There are albums that, you know, don’t really need explaining — and yet you sit down, open your laptop, set a cup of tea nearby, and start writing about them. Just because you want to. Because there’s something in them that sounds so inviting, so human, you simply want to enjoy it. That’s exactly the case with Even The Dying by Matthew Moore.

When you first start listening, you might think you’re in for something familiar from the folk-country world. But from the very first notes, it becomes clear that Matthew Moore offers a whole spectrum of impressions — from tender and melancholic to bright and even slightly festive. The whole album feels like an unhurried walk down a long country road, where every bump might reveal an unexpected view. And believe me, it really does.

The album has eight tracks, each carrying its own little story. One song holds memories of loss, another — gentle gratitude, a third — the anticipation of something meaningful. Love, acceptance, grief, humility, joy… It seems like Matthew, through these tracks, is having quiet conversations with himself and with the world around him.

Interestingly, the album was created entirely on his own. That decision shows how much freedom means to Matthew Moore in what he does. The modern industry often lays down rules, but here, there’s a clear devotion to a personal vision: the arrangements, vocals, lyrics — everything speaks to a certain kind of independence. Some might call it creative chaos or rebellion, but I see it more as a gentle and thoughtful path of an artist who knows exactly how his universe sounds.

Each of the eight tracks sounds like a standalone story, yet all of them are tied together by a common thread of sincerity — a quality that seems to form the foundation of the entire album. Those in love will appreciate its lyrical softness, while anyone caught in reflection might find solace in lyrics that hint at both sadness and hope. It’s hard to miss how much Matthew Moore values freedom and makes a point of emphasizing it in every detail. Even the song titles, it seems, weren’t chosen for their catchiness but rather for how honestly they reflect the artist’s inner state.

Even The Dying opens gently, almost imperceptibly. The first track sets the tone for the rest of the album. With a light atmosphere and Matthew Moore’s relaxed vocals, it unfolds simple yet striking images of life. The guitar sways softly, and the overall rhythm feels like a stroll through an old town lined with wooden benches and warmed by the glow of vintage lanterns. There’s no overblown emotion — just a genuine desire to share a story.

The Castle carries the magic forward, but here Moore’s voice takes on a subtle new color — a slight rasp that adds a unique charm. Falling in Love Tonight finds Moore leaning more into lyricism. The flowing guitar and gentle bass bring a sense of openness. The blend of instruments, at times merging into one current and then parting again, reveals unexpected nuances in his voice. Angela – This track brings out a classic country flavor that livens up the picture. Small touches — like the female backing vocals — add a certain charm, creating a subtle cinematic effect.

Old Man Lookin’ Back – right in the middle of the album comes a shift: the music grows noticeably more energetic, and the vocals seem to gain extra strength. The arrangement stays simple, preserving the album’s tone — Moore avoids dressing the melody up with unnecessary details, letting the moment remain natural and unfiltered. I’ll Be Home – returns to softer shades of folk-country. It offers that quiet sense of a peaceful evening — the kind where you can just be yourself.

This Is Done – a bright and slightly playful track that immediately gets your head nodding along. The light pop melody blends smoothly with folk-country stylings, making it a track that works with just about any mood. Coming Back to You – the final chord of the album. This song leaves a pleasant aftertaste, holding on to the romantic tone of the record and gently inviting you to hit repeat.

Even The Dying stands out with its unfiltered honesty. There’s no trace of an imposed producer-driven concept — more a quiet musical conversation with a friend. And thanks to the self-produced nature of the album, every instrumental move carries the intimacy of a handwritten line in a journal. The folk-country elements don’t overwhelm with grandeur; instead, they offer a warm backdrop where lyrics about love, self-acceptance, and connection stand out clearly. Even The Dying gives you a moment to pause and hear something genuine, free from excess. With this album, Matthew Moore takes a bold step toward music that’s sincere, kind, and a little vulnerable — and all the more moving for it.

*This review was made possible by SubmitHub