel like a transformative experience. 

He has been compared to musicians like Frank Ocean, Moses Sumney, Sampha and James Blake to name a few, but this artist has a sound all his own. Tre. has acquired many cosigners along his artistic journey, one of which being the World Renowned Guitar Company D'angelico Guitars, who he is now endorsed by as an official artist. He has also been nominated for the Best R&B Artist for the Carolina Music Awards and winner of the Virginia's Favorite Award at the Richmond International Film Festival, as well as dubbed The Future of Music at the 2022 NXNE Music Festival in Toronto. 

Tre. has performed in venues all across the US, from being featured on CBS and NBC programming, to performing at a myriad of festival stages such as Arts Blosure Carolina Jubilee, Dominion Energy River Rock, NXNE, Blacktoberfest, the DC National Cherry Blossom Festival, Charlotte Shout, and many more. His artistry has a unique way of making any setting intimate and personal. Tre. has performed for numerous creative morning sessions as well as numerous Sofar Sounds. He also made his New York debut in 2022 at the legendary Rockwood Music Hall and the renowned Pete's Candy Store to captivated audiences. His lead single “Stressin.” music video amassed 200k plus YouTube streams and gathered major buzz, as well as his debut EP, Currently. From publications such as NPR, Indy Week, We Are Soul, Iggy Mag, Metal Mag, Wonderland Magazine, Notion Magazine, Rated R&B, and many more. Already, after the release of Currently., Charles has been on show lineups with rising talent Devon Gilfillian and world renowned Tank and the Bangas. 

I loved this conversation with Tre. about community building, finding your people and making it as an artist in new places, and I'm so excited to see everything Tre. does from here. I hope you enjoy this conversation. 

SPENCER GEORGE: Actually, Tre., I think that's where I would love to start. We don't usually have any kind of specific agenda, but since this episode will come out right before Good Folk Fest, I would love to hear a little bit in your own words of, what are you thinking of bringing, and how are you feeling about joining a festival at Haw River and being a part of this? 

TRE. CHARLES: I'm super excited. I actually went to Haw River for the first time, like, two months ago, and I was like, this place is beautiful and amazing. And I love the fact that it's just, like, right there kind of in the middle of nowhere, but it brings all these talented people and the whole community kind of comes out there and is just unplugged because there's, like, no cell phone reception either, apparently. And I feel like everybody's just forced to unplug and be right there and then be present. So I love it. It's really dope. 

SG: It's probably my—and I've said this this whole time—but it's my favorite venue, I think, of anywhere ever that I've ever been. I think it's just so cool and so representative of—like, it is kind of in the middle of nowhere, and yet it has such a story and history of all the people who play there. Feels like the perfect place for something like what we do at Good Folk, of just bringing people together across all these different spaces and places, putting them in one room and saying, this is a community now, you know?

TC: And they're all good folk. 

SG: And they're all good folk, exactly. So, Tre., welcome to the Good Folk. We're super excited to have you on that lineup, and you can check out all the action for that July 1st at the Haw River Ballroom. We will link to tickets, and, of course, we'll link to Tre.'s music as well, but I guess that's also a great place to start. Could you tell us a little bit about who you are as a musician and how you got started with this kind of work? 

TC: Okay, I am…an alternative soul artist. That's kind of, like, that's my easy way of describing it because I like all music that kind of, like, bares my soul. So, like, anywhere from Muddy Waters to Kurt Cobain, I felt their soul in what they were singing and what they were talking about. And that's kind of what I want to represent. I want it to feel, like, not necessarily specific to a genre, but specific to you hearing me express myself and express the soul in it. 

SG: I definitely feel like I can see those influences in your work, and it's two kind of disparate genres, but also genres that really work and build on one another and always have kind of throughout the cultural canon. So it's really cool to see those inspirations. How would you describe your music in your own words? 

TC: In my own words, I would describe it as…I guess that was the first part, all indies, but, like, soul and R&B and everything in between there. So I used to listen to… At one point in my life, I used to listen to a lot of classical music. Bach was one of my favorite composers and things like that from the Baroque period and just love the way that the soundscape kind of painted upon itself. And then another period, I started listening to, like, old school blues and then jazz, and then I went through my skater days and I was bumping a lot of grunge. And then I went to my Paramore and Fall Out Boy days and all that stuff. So it's just all over the spectrum as far as the appreciation of expression of music.

I love the fact that the Folk Fest has—Good Folk Fest—has all these different genres, because all this music is…you could appreciate all of it. You don't have to just be set in one specific genre, because I think you close yourself off to experiencing all these different stories. 

SG: I feel really strongly as an artist—I'm not a musician, but I am very much a writer and have been my whole life—that thinking of your work in only one genre can often be so limiting, and when you start combining all of these things, that's almost where the magic happens. And to your point on Good Folk Fest, one thing that was really important to us is to showcase—well, there's all of these different musicians and styles and artists, and they're all kind of working in the same area, too. Which, when most people think of the rural South, they're gonna think, yes, folk music, right? And there's so much more. There's such a diverse music scene happening here and it's really cool to be able to showcase that. 

TC: Yeah, I think what you all are doing is big, and I really feel like it's going to grow because, like you said, there is so many artists. Like, I just met today, Riva from Sarah Shook and the Disarmers. And I'm just like, I love the fact that we are in the same ecosystem of art. Like, I'm doing my thing, you're doing your thing, and we're all just here kind of collectively sharing our stuff. 

SG: Ecosystem is such a great way to describe it in that it's not a movement that's limited by one specific genre or product type. It's this ecosystem where everyone is doing all these different things and yet they make the whole together. And that's part of what makes the whole thing work. If you only had people working in one style of music or on one instrument or just vocalists, you wouldn't have this ecosystem of movement. I think that's part of what makes the Triangle so special, specifically because there's just so much music and so much art and it's all interconnected here in a really special way. 

TC: Yeah, no, I feel like the Triangle—I mean, I've lived a lot of different places, I definitely am a nomad as far as when I have roots and everything. But I feel like the Triangle has been very similar to when I'm up in New York or in Philly and something like that. I just see all these different subcultures and everything and they all are just co-mingling and mixing in and diving in and diving out. You could feel like going to see Americana one day and then you feel like going to see R&B one day and you want to see underground rap and then you want to see—like, it's just all these different genres, and I'm like ‘the Triangle has it.’ It's a lot more accessible than you think it is. 

SG: Yes, I think accessibility is so great to describe it. I lived in New York for a little while and I always tell people that I'm surrounded by more music here than I ever was anywhere I went to live, kind of, quote unquote, for the arts.

All these cities and all these places that you go because you think, this is an art space, I'm an artist. I want to be surrounded by that. It's been one of the biggest surprises of my life, coming back here and realizing, I'm walking out the door and suddenly I'm in the middle of a music festival that I didn't even know was happening.

The arts are surrounding you at a really just—I don't even have the correct words to describe it, but they're just there all the time. It's like they permeated not only the culture, but also the landscape. 

TC: Right. Yeah, I agree. I definitely feel like it's more of…I don't know, it feels like a need in the South for expression. Like, people just want to express themselves. So it's like, oh, I'm just going to play a piano, I don't care where I'm doing it, I'm just going to do it. Versus, like, a bigger city, I feel like a lot of people are going there because of the opportunities and they want to make it, versus in areas like this, it's like there's opportunity, but it's also the feeling of, I just really love doing this and I just really want to share it with everybody, so I'm just going to do it. And then the community is kind of like, oh, yeah, we want to see that, so, do it.

SG: You mentioned in the South specifically this need for expression, which I completely agree with. Do you think part of that has to do right now with the variety of complicated feelings people have about calling this space home, and the need to work through those, whether it's feeling like you grew up here and you want to leave, but you don't know how, or coming back and wanting the South to change in ways that it just sometimes doesn't feel like it's ever going to? Do you feel that part of that manifests in these expressions of artistic creation? 

TC: Yeah, absolutely. I feel like that's a really good question, too. I think that, yeah, the South, just, they really want to—I feel like artists here really have a lot to say because of all the complex things that kind of happen but are not pushed to the forefront as much as a bigger city. Like a bigger city, you can go to a bunch of rallies, you can go to a bunch of protests, you can go to a bunch of things that offer access to the representation.

Here you kind of have to express it in your own way, so it's your way of putting it out, and it's more on the individual and the artists to express that versus the spaces to facilitate it. Or it was at one point. And now places like Good Folk Fest are giving the opportunity for people to see all this and stuff like that, because it definitely wasn't a thing in the past. 

SG: I agree with that completely. Growing up in North Carolina wanting to be an artist, I never felt like there was even any possibility of that, because I'd never seen someone who was really a living or working artist here. And a huge part of the mission of what we do is really just wanting to showcase that not only are there artists of all different types and kinds and genres living and working here, but there have been for a long time.

And you don't have to do it by yourself. You can join this community. But is that something that you felt that it’s been—well, actually, let me backtrack, because where is home for you and how did you end up in the Triangle?

TC: Home for me… So, like I was saying, I'm a nomad, so it's basically the East Coast. I grew up in New York, upstate New York, and then came down to North Carolina, to the Concord-Charlotte area, then moved to Florida, then moved back, then moved to Richmond, and then moved back. So it's like, just up and down the East Coast.

I’ve never really had roots anywhere, so I think—I always like to say that my roots are the communities that I go to. So when I find these communities, I kind of always want to go there when I return to the places because that's what feels like home, in a sense. 

SG: Are there any of those specific communities in any of those places that jump out to you as ones that have felt like home? 

TC: Yeah, I think the Triangle has definitely been a very encouraging and nourishing place as far as art. I first started doing music professionally three years ago, and that was after a car accident. I got in a bad car accident in Florida. And then in the wreckage—it sounds dramatic, but in the wreckage I was just like, what do I want to do with the rest of my life?

I was working a job that I didn't necessarily want to work and I was just like, this could be over super quick, so I want to at least follow my passion. So I came back, kind of taught myself guitar through YouTube University, and was like, I want to go out and start gigging. I started booking gigs and then left Charlotte and moved to the Triangle. I moved to Raleigh first and then pandemic hit, everything shut down and that was a terrible time to start art, but that's when I did it. And yeah, after that, I kind of just made a way and figured out how to survive off of that through the pandemic, and then moved to Durham and released my project. And it's been really well received from everyone in the Triangle. So I'm like, this is where it took off, this is where the bird started flying. So I guess, yeah, the Triangle, long answer.

SG: And do you feel that all the different places you've lived—because I, too, am someone who's moved around a lot. I’ve also been in California, North Carolina, South Carolina, New York. I'm right there with you. When you think about place in your work, do you feel that that's influenced at all or even just the South in general? 

TC: I definitely think, yeah, all the places that I go and the experiences that I have kind of play into the expression and how I want to express myself through art. Music has always been an easier way for me to talk about my feelings versus just saying it out loud in a conversation or anything like that. Situations with—well, the whole EP basically was talking about mental health and stress. It was birthed out of the killing of George Floyd and the protests that happened and the pandemic starting, and it was just a very stressful time. So I was like, all right, how can I express this? Because I don't know how to express it. And then I made my song Stressin. and that was birthed out of those experiences from those places that I lived.

SG: Art can often become a language to communicate things that we feel but can't really articulate, and I think music is one of the best ways to do that. When you think about what you want your music to say or what you want people to—actually, let me backtrack again, because I think a huge piece of it is not even always about what you want to say, but also is the listener willing to listen and to pick up on what you're trying to say. When you think about that mutual relationship, what is it you want to say and what is it you want people to listen to? 

TC: You got some real hard hittin’ questions.

SG: [Laughs]. It's what we do here. Take a minute to think about any of them. 

TC: Yeah. I'm like, oh, wow. Okay. What I want to say is basically, like I said before, I connected with artists that kind of bare their souls in a sense, and I was connected with artists like that. I connected with Kid Cudi and people who really talked about things that they were going through and that were relatable. So what I want to say through my music is to share that I'm also going through these things, and you're also going through these things. You can get through it, and you're not alone in going through it. You're not the only one going through it.

So I think, my music kind of…I guess as far as people wanting to listen to it, it's like, I guess people don't necessarily go out and look for songs that say stressing. I don't know if anybody wants to do that, but it's a song kind of like, oh, this is what he's talking about. This is also what I go through and I kind of want to listen to, what I want to connect with. I want to feel a part of something. 

SG: When you put an artistic product out into the world—I describe it to people as it's, like, almost reaching through the ether and waiting for someone to grasp on. Do you feel that you've found your community and found your audience in putting out this new EP—which, for the record, by the way, is amazing. I've been obsessed with it ever since I first listened.

TC: Thank you. You're very kind. I appreciate it. My community, as far as, like, have I found it? I think that's a weird idea, yeah. I don't know. I don't know if I've found it, per se. I feel like they're finding me, in a sense.

I think the people that I meet—like you and Vic are part of that community now of people that I feel like kind of have a connection to [the music], and I feel like through that connection of the music, I have connection with y’all now. Like, y’all get it, you understand, like this is not a bop—and no shade to anybody who makes bops, bops are necessary, but I'm not a bop maker at this time… Yeah, I think people who like the music and get the music, I think I have a connection with automatically because you kind of understand this is what I'm trying to share. 

SG: I love the way you reframe it as, it's actually my community finding me. We often have this idea—and this comes up a lot in this podcast—that with community you're just going to go somewhere that you feel is right for you and the community piece is just going to happen, right? You're going to put something out and then people are just going to find you. But really what it is, in my mind, is this act of mutual reciprocity. You have to be willing to put yourself out there, but people also—you do have to be actively in search of community.

I think it's so easy in today's world, especially post-pandemic, to really just close yourself off from that and say, it's harder to find community and I don't want to put myself out there to also be known in that way. In a recent conversation we had on the podcast, we were talking about the difference between vulnerability and openness of, it's one thing to be open and to say ‘I'm open to finding community,’ but it's a whole different thing to be vulnerable, both as an artist to your listeners, but also as a listener, you’re taking in that artist's vulnerability and making assumptions and stereotypes and biases all about them as you listen, and you have to actively fight that sometimes, I think. And really say you’re going to be vulnerable on both sides. 

TC: And try to inquire and actually do a deeper dive versus just saying, oh, off of this, I think I know this person, but like, understanding the complexities that you have and the complexity that this person might also have. It's not always going to be this and giving people the room to grow and the room to not necessarily be who they were yesterday when you listen to them. They could be somebody different. That's part of the process of life. I don't know if I'm answering anything, I'm just talking. 

SG: That's exactly what this is. We're just having a conversation. You're making me think about the idea too, that community is not something you find and it's done, but it's an ecosystem, exactly how we started this conversation. It's ever growing and ever changing and you're constantly seeing how that shifts and evolves, right? There are people coming in and people coming out. It's not a static thing. I think music really showcases that. Like, every band has all these different tentacles and pieces that are working together, and it doesn't mean it's going to be like that forever, but at least in the moment. 

TC: Exactly. And yeah, I think it's such an unfortunate thing that we kind of do—and I think that just, I mean, life as a whole, like, you start to realize some of these micro-tendencies that you do to try to feel safe and feel stable. But you kind of put these people in these positions of like, if you change, then you are no longer for me, which is not necessarily true. If they change, they're growing, and you're also growing.

Everybody's going to be continuously growing on this journey, and it shouldn't be a stagnant situation. You always want to improve, and that improvement goes through ebbs and flows on a regular basis.

I used to really struggle with that. I used to really struggle with change in a sense, but then I think going through therapy and my girlfriend honestly helping me, pushing me, being like, you kind of need to work on these things to make it and to enrich your life. And I was like, okay, so that’s kind of what happened. It's more of a letting go situation, like the vulnerability thing that you talked about. You have to be vulnerable enough to know that you are not the answer all the time. 

SG: That's so well said. As an artist, do you think you feel that pressure to hold a bit of that static personality? If you are working to connect to your listeners through this emotional vulnerability, do you worry about, what if I change, or what if I want to switch up my sound? Or what if people don't like me in ten years the way they like my sound now? Is that something you grapple with at all?

TC: I guess not as much of the ‘if they don't like me in ten years’ because I have a select, humble following. So I'm like, I appreciate all y’all. If y’all like me in ten years, you do, you don’t, I get it. But yeah, I guess I haven't got that pressure yet of feeling that. I think we all want to be accepted as artists. We all want to be received, we all want to connect. That's the reason why we make the art, because it's our expression. It's our, like you said, our vulnerability, and putting it out there, putting a piece of us out there to be like, hey, look what I did, do y’all rock with it? If someone says no, then it's always going to be like, ah.

But I think it's being able to go inside yourself and have that stability and have that confidence that you're not going to be for everybody and you're not going to be for everybody at all times. And just really having that as a mantra, I think, keeps me from thinking on that level of, like, they might not like the next one or they might not like that.

SG: You've mentioned a lot of things thus far in our conversation that feel like you've spent a lot of time doing kind of the inner work. Things like therapy or just really sitting with yourself and figuring out what is it that I care about or that I'm trying to communicate. And all of that is a very vulnerable process, but it almost requires that first step of vulnerability with yourself. Is that something that's come easy to you or something that you feel like has influenced your work? 

TC: Oh, definitely not easy, but it has absolutely influenced my work. I feel like early on, I didn't necessarily know what I wanted. I think I always loved music, but I didn't necessarily understand what I wanted to share. And then I think going through life and having these different experiences that now I'm like, oh, I can apply what I love to express about these things that happen to me or these things that I've gone through and maybe make a connection with other people.

I think, yeah, it's constantly work. And it's interesting how society has made us think that artistry is like, oh, it's easy. Or relationships, it should be easy, it should be natural, it shouldn't become a struggle. But anything that you care about, you're going to have to work at, you're going to have to apply effort.

And that's on a daily basis. We see in relationships, people get complacent, people get stagnant, and we see sometimes in music with certain people you're like, ‘okay, they're coming out with the same thing,’ and maybe they like it, or maybe they are stuck in a stagnant place. Because I know I hear a couple—I've heard a couple—of interviews of artists talking about their music, and they're like, ‘yeah, I kind of feel like, you know, I'm not necessarily growing,’ or ‘I had to put this out because I was going through a moment of feeling stagnant, so I had to take a break and step away.’ So I think that applies on a constant basis of just putting in the effort and putting in the work, the inner work, and applying that to your art. 

SG: How do you navigate that in the current arts climate, which is so focused on like, you want one song to blow up on TikTok, right? And then you're going to tease it out for four months and then release it.

It feels to me that artistry and the landscape of artistry, specifically music, has changed so much post-pandemic, and especially with the rise of social media. How do you think about that? Of, I'm someone who's making music, and I want to stay true to what I have to say, but also I’ve got to pay the bills.

TC: Exactly. Yeah, personally, I get it. You can always be like, I think that's the same thing as far as the growth aspect—just because it's not the same way doesn't mean that it's bad. You kind of have to use it and navigate it the way that you want to navigate.

As far as social media and teasing songs now, with the TikTok thing, I don't necessarily feel like that is my personal expression. And I know it's worked for a lot of people, but I'm not one to, right now, make songs for TikTok and for people to make sound bites and stuff like that. Just because that's not necessarily what I like. But there are a lot of sound bites on TikTok that I actually really like, and I'm like, ‘oh, word, this is cute, this is clever, it's catchy,’ but it's just not something that I would do.

I feel like my connection with people is more of an intimate performance of like, ‘hey, this is me sharing this with you. Is this something that you also feel?’ versus, like a quick twelve second, look at me, kind of thing. Yeah. 

Tre. at Good Folk Fest 2023. Photo by Victoria Landers.

SG: I'm thinking about our initial thoughts that we discussed with genre and the ways in which what we're talking about now is so similar and also so different because it's like, on the one hand, you want to find your lane and stick to it, but also you don't want to be stuck there right? You don't want to be attached to it. You want to find what it is that I feel like you are drawn to and inspired by.

In our conversation with Matt, who I know you know, he talked a lot about finding your obsessions and just following those. But also, you want to remain open to growing and to changing and to seeing where life takes you. And to me, so much of that is about this act of just learning how to pay attention, whether it's to the people in your life and the relationships or the things that you're obsessed with or inspired by or even just like, taking a walk and being really intentional about what you take in and then letting that seep into your art in a way that art almost becomes a reflection of the world around you. Whether that's the people around you, the spaces around you, the places, but it's not static. But it is about knowing this is what I believe in, and I'm secure in that belief, but I'm not chained to it.

TC: Yeah, I love how you said that. The effort of paying attention, like, the intentionality of paying attention. I think so many of us on a regular basis, unknowingly, just let things kind of go by, and we kind of just, like, go with the motion, in a sense. And it's hard to not do that, but it's also human, and I think that's an important part—to always apply the grace of, okay, I'm not capturing this moment perfectly and using it to apply to a song to get out there and market and stuff like that. It's like you're actually experiencing it, and you're taking the time to recognize what it made you feel, how it made others around you feel, and stuff like that. So I think that—I forgot. I'm going on a rant. What's your question again? 

SG: I don't even know. [Laughs]. I think your rant is perfect, and it's making me think that art…I think art under capitalism is such a difficult thing to wrap your head around sometimes, and it feels like art under capitalism becomes a product. And what you're describing is art as an experience, which I think is so beautiful and meaningful and exactly what most musicians do.

It's not just crafting a song that sounds nice to listen to or that's marketable, but a song that really for the three, four minutes you're listening to it, you're having this experience and this emotional reaction. That can be so difficult to navigate when you're like, ‘I have to pay rent.’ I mean, how many artists are holding down second jobs? I think it's probably almost all of us.

TC: Yeah, it's definitely a tightrope. I know some amazing, amazing artists who are super talented but don't necessarily know how to leverage that to live with or to have that as a livelihood. And then I know some artists that kind of skated by in a sense, but they are living in houses in LA, and kind of doing the TikTok thing and letting that pay for everything. So it's not necessarily like a deep self expression, but it is a lucrative thing. So, like, that art under capitalism statement… I feel like that's really hard, but not even hard, it's just made it harder to find stuff that you really can connect with because of the oversaturation.

People saw how lucrative this can be and they kind of get sold on the lifestyle and the imagery of artistry versus the expression. It's more of, ‘oh, I want to be on that big stage doing that,’ versus ‘I want to let people know how I feel about something.’ And yeah, I think it is like it's a tightrope and that's the work that you have to constantly put forth, and it's okay if you want to do it for monetary gain and kind of do that, that's a way to do it. I think for me, I'd rather have the connection outweigh the monetary game. 

SG: It also feels like it prevents a lot of people who might be amazing artists from participating in that because they feel that they don't fit that image or that it's not financially possible, and so there's no point in trying. And especially the image piece, I think is so important and huge when it comes to talking about the South and the rural South specifically, because when you don't have that representation and you don't have an image, or the image that you do have of artistry is not something you feel you align with, then you're like, ‘well, what's the point in trying? I'm never going to be like living in a big mansion in Hollywood, or living in a New York penthouse making art, so why do it here?’ Which is something that I feel like I navigated, and it took me a really long time to work out. But I'd be interested to know if you feel like that's something you've thought about in your own life. 

TC: I mean, I think to piggyback off of that, I kind of go in a different direction. I think in the South, It's like the idea of, well, this music that I'm making is not necessarily seen here or represented here so it's kind of hard. I don't necessarily know where my entry point is versus being in a big city. They have so many genres and so many different subgenres that you can kind of find your niche anywhere.

In the South, it's getting better, but it has been pretty limited as far as the subgenres. It's pretty broad, like R&B, rock, Americana, country. Everything else that's kind of in between there is kind of thrown into alt. And it's not necessarily—like it might be alt, but it's kind of a blend of all those things that we were talking about. 

I think one of my issues at first was— as far as identity—knowing that I liked a lot of different music but not knowing how to blend it and where to perform it. Because these spots that I wanted to perform at aren't used to this sound and might not accept the sound or receive the sound that I'm trying to say.

I think to the benefit of social media is that it has given a lot more people the opportunity to share wherever they're at in the world. And like we said, that community kind of finds them and says, ‘well, hey, this person is living in North Carolina and they're making this amazing disco country pop,’ and their community kind of finds them.

So I think for me, it was more of that. Like not necessarily knowing where my music would fit in and what lane, where I could find an entry point and how to make it sustain my life. 

SG: I think that's so well said. It also feels like it would be remiss here not to mention the amount of music that has been stolen from people living and working in the South. I mean, you can go all the way back to Elvis taking gospel music and making it his own thing, to Link Wray being from North Carolina and writing Rumble and then that influences an entire generation of rock musicians.

Because we don't have those stories told, we’re now in this moment that a lot of people think they just don’t exist. It feels like one of our main pieces of work right now as artists in the South—whether you choose to take this up or not, I feel like it's definitely been a huge thing for me—but is uncovering some of those stories and saying, ‘I was fooled into this, but how many other people are not? They just have no idea.’ You can look at every rock band that's come and recorded at Muscle Shoals and has stolen the kind of blues sound, Jack White being a huge one. And how do you navigate that as an artist? I mean, not this is not you specifically, but artists needing to recognize, like, the roots of where their work is coming from. All art builds on other art, but it's been astounding to me, the more I dig into it, of just how much has been taken without any credit. 

TC: Yeah, I mean I definitely appreciate you talking about it. I think that it's important because everybody's not going to know where everything comes from. That's an impossible thing to ask every artist. To say, hey, do your homework and know all the lineage of this riff. And it's like, ‘I don't know that. I know I heard something. It inspired me, and I want to do that.’

I think that goes back to the beginning of the conversation when we were talking about openness and vulnerability and being open to saying, ‘Hey, this is actually where this came from,’ and being vulnerable enough to say, ‘Oh, I didn't know that. That sucks. Let me talk about this more, because I wasn't the one.’ I can take the fault of being like, ‘Oh, I wasn't aware of this,’ versus some artists that are like, ‘Oh, well, okay.’ 

It's, like, kind of helping echo, like, ‘Oh, I didn't know that it was taken, and I want to highlight it. I want people to know that, like, this song came from here.’  Like, I was talking about Kurt Cobain earlier, like, Where Did You Sleep Last Night—

SG: That's exactly the song I was thinking about. 

TC: Is by Lead Belly. And it's just like, a lot of people don't know where that song came from. They know the Kurt version. And then I know further down the line, people know the Kid Cudi version. I don't know if you heard that one, it’s a really dope version. But yeah, just being able to—when you do find out, also talking about it. I think that's the important thing, and I think that's where a lot of people get protective and lazy in a sense of just like, eh, whatever.

Music is all a story. It's a language. So this is what you're studying, literally, the folklore. This is a message. This is something that's going to carry through time, so if we keep talking about it, we keep telling people about it, it'll help preserve it, and that'll help make sure people don't forget about these other artists that have laid this foundation and paved the way. Because it's absolutely like, imitation is the highest form of flattery. You're doing it because you love it, but don't forget that you loved it before you did it. 

SG: Art can't be consumed in a vacuum, which, again, feels to me a pathway out of this capitalist production model of art in that you're not just taking something in, but you're allowing yourself to have that experience. And oftentimes that can come with unlearning.

It feels in my mind that art, I think, is our best path forward into where we are in this cultural moment in the South and that a lot of people just don't know things because we haven't seen these stories and they haven't been told. You're not getting this in a history book in your North Carolina classroom, right? So then when you become an adult and you have access to the Internet and you start to find these things out, I think that's a really hard moment for a lot of people, and they don't quite know where to go from there. Art can be a space that opens that conversation, but also holds space to have that conversation.

I think it's so great what you talk about, of artists being willing to engage in that and say, ‘It’s so good you learned this thing, now we have to talk about it,’ right. It feels like we're in this cultural moment, especially coming out of 2020, where people uncovered a lot of stuff and said, ‘Okay, now I know this,’ but I don't feel like we've really talked about it yet, especially in the South. We're just kind of trying to say, ‘Well, this happened and we're just going to move on and move forward.’ I mean, I have to even look at today— as we’re recording, it’s Juneteenth. I got my nonprofit job off of work. But how many people are actually engaging with learning anything about the holiday or what it means? Now it's just going to become another Monday off. 

TC: Exactly. Yeah. It's such a slippery slope, I guess. I think it all stems from capitalism. As far as, like, this is something that we can use to generate more money, more income, which is necessary, but it's also like, where do you apply the capital that you're acquiring? Like, where is this going? Is it going to be something that's going to enrich this, is going to be something that's going to be beneficial to celebrate this holiday? As far as Juneteenth, Cinco de Mayo, all these new holidays that are starting to get recognized that frankly weren't necessarily asked to be recognized, but have been acquired by capitalism and kind of used as a stepping stone for them. Even with Pride and the amount of money that corporations put into it, but don’t necessarily have those core values, it's just like, well, what are we doing with the capital that we are getting from this? 

It's going to rely on more artists to actually talk about it, because artists are the people that, in a sense, are the vocal, they're the mouthpiece, they're the vocalizers. And I think, like, with what we were talking about with all these artists kind of popping up and doing the TikTok and things like that, people see the fame and they see the lifestyle, and they don't necessarily take on the responsibility of being the voice. It's not necessarily a champion of the voice anymore, and I think that's kind of what I want to avoid. I don't want to just be somebody who's just up there singing. I want to actually share something, share beliefs, share opinion and kind of help versus just not saying anything. 

SG: It feels like so much of the marketing is so hollow. Like, I don't need to walk into Target and see a shirt with my identity on it, right? I want to know that I can be safe in my own community.

It's a really odd thing in the South right now to do that because you're walking into Target and you're looking at Pride collections on the shelves right now for June. And also every day I'm waking up to a new bill where something else is being rolled back or another queer community is under attack. And it's like, how do you even balance those things? And I think, just like we talked about at the very beginning, art can be a space to process those complicated feelings and deal with it by looking at it up close and saying, this is what's happening, but I'm all going to do the work to learn the deeper history behind it and hold space for both of those things. Of, it can be good that we're moving forward in this direction and making some progress, but also, at what cost? Now we're just marketing t-shirts for Target to make more money. How are we balancing things of, you can't profit off the community without also creating an element of kind of mutual aid and mutual respect? Which I don't think we have right now.

TC: Yeah. And it's sad, honestly, but I think that unfortunately, a lot of the responsibility is going to be put on artists, which is a tough situation. And it's kind of like that Spiderman quote—“with great power comes great responsibility.”

It's kind of like, yeah, what do you really want to do? I mean, I've had this conversation with my girlfriend, talking about, like, a couple of years ago… I forgot her name, but a singer, a black singer, she got hired to sing at Trump's inauguration. And it's just like, yeah, you got hired to do that, and he paid you a lot of money, but Trump doesn't care about you at all or anything that you represent. So it's like, are you willing to do that? To compromise your art or to get the bag, the capitalism? Or are you willing to do something different like go to the Super Bowl and talk about your culture in your community, like Beyonce or J. Lo and Shakira or something like that on those big national fronts and actually say, hey, don't look at me, this is what I'm representing. I don't care if it makes you uncomfortable. This is it. This is me. So, yeah, it's tough. It's a tough line, and I think it's not for everybody, which is an unfortunate truth of the matter, but I think somebody has to do it. People have to do it. 

SG: As an artist, what do you hope to represent or what do you feel that you want people to know about you through your work? 

TC: I want people to know that I am just as complex as they are and just as nuanced as they are. I am a Black man, and I also am a son. I am a brother. I am a brother to an older brother that lives in Florida and he has his own beliefs and a younger brother to a sister. I said older brother, a younger brother. I'm the youngest, I’m the baby, but a younger brother to my sister who lives in Virginia who just got married, and her and her wife are very happy. I have intersectionality. There's so much intersectionality that we all have and that we all have to represent and we all have to talk about, and if we don't, it's kind of like, why are we in this together? We're not in it together. So I don't know. I just be rambling sometimes. 

SG: I think that's perfectly said, and I say this all the time here, but one of the greatest problems we face in Southern Studies right now is that we think of this place as a monolith, right? I mean, Florida and Texas kind of get to be their own things. Half the people don't even consider them part of the South, but there's intersectionality and multiplicity in all of these places and in all of these people.

Good Folk was born out of me knowing that I might disagree on a lot of things with my family, but also wanting to really try to believe that they're good people and that we can have these conversations and we can hold space for this nuance and this complexity, which we have to do in this region right now. Like, we can't just expect everybody to all suddenly wake up and agree. That would be ridiculous. But how can we use art as a pathway to say, I believe there's good in everybody, I believe there's community to be built, there's obviously work to be done, but can we not try to do it together? Or, is it not more powerful if we can at least attempt to do it together?

It might fail. This might be a huge, horrible experiment, and I might look back in ten years and be like, wow, look at all this time I wasted. But I feel like right now it feels really both radical and important for me to say that I really do believe there are good folk and that if we can have the conversations and work together, somehow, there might be a path forward here. I don't know what it looks like, but…

TC: Yeah, I definitely agree with you. I feel like there are good folk everywhere you go. You're going to find people that have different opinions and different viewpoints and political viewpoints and orientations and identities. And when you go into these communities, they're like, oh, that's Mark. I like Mark. Oh, that's Susan. I like Susan. Susan's a different person than me, but I still, I like Susan. Susan's a good person. So I think if we lean more, like you said, the Good Folk concept of, like, ‘yo, you're a good person, and just because we think differently doesn't mean that you are any less than who I am and I'm any less than who you are.’ Then we can work together to kind of have a cohabitating ecosystem where we're all happy and we're all respectful of each other's beliefs. 

SG: It's seeing people as human more than as kind of a stereotype or an association, which is really, really difficult to do. And again, not to harp on about art being like the all powerful thing, but I really do think that art and storytelling and music and creative processes can help us to see people as human. It's that mutual relationship of vulnerability. And just like you said, I have to see my art—my listeners—as people as much as they have to see me as a person, as an artist, and hold nuance and complexity on both sides. 

TC: Exactly. I agree. I think that unfortunately, social media has kind of taken that away a bit, the human aspect of things. And now with the whole—we won't get into the AI situation, but the humanity is— I think that is the secret sauce. That makes this place interesting. That's what makes this place relatable and makes this place bearable—the connection that we can actually have with people versus trying to hold somebody to a category that an algorithm has said, or that people have tried to program into us.

SG: Are there any particular moments for you as an artist that you feel like you really got at that humanity or that connection was really present? 

TC: Like, as far as shows?

SG: As far as shows, as far as fans, as far as emails. It could be anything. 

TC: I mean, with this conversation right here, this is a very human conversation. I love it. I appreciate it. 

SG: Well, we appreciate you being here. 

TC: Yeah. 

SG: Conversations are nothing without people to have them with. 

TC: It's really dope. Honestly, I love things like this because it's like we are actually having a conversation and dialogue about different things. Like, I feel like we all come from different backgrounds and different communities and different identities, but it's like we can all learn from each other. We can all have opinions, and I'm sure there's going to be discourse somewhere, but there doesn't have to be a lack of respect.

We've all got to this point, so how are we gonna disrespect somebody who's got to this point? Like, we're all alive, we're all living, we're all out here in this world. So, like, let's respect the fact that we're all out here in this world. I guess humanity—the biggest time that humanity has come is every time I do a show, I kind of meet somebody who tells me, I really vibe with you and your message and your story and connection. So anytime somebody comes up to me and says they dug it, I was like, word. 

SG: It's always such a cool feeling when people tell you they appreciate your art, because, again, it feels like half the time—I mean, honestly, most of the time—you're making this thing and putting it out and it's out there, but no one's engaging with it or reacting to it. And to hear from someone of, I saw a piece of myself in this thing that you made, and now we have this connection, is like the coolest feeling in the world. Like, it really feels like a magic trick half the time. 

TC: Yeah. And I think with the whole—I told you I wasn't going to talk about the AI thing, but as far as, like, the whole perfection standard of it needing to be the perfect song and the perfect pitch and perfect playing of an instrument and the perfect everything. I'm just like, that doesn't—that seems boring. That doesn't seem like an experience. Like, I want to see somebody up there singing hard and voice cracking or having the nuances of their voice, of whatever it is, if they're chain smoking cigarettes in the back, or if they do nothing but drink water. I want to hear their experience. I want to hear their lyrics and their music through them versus a situation where it's a computer generating something of perfection and perfect tone and everything like that. 

SG: It's the human side of the artist. I love reading about artist routines and processes and all the different things. You get to kind of break down that very stereotypical image of, oh, artists live in Hollywood, artists live in New York City, they're doing this, they're all billionaires, and I'm not that, so I can't be an artist. But when you actually learn about artists, you realize, oh, they're just people, too. And if I'm a person and I'm interested in art, I, too, could do this thing. And I think that that's so cool and so powerful, and we just need to be encouraging more people to realize that artistry doesn't have to look one way. You can do it all of these different ways. And everyone's an artist in their own right. 

TC: Exactly like, there's artists in anything you do. I think art is appreciation. Like, you're appreciating somebody for putting themselves out there, creating something, and you're like, oh, I could probably do that too. Or, I might not be able to do that, but it’s really amazing that they were able to do that. I connect with that. I feel like that is the basic thing of humanity, and I feel like the appreciation is the key. Even appreciate somebody just going out there and doing it. It's a hard thing to do, to put yourself out there. Not everybody can do it or wants to do it in that way. So I definitely am an appreciator of anybody who creates, because I feel like everybody kind of creates. 

SG: I agree. I think everyone creates, and it's an appreciation, or it's paying attention enough to appreciate that someone's being vulnerable and showing their humanity. And whether you like it or not, it's not easy to put yourself out there in that way. And I commend anyone who does it and everyone who considers themselves an artist and is willing to claim that term, because it's a hard thing to be doing down here. 

TC: It's always a taboo when someone says, like, oh, I'm an artist. Oh, okay. So you're automatically thinking, might be broke. You might be out there just wild in the world.

And it's like, everybody's kind of an artist. Like, we're all creating something somewhere. Even if you're making potholders at home, like, that's an art. If you like to craft, that's art. I'm rambling again, so just stop me. 

SG: No, I love it. If you could say something to the world about what it means to be an artist that isn't necessarily part of that stereotypical model, what do you think you would say, or even to other artists, about people who are aspiring to go into art? What does it mean to you to be an artist? 

TC: There's no one way to do it. I think for a long time, I used to think that you had to be a certain age and start learning at a certain time, or you had to go to school and kind of to learn this, or you had to know the musical knowledge of everything, or you had to be super proficient. But I think every artist started off somewhere. Nobody was, like, naturally just amazing when they first started.

One of the things that I did see on social media is you have to be willing to be an artist. I forgot how it said it. I think it was like, every artist at some point started out cringe, and I was like, I love that. I know I was cringe for a while. So I think that's it. Don't be scared to be cringe. 

SG: You have to go through that. I'm afraid to even look back at some of my old notebooks and see what's been written in there, but you're never going to figure out what it is you want to say and what feels meaningful to you without really kind of doing that inner work first. And that inner work is often cringe and exhausting and difficult, but it's very necessary. 

TC: And that's growth, that's humanity. We're all gonna be cringe at some point as long as we're growing and not trying to stay cringe. 

SG: And there are judgment free spaces that will hold space for that cringe. This is one of them. So you’ve just got to find your community and be open to it, for sure.

Tre., It's been such a pleasure to talk to you. And I'm so excited to get to see you in person soon at Good Folk Fest, which we're going to link to everything and have all the promo for that. But that is coming up on July 1 at the Haw River Ballroom here in Saxapahaw, North Carolina.

We do have one final question for you that we end all of our podcasts with, and I'm going to leave it up to interpretation for how you would like to take it. But that question is, what is that you believe in? 

TC: Growth. I believe in growth. 

SG: I love that. I think you've got to always be holding space. Be true in who you are, but don't be stuck and hold space for that growth because it's a really beautiful thing.

TC: Because you never know what you might grow into, you know, and it doesn't mean you have to do it. But I believe in it, have the space for it. 

SG: It's as exciting as it is terrifying. And I'm excited to get to watch you grow and all the ways in which you do so because I'm just obsessed with your music and what you do, and I'm sure you've got a long, exciting, full of growth career ahead of you. So we will be here to support in any way that we can, and we're excited to get to be a part of that. 

TC: No, I'm glad. I'm very, very excited to meet both of you in person.

SG: And you all should come out and see Tre. on July 1st at the Haw River Ballroom. Tre., for anyone who wants to find your music and follow along, where else can they find you? 

TC: T-R-E period C-H-A-R-L-Z on Instagram. That is like the best one I'm at. I'm on all social medias, but that's the one I'm the best at. So Instagram, trecharles.com, Tre. Charles at Spotify and all the DSPs and everything like that. And the period is very important because I used to not pay a lot of attention to detail and I used to go through things a lot and just breeze through them. So that's kind of a reminder for myself to always pay attention to the details. 

SG: I think that's a perfect note to end on. Pay attention to the details, follow Tre., come get your tickets and come out for Good Folk Fest, and we will see you there, wherever you are in the world. Have a good day. Good night. Thank you for listening. Be good. Stay good.

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