John Mark Nelson

Two months after his high school graduation, John Mark Nelson jumped to the top of Minneapolis' folk-pop scene with 2012's Waiting and Waiting, a homemade album that split the difference between Nick Drake's quiet, stripped-back acoustics and Andrew Bird's orchestral sweep. Two years later, he's ready to make a bigger splash with Sings the Moon, the most detailed, collaborative album of his young career. Only 19 years old, Nelson sings with a slow-smoked croon that belies his age, and he fills his lyrics with sharp, detailed observations of life and love in the Midwest. He's racked up an impressive list of accolades, too, gaining the support of local DJs at 89.3 The Current (who've spun several of his songs into regular rotation) and local musicians like indie-pop songwriter Jeremy Messersmith (who makes an appearance on Sings the Moon). Members of Prince and Andrew Bird's touring bands also appear on Sings the Moon, but Nelson is still the undisputed captain of this ship, steering his crew between intimate folk ballads and peppy, woodsy rave-ups with ease. "We recorded in a very unique and experimental way," says Nelson, who co-produced the album with Matt Patrick. "We would drop buckets of bolts for percussion, record guitars through walkie-talkies, and capture my voice through old, boxy guitar amps." They also reached out to members of Nelson's 10-piece live band. Nelson played each instrument on Waiting and Waiting, looking to cut costs by doing everything himself. Sings the Moon is a different beast, laced with everything from woodwinds and strings to thick, harmonized bursts of background vocals. The songs were tracked live, and the energy is palpable. You can feel it the minor-key strut of "The Moon and the Stars," where an accordion and upright piano drive the full band forward. You can hear it in "Cigarettes & Postage Stamps," a slow-burning ballad that builds itself up to a careful crescendo. At the root of the music, though, is Nelson's acoustic guitar and baritone vocals, which give even the most ornate songs a simple, folky anchor. Warm and welcoming, Sings the Moon conjures up images of a winter's night spent inside a cabin, with a fire in the hearth and a soft song on the radio. Nelson, who fills the songs with autobiographical memories of his past and imagined events of his possible future, calls it "the soundtrack to a single human life." For this folk-pop songwriter, though, the soundtrack is just beginning.