Micah Felts – ‘I Don’t Know How to Write a Song’
Photo by Holly Felts
Micah Felts from Tulsa, Oklahoma, explores a deeply human blend of tenderness, reflection and quiet melancholy across his latest body of work, I Don’t Know How to Write a Song. Rooted in intimacy and understatement, the EP navigates themes of love, gratitude, anxiety, and impermanence, often finding beauty in life’s most fragile and fleeting moments.
As soon as the intimate “Silver Lining” begins, you feel like you’ve been invited into a world… one that is deeply melancholic but also hopeful, accepting, and gentle. The songwriting occasionally recalls Noel Gallagher’s gift for vivid, personal imagery, but Micah Felts approaches those themes through a quieter, more introspective lens. There is only craft, care, and attention as he explores envy of freedom, grief, and a profound sense of disconnection. The song is built around the resonant, woody tones of finger-picked acoustic guitar, closely mic’d and cozy, drawing you into a moment, a thought. The acoustic guitar’s rich; sparkling tones are reminiscent of the enchanting sonic gentleness of Donovan’s A Gift from a Flower to a Garden. A gentle push of brushed drums supports warm bass. All the elements work as one… and through those tender textures sits the vocal. There is a bruised wisdom in the delivery. Sensitive and reflective, the performance never reaches for the dramatic but is characterful and human. I especially like the intuitive swells of the grand backing vocals that provide support, almost choir-like, and they glow with a sublime reflective warmth.
That same sense of quiet reflection continues on “Rivers,” where Felts is joined by Callan Brown to create a composition with a sweet, natural melody. The music carries a warmth that burns with a soft, inviting glow. There are no extreme embellishments. It is simply a composition that is aesthetically beautiful and heartfelt. “Rivers” is thoughtfully arranged, from the weighty drums that set a tranquil cadence, surrounding which are the pastoral sounds of acoustic guitar. As the song progresses, these guitar tones flourish into gentle, golden, welcoming sounds. There are similarities here to Scott Matthews and Iron & Wine. It has the same introspective, stripped-down approach, but this is not a lo-fi track; the instruments breathe soothingly. Vocally, Micah Felts and Callan Brown work really well together. Felts delivers his customary soothing performance, and Brown contrasts slightly with a more seasoned tone. Together the performances are evocative. This is a truly captivating meditation on time, mortality, and freedom, written in thoughtful poetic imagery.
“Get To You” is a songwriting collaboration between Micah Felts and Sam Westhoff of the artist project HAFFWAY. The composition oozes class and is memorable… once you know it, it sticks with you. Brimming with compassion and reflective layers. The craftsmanship is evident at every turn, opening with a flowing finger-picked acoustic guitar. Thoughtfully arranged percussion builds slowly, pulling you further into the tender world of this song… and soon we are gently pushed along by a strutting but laid-back drumbeat. Along the way, ear candy flares up in all the right places. Touches of emotive piano, vivid melancholic wails of pedal steel guitar. The vocal is hushed, breathy, and soothing. On the first few plays, you may initially reach for comparisons to The Paper Kites or maybe even Sufjan Stevens. But as this song mellows and seeps under your skin, you may detect a slight John Lennon-esque feel to the songwriting, especially his mid-1970s era. The poetic lyrics that touch on anxiety, emotional overload, and frustration share the same mood, clarity, emotional awareness, and introspection that he captured so well. Beautifully restrained, elegant and warm, this is a stunning song.
Some songs just hit differently, and with “Pink Clouds” we are submerged into a world of calming, restful indie folk. The track has notably landed a sync placement in the CBS television show Sheriff Country, and we can see why. The song serves as a love letter to someone who makes ordinary life feel sacred and special, touching on gratitude and the melancholy that comes with knowing some moments don’t last forever. This is a meditation on impermanence. It features glowing, warm instrumentation and a touching simplicity in its sound. Everything about “Pink Clouds” feels deeply personal, beginning in intimacy and rising into wide-open elegance. You can easily close your eyes and get lost in the understated instrumentation. The type of sound you might find on a Noah Gundersen record, or even Nick Drake. The music is a carefully layered tapestry of acoustic guitar, mellow electric guitars, mellow bass, and a steady beat from the drums. Micah Felts delivers a quietly compelling performance, vulnerable, world-worn, but sweetly sensitive.
Different thoughts come to mind as “Smaller Mountains” drifts from the speakers. The whole song has a pastoral, serene, sun-drenched atmosphere that brings to mind “Mother Nature’s Son” by The Beatles. The glittering interplay of the finger-picked acoustic guitars feels like a cross between Donovan and Fleetwood Mac. But there are also stronger shades of Gregory Alan Isakov, the Hollow Coves, and possibly Simon & Garfunkel shining through. “Smaller Mountains” once again demonstrates the skill and craftsmanship that Micah Felts holds as a crafter of songs. The gorgeous interlocking sounds are understated, glittering in simplicity. Even the dreamlike elements that elevate the composition with majestic, melancholic swells don’t overpower the sentiment of this song. The track is spellbinding… piano rings mellowly, clear and true, while drums gently build anticipation, increasing in strength but not breaking the meditative mood. The vocal is heartfelt and tender, carrying a deep sense of emotion.
Ending it with the title track, “I Don’t Know How to Write a Song” is a simple acoustic ballad that drips with authenticity and was notably the winner of the 2026 Jimmy LaFave Songwriting Contest in Oklahoma. Intimate throughout, it is a folk record lined with beauty and painted with sincerity. It feels like the most personal track on the EP. Micah Felts constructs an atmosphere that is akin to him sitting beside you, sharing something personal. His vocal is reflective and almost conversational, confiding rather than performing. Only briefly is this broken when the vocal rises into a head voice, a move that elegantly tightens the emotional pull. Each line seems to be placed with purpose, and the craftsmanship is exceptional. Surrounding the vocal is sensitive acoustic guitar, while emotional depth and a cinematic, wide intimacy are lent by the harmonic colour of piano and the anchoring foundation of bass. The poetic, gentle, sweetly serene, and meaningful lyrics carry shades of Billy Joel’s songwriting, but are framed within the style of John Vincent III or Novo Amor.
I Don’t Know How To Write A Song is a collection of songs that do not chase spectacle, but instead lean into stillness, memory, and the small details that shape how we feel connected or disconnected from the world around us. It is deeply personal yet universally resonant, with each track written with clear intention. This is a remarkable body of work.