Erynn McLeod is on a Tear.
In just 4 short months, Erynn Mcleod has won WNRN’s Tiny Desk song competition for Man of the House, won Song of the Day at big boy NPR, and secured a triumphant record release show at the Southern. And because she has apparently figured out how to make a day have more than 24 hours, she teaches students to sing and play at the Front Porch and has recently been named to a leadership position there. I sat down and talked with her recently to find out how the hell this all happened. It’s a study in how overnight success is almost always actually a (young) lifetime of hard work. Bazz caught her show at the Southern and files the report after the interview.
— Old Hank
Old Hank has told me more than once that his former voice teacher from The Front Porch is the real deal. With him on vacation, I figured it was time to see for myself. So Sunday night, I scooped up my oldest daughter and headed to The Southern for Erynn’s Man of the House EP release.
Sharing a voice like Erynn’s with my daughter turned a good night into something I’ll remember for a long time.
The energy in the room was buzzing thanks to the young talent Erynn invited to share the evening, locals Kylie Grunsfeld and Clair Boyer. Then Richmond’s Tyler Meacham took the stage, playing a set that included her song Dream House, which won WNRN's 2024 Tiny Desk Contest. It was fitting lead-in, since this year’s 2025 winner was none other than Erynn herself with Man of the House.
After a pause, Erynn walked onto The Southern stage to own her night. She opened with intimacy, joined by Sydney Boggs on vocals and Chris Matthews on guitar and vocals. The trio’s chemistry was effortless, trading smiles as their voices wove together through Bluebird, Skeleton, When You Know, and The Optometrist.
From there, Erynn stood alone with just her guitar, delivering Just a Person, Nicotine Patch, One Eye Open, and Abigail.
But then the space transformed. Mike Crop grabbed a bass, Brian Brubaker stepped behind the drums, Sydney and Chris joined Erynn back on stage, expanding to a five-piece band. They rolled right into the EP, an unflinching exploration of honesty, survival, and transformation. Performed live, those themes hit with even greater force.
I Built It wrestles with truths too heavy to speak, honesty that threatens to choke on its way out:
I built it so big in my head it won’t fit in my throat
Onstage, Erynn let the vulnerability hang in the air, her voice clear and steady even as the words quivered with weight.
Opal captures the way repeated dishonesty forces us into the role of interpreter, until the burden becomes too much to bear:
Opal, you’re teaching me to read you when you’re lying through your teeth
From there, the band dove into House on Fire, a song that explores family chaos and how it shapes the way we see the world. Erynn cuts through like a promise:
I leave home and find my people
Find God outside the steeple and the devastation passes
There is green beyond the ashes
Just a Person is a refusal to make empty promises when we can’t offer up what others need or demand:
You want the ocean, well I have a bucket.
That’s not gonna cut it, that’s not gonna cut it.
The centerpiece of the night was Man of the House, a song that begins as a message from mother to daughter on survival and capability:
And she said, You′ve got to be Man of the House, kid of the year
You deal with the shit, you fuck all the fear
You grin and you bear it, you scream till you cry
But then Erynn internalizes the advice, owns it, turning survival into triumph:
I′ve got to be Man of the House, kid of the year
I'll deal with the shit, I′ll fuck all the fear
I'll grin and I′ll bear it, I'll scream till I cry
Oh the only way out is through or I die
The show closed with Quiet. After fire, heartbreak, and survival, this song offered peace and hope:
I am simultaneously 9 and 19, 29
The ending of a decade and I finally have a healthy mind
The quieter you become, the more you can hear
And I hear it
And I’m not alone anymore
Taken together, Man of the House is a map through fire. On Sunday night, Erynn and her band didn’t just play these songs, they lived them, let us feel them, and proved that after everything– chaos, heartbreak, pressure, and release–that connection and softness are still possible.
Keep the beat,
Bazz
