“This record is based on the idea of leaving. Not so much in a physical sense, but leaving behind the version of yourself that no longer serves you.” 

Behind The Headlights, Austin-based artist Jeremy Nail’s fifth album, finds the singer-songwriter grappling with loneliness – not the self-destructive kind, though; instead, the type that leads one to take stock of their life, re-prioritize and begin to have new experiences. 

Jeremy began recording the album socially distanced, in June of 2020, along with co-producer Pat Manske. “I wanted to make something if only to make myself feel better,” he says.

Jeremy has been based out of Austin since 2005 but has always been surrounded by art of some sort: his hometown, Albany, Texas – population 2,000, situated halfway between Fort Worth and Lubbock – is home of The Old Jail Art Center, an art and regional history museum housed in a former jailhouse building from the 19th century. Jeremy’s uncles, Reilly Nail and Bill Bomar, are its founders. 

Along the way to making this album, Jeremy overcame some well-chronicled setbacks – most notably, a cancer diagnosis in 2012, which eventually led to the amputation of his left leg; the experience was discussed back in 2016 on his album, My Mountain. The album was produced by the legendary Alejandro Escovedo, who Jeremy had planned to tour with before his plans changed. A decade removed from that experience, Jeremy isn’t interested in talking about cancer anymore; it’s not longer a defining factor in his life.  

Behind The Headlights is Jeremy coming to terms with what it means to be in the here and now, and what it is to move forward; how to learn from your past and create a realistic future for yourself. The album’s center point, “Open Door,” chronicles the idea well: “I wanted a quiet arc to this album given its central lyrical themes,” he says. “I love the idea that silence and solitude bear way to a frame of mind. This is one of my favorite tracks I've ever done.” 

It’s obvious, even after a short conversation with Jeremy, that he’s an observer, ready to take in life’s scenery around him and create the subtle kind of on-the-mark observations that can blow you away. Although his music deals with sometimes-difficult subject matter, even a quick listen makes it clear that he’s looking for the silver lining, the bright spot, in all of it. 

He’s said, previously, that his love of music was developed on long stretches of Texas highway, when he had to time and space to take in every note and detail of what he was listening to – that same level of subconscious introspection weaves throughout Behind The Headlights, as he finds his own places to belong and opens spaces up for others to find theirs. 

Behind The Headlights begins with “Man Who Drove Away,” a quiet character study about a man who’s responding to some sort of drama. “For him, the farthest distance away seems to be the safest place but over time that expires,” Jeremy says. “I wanted to portray the internal and external world that leads up to the very moment where a turn of mind could be life-changing.”

“Crimes of the Heart” follows, about the process of letting go and moving forward: “Some people say they’ve lived a life with no regrets, which seems like an impossible standard to me,” he says. “All This Time” is the only pandemic-themed song on the record, but takes a viewpoint one might not expect: “I really enjoyed the solitude of the past couple of years. I wanted this song to have the feel of being somewhere beautiful by yourself, when you let your mind wander.” 

The album’s title track, “Behind the Headlights,” brings the record into a new sonic territory, its layered production chronicling the idea that connection, the idea of being fully seen without judgment, can help lessen some of our internal struggles. 

“Try As I Might,” one of the more poignant tracks on the album, finds Nail coping with a deep loss. “You've done all you could to help that person and it couldn't be done, he says. “My stepdad was a rancher who flew old World War II planes; he struggled with major depression and eventually took his own life. Growing up in West Texas, you’re taught to get tough and deal with things on your own.”

“He had a very hard life, and I thought about my own mental health struggles while reflecting on who he was,” he continues. “He asked me once to write a song about him and I felt like I could finally do that in a way that felt meaningful.”

Mental health is a cause that’s close to Jeremy’s heart – he even contributed a cover of Gram Parsons’ “She” to a Friends of SIMS compilation in 2015, benefitting the Austin-based SIMS Foundation, which provides mental health and substance use recovery services and supports for musicians, music industry professionals, and their dependents.

“Silent War,” with its elegant feel, adds a strings section and piano to the album’s acoustic palette, while “Almost Home” is a part two of sorts. “The same characters who find each other and through various stages create a new life for themselves,” he says. “I imagined the guitar parts in this song as if the Cure were from Texas.”

“Something More” brings 1980s new wave to the forefront, with programmed beats and a synthesizer on the track. It’s about the ever-constant reconciliation with changing cities and what it means to feel like a stranger in the place you call home. 

“Endless Plain” ends the album with a call to be yourself: “It’s ultimately about finding the courage to be yourself and make your own choices,” Nail says. “The overall statement I want my music to make is simple: that you don’t have to be anything else but you.”