Born out of late-night harmonies, shared voice memos, and a long-standing friendship rooted in mutual admiration, Haley Blais and Sam Lynch have formed the supergroup True Mountain Laurel. Their debut collection of songs, Angel So Bad, is a tender, dust-swept exploration of all the feelings that fall through the cracks. Equal parts folk reverie and country yearning, the project pulls from their respective solo careers. Sam’s poetic introspection and Haley’s razor-sharp lyrical intimacy blend into something softer, stranger, and wholly their own.

There’s a looseness to these songs that feels intentional. Where Sam’s solo work leans cinematic and atmospheric, and Haley’s leans into the clever and orchestral, here they meet in the middle: warm, minimal, and a little bit rough around the edges. Live, the project takes on an even more intimate form without setlists or rigid arrangements. Just two friends singing the truth as they feel it that night.

Influenced by artists like Gillian Welch, Lucinda Williams, and early 2000s Canadian singer-songwriters, the project is less about genre and more about feel. Acoustic guitars, brushed drums, pedal steel, and the occasional jangly piano support lyrics that feel diaristic without being confessional: capturing the ache of growing older, the strangeness of still wanting more, and the joy of finding home in another person’s voice.

For Haley and Sam, this is neither a rebrand nor a pivot. It’s a postcard from two artists returning to the campfire that first called them to sing.

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