Sunny War is on the phone, and there’s a long pause. It’s not unexpected—not even awkward at this point. Pauses are more common than flowing conversation with the experimental singer-songwriter.
But this pause is different. This time, War’s answering a question about her mental health, and the pause is alarming. So, too, is her eventual answer. “I think I’m okay. But probably not. I’m not going to kill myself or anything,” she says. Then she makes her decision: “I’m okay.”
War, who will play a solo show at The Front Porch on February 16, has been public about contemplating suicide in the past, specifically while she was working on her latest album, Anarchist Gospel, released in early 2023. She says songwriting has been an outlet that’s helped her through hardships over the years, including a terrifying teenage battle with methamphetamine and heroin addiction.
“I just write about whatever I’m thinking about at the time, I guess,” War says in her soft, halting way. “They are kind of like little therapy sessions for me. I guess if there is anything uplifting in them, it’s because I am trying to find something uplifting for myself.”
There is indeed something uplifting, even empowering, in War’s songs. And after more than two decades of songwriting experience—she says she’s been at it since she was little more than 7 years old—the eclectic guitarist and vocalist is drawing national attention to her unique blend of folk, blues, gospel, and punk rock. Rolling Stone called her “one of the best new voices in roots music” after Anarchist Gospel’s release; an L.A. Weekly critic said he hadn’t “heard a young guitarist this dexterous and ass-kicking in eons.”
War’s songs have their share of sadness, for certain. She calls the famously melancholic Elliott Smith, who died in 2003, one of her primary influences, and says she wrote Anarchist Gospel’s “I Got No Fight” to battle back suicidal thoughts.
But when the Nashville native and current Chattanooga resident plays Charlottesville, listeners will hear more than just another singer-songwriter fighting depression. They’ll hear soaring, hopeful numbers. They’ll hear driving, confident takedowns of associates gone by, ethereal explorations of what it means to be human.
They’ll also hear a style of guitar play so unique it can only have come about by the joyous happenstance of youth. According to War, after phases in which she was obsessed with blues rock and then ’70s and ’80s punk, she started listening to Dave Rawlings and Gillian Welch. It was 2001, the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou? had planted roots music back in the national zeitgeist, and War’s parents brought home Welch’s Time (The Revelator). The young guitar player was entranced by the album’s string parts. She wanted to emulate them.
“I didn’t really realize there were two people playing, so I was trying to play both of their parts,” she says. “That ended up being the foundation of my style.”
As War matured, she studied that two-part style intently. She self-released her first full-length album, Worthless, in 2015. She really began to find her voice on 2018’s With the Sun, followed it up with Shell of a Girl the next year, and won acclaim for 2021’s Simple Syrup, all three of which were distributed by Hen House Records.
Prior to launching Anarchist Gospel, War moved back to Nashville from Los Angeles and signed to New West Records. She teamed up with producer Andrija Tokic, who’s worked with Alabama Shakes and Langhorne Slim, among others. Together, they solicited abundant guest vocals by some of War’s idols (Rawlings), friends (Allison Russell), and collaborators (Chris Pierce)—not to mention My Morning Jacket frontman Jim James.
Despite Anarchist Gospel’s vocals-heavy vibe, War considers herself a music writer first. Fitting the meter of a song to existing lyrics, she says, rarely works. “It’s all about rhythm, how many words you can get in ‘this’ amount of time,” she says. “But I also need it to be symmetrical—songs are symmetrical—and even.” Indeed, War says she never wanted to be a singer. As a 7-year-old, playing guitar was her singular obsession.
Wrapping production on Anarchist Gospel, War got bad news. Her brother called and told her the siblings’ father was dying. She went to Chattanooga, driven by Tokic himself, to be with her dad in his final days.
Now, just over a year after releasing her latest LP, War guesses she’s played more than 200 shows. She says she’s exhausted. How does she get over the exhaustion and find inspiration to keep going? “I don’t,” she says.
Still, War has reason to look ahead, with two projects in her sights. In April, she’ll be featured on My Black Country: The Songs of Alice Randall, alongside Rhiannon Giddens, Adia Victoria, and others. And by that time, War says she’ll hopefully have been working on another full-length record for about a month.
If you or anyone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts or a mental health crisis, please call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. It is free, confidential, and available 24/7.