Name: Merrick Winter
Nationality: British-American
Occupation: Singer, songwriter
Current release: Merrick Winter's The California Zephyr EP is out May 9th 2025 via Tone Tree.  
Recommendations for London: The BFI Southbank Cinema in London. It’s literally underneath Waterloo bridge so you can easily miss it. They screen wonderful classic films there every day, and often have talks from filmmakers and actors. It’s a great opportunity to take in some ‘non-algorithmic content’ and get inspired by something you’ve never heard of. Sometimes I just go there and catch two films in a day. There’s also little free booths where you can sit and watch basically any film in their archive. It’s very dear to me that place.

If you enjoyed this Merrick Winter interview and would like to find out more about his music, releases and upcoming live dates, visit his official homepage. He is also on Instagram, Facebook, and Soundcloud.



Do you think that some of your earliest musical experiences planted a seed for your interest in writing lyrics or poetry? How and when did you start writing?

For me it was definitely the Beatles. They were on all the time in the house growing up and I think I basically owe my lyrical sensibilities to them.

Even age six, I can remember having really visceral reactions to the imagery in “Eleanor Rigby” - the rice in the church, and face in a jar by the door.



They toe the line between absurdity and pathos, which I try to emulate in my own writing.

I was interested in literature and poetry from an early age too, but it wasn’t until about half way through an English degree that I actually found the confidence to share my own writing. Even then it took a long time for me to live up to the moniker of ‘songwriter’ in my own head.

It’s always felt like a very private process that then happens to be shared with others as a by-product.

Entering new worlds and escapism through music and literature have always exerted a very strong pull on me. What do you think you are drawn to most when it comes to writing?

I’m drawn to stories, which I think is similar. I can’t stand music that has nothing to say. What’s the purpose of this piece of art existing? It doesn't have to be grandiose, but will I learn something new about myself, another person, or gain a new perspective on the world? If not, it usually won’t move me.

I’ve become more picky over time too. I have very little patience for music as content. Instrumental music of course performs a different function, but when it comes to lyric writing, I want to be moved. I want to be shown a little world that gives me new possibilities, new ways of being and feeling. That can be as small as a momentary interaction on the street, or as long as a lifetime.

I’m particularly drawn to anything that says something timeless or universal about the human experience, through something mundane. That’s kind of what I was aiming for in ‘The California Zephyr’.

What were some of the artists and albums which inspired you early on purely on the strength of their lyrics? What moves you in the lyrics of other artists?

My dad played me Randy Newman when I was about eleven. I didn’t really get it at the time, but as I’ve matured, he has really become a profound influence.

He’s able to be move between humour and profound loneliness with such grace that it’s hard to name a better lyrical observer of life’s resonant moments.

‘She Chose Me’, ‘Wandering Boy’, basically all of Dark Matter is a masterclass in the perspective gained in later life.



I find those things pretty vital to study as a younger writer because being able to slip into that voice can really lend your work some gravitas beyond your years.

Of course Joni Mitchell for her imagery, and I think her instinct for singling out those intimate life moments that resonate with all of us, despite being so vividly woven as part of her own tapestry. I’m thinking of ‘Coyote’ on Hejira or ‘Carey’ from Blue.



I think what moves me in other artists generally lyrics is a sense that they’ve planted a flag up off in the distance on some high peak, which says, “look, I got here, you can get here too”. A really great lyric to me has always stood out a kind of invitation to top it.

The relationship between words and music has always intrigued me. How do you see it? In how far can music take you to places with your writing you would possibly not have visited without it?

I think that it really depends on what kind of listener you are. Some folks only hear melody and connect less to the meaning of the lyrics.

For me, I think I have always listened to both in equal measure. My connection to music is perhaps more cerebral. I find myself trying not to be too analytical when listening, and just allow the feelings to happen, but often I get lost in trying to figure out ‘why’ I like something.

In songwriting I’m generally of the opinion that music should support the lyrics; that it should be helping you tell the story. I can always tell when that intention isn’t there in a song. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but when the two are weaving in tandem, that to me is how you get somewhere that you can’t go with either on their own (instrumental music and poetry I suppose).

In my own practice, I think I do this through voice leading on the guitar, so that melody is interwoven into the chords. To me, that really re-enforces the lyrics, because the music is saying ‘pay attention to the the vocal’ - it’s not drawing attention away.



At the most basic level, I think it’s about making musical choices that support the feeling of your lyrics, but having said that, sometime subverting the sadness of a lyric with a disarmingly comforting musical world can be just effective.

I’ve done that a couple of times on songs like ‘Stalemate’ and ‘Try Me’.

What are areas/themes/topics that you keep returning to in your lyrics?

I think I most often find myself returning to the idea of what you can learn from strangers.

On this EP, I noticed a tendency to be more interested in other people's stories than my own inner life. To me, ‘The California Zephyr’ is a really a travelogue of longing; of searching for some intangible wisdom in unlikely places. In my head, each song is a different snapshot into a little world, 1940’s Havana with ‘Rosa’, rural Iowa with ‘Chicane’, the western plains with ‘The California Zephyr’.

I’m also not afraid to change my writing style between songs - I think that keeps people on their toes and I like exploring different voices. They don’t all have to be me. A minority of my songs are autobiographical. It’s that great country music saying, ‘not all these stories are real, but they’re all true’.

On the basis of a piece off The California Zephyr, tell me about how the lyrics grew into their final form and what points of consideration were.

On this EP, I collected a lot of material from conversations.

In particular ‘The California Zephyr’ was born from the notes I took after talking with about eight different people over dinner in an Amtrak dining carriage, while on a three day journey to LA.



I got the best lyrics from folks who were actually eager to impart their stories and life lessons - as if they wanted to make sure I know what they knew.

With that song, I edited down the conversation into their most pithy quotes and images, and then tried stringing them together in different orders to music, until a narrative contour emerged. I wanted each verse to feel like a progression on a journey; like one of the stations we stopped at on the way.

The main thing I remember was trying to not get in my own way when the flow was happening - that song came together in a few hours and felt quite fragile while it was taking shape.

I'd love to know how you think the meaning or effect of an individual song is enhanced, clarified or possibly contradicted by the EPs, or albums it is part of. Does the song, for example, need to be consistent with the larger whole?

No I think consistency is overrated. It’s the safe bet in our risk-averse musical landscape and it’s fucking boring. All my favourite artists innovated, evolved and placed themselves ten steps ahead of the mainstream, and in doing so, created the new mainstream.

It’s great to make a ‘coherent’ album, but I’ve never been particularly bothered with the idea of a consistent larger whole. I think my creativity is too scattered for that anyway. What interests me changes on a monthly basis, and I think this EP is a good reflection of that.

‘Chicane’ is very influenced by Tom Waits, ‘Rosa’ is an homage to my love of Buena Vista Social Club and Ry Cooder, and ‘The Seeker’ sounds like some lo-fi Norah Jones. I love all of those artists dearly. If I’m excited about a new genre of music, you’ll eventually hear about it in my work somewhere down the line.



Maybe that makes me a chameleon, but I’ve come to really like that about myself. I end up with a record I’d like to hear and that’s really what matters.

When you're writing song lyrics, do you sense or see a connection between your voice and the text? Does it need to feel and sound “good” or “right” to sing certain words? What's your perspective in this regard of singing someone else's songs versus your own?

I kind of have two ways of writing. One is very intentional, scripted, meticulous, where I know what I want to say beforehand. The other is mumbles ad-libbing along to the contour of the melody which are eventually replaced by actual words. That process is very much stream of consciousness and based on what feels nice to sing.

So yes, I think something feeling good or right can sometimes be enough to get you started. Some folks can even stop there and have it be great art, but I don’t like to waste opportunities to say something meaningful. I’ll rework and wrangle the mumbles into something coherent where possible. Often times a single phrase will come along with the mumbles which usually guides the rest of the narrative. The first coherent thing I say is usually the magnet around which the song slinks into place.

When doing covers, I usually only gravitate towards songs that fall into my vocal range, but completely re-imagining things is often the most fruitful way to approach other people’s songs. We already know the original. Make something new. Note to self I guess.

I would love to know a little about the feedback you've received from listeners or critics about what they thought some of your songs are about – have there been “misunderstandings” or did you perhaps even gain new “insights?”

I actually don’t believe in misunderstandings when it comes to art. I love hearing people’s interpretations after shows, or online because it usually reveals more about them - what they like, what they need, what they want to hear - than my original intention. And I think that’s what good music should be; a kind of blank slate that people can project their life experiences onto.

I often write quite opaque lyrics, so sometimes it’s not always clear what the source material is. ‘Try Me’ and ‘Chicane’ are both very political songs and that layer of meaning is there for you, if you engage with music lyrically, but you can also just vibe to the music.

There have been occasions where people have shared their interpretations and actually helped me to clarify what a song’s broader arc actually is.



A number of people have commented that ‘The California Zephyr’ makes them think of the lifecycle from birth to death.

Take a line like ‘she says it’s not about the destination, see everybody’s headed to that station’. To me, that was really just a paraphrase of something a lovely single mother told me as she got off the train with her son in Albuquerque. It was a moment in time. I didn’t think much more about the meaning. All I knew was that that line had resonance.

Do you have things that you are really into but rarely get to talk about?  

Man, what a great question and what a can of worms. My other love is street photography. My dad was a photojournalist and he would always point out little scenarios that would be make good photos and then explain to me why - composition, some intersecting angle, a particular interaction between strangers.

We had his black and white prints around the house and a couple of photo books by Henri Cartier-Bresson, who to this day is still my favourite photographer besides my dad. When I was at university in London, I used to spend any spare time I had between study and music out in central London looking for interesting moments. I think it really informed my songwriting sensibility too.

To seek out meaning with intention and make the decision to capture it or not, is a lesson in assessing something’s universal human resonance, and the interest or attention it might command over a viewer. Bresson called it the ‘decisive moment’ and in songwriting, I guess I’d call it the ‘image moment’ (a writing term coined by Jack Grapes).

I could spend hours just observing the world, but it also made me a bit of a loner after a while. I became a fly on the wall. Sometimes I feel like that with songwriting too and have to get back in touch with my own feelings.

[Read our Harald Walkate interview about Composing for Photos and Making Music Visual]