Shannon Smith’s ‘Out Of The Shadows‘ arrives like a handwritten letter in a world of fleeting texts, a debut album steeped in the soulful hues of folk-rock, Americana, and soul-pop, with echoes of Chris Stapleton’s grit and Ray LaMontagne’s tender introspection. Its warm acoustic layers and subtle, pulsing rhythms create a space where time seems to soften, where the ceaseless churn of obligations fades into the background.

When you listen to ‘Out Of The Shadows’, literally within a minute you catch yourself noticing your shoulders have dropped. Somewhere deep inside, that constant inner itch of “must” stops. Must stay informed, must reply, must move, grow, react, plan, engage, achieve. Here, it’s simply an album built around a voice and a guitar — and that’s exactly where the real enjoyment starts.

photo by Reilly Stewart

With time, you start choosing ease over effort—even in the music you let into your day. If someone had told me ten years ago that I would genuinely enjoy an album that doesn’t try to be a “great revelation” or a “soundtrack of an era,” I probably would have laughed. But here I am, listening to Shannon Smith’s debut – “Out Of The Shadows” – and realizing: sometimes, this is exactly what you want. Music you can dissolve into, like a cup of morning coffee, without feeling like you urgently need to feel or understand something.

Yes, really. When you look at Shannon Smith – the beard, the confident gaze, everything neat, everything strict – you expect something harsh, piercing, maybe even a bit dark. Some kind of raspy baritone, something along the lines of “I’ve been through storms and now I’ll tell you how to stay afloat.” But when he starts to sing – what flows out is a soft, surprisingly clear tenor. Not just a voice, but a light in the voice. It throws you off. It disarms you. Because you didn’t expect it. Because the appearance says one thing, but the sound is something else entirely. And that’s where it gets interesting: your usual frame of reference no longer works. You don’t know what to expect anymore. Which, in turn, means you’re finally listening.

A Creative Swing That Brings the Magic Back

Interestingly, Shannon Smith decided to hold off on streaming platforms for now, opting instead for CD and vinyl — with Bandcamp as the one place you can still get it digitally. And you know what, I get it. Because when you hold a record in your hands, it’s a completely different feeling than just clicking “play” on Spotify.

photo by Tashi Hall

And this, too, is a part of engagement: when you’re not just listening, but waiting, searching, buying, unpacking the disc, putting it in the player… It’s a whole ritual that makes the music closer, warmer, more real. Even if you end up listening to it in the background, you can feel the difference. Remember how listening to a new album used to look: the search, the anticipation, the purchase, the unwrapping, the first play-and before you know it, you’re already living a small life with it.

Shannon Smith consciously brings this experience back: ‘Out Of The Shadows’ can only be bought on CD or vinyl, and only in these formats are extended versions of certain songs available-they will never appear on streaming services. For Shannon Smith himself, it seems this step is a way to regain control over how people discover his work. I wouldn’t call it “commerce for the sake of commerce”; I see it as a desire to create something real, something that will stay with a person for a long time, rather than dissolve in a stream of disposable tracks. He wants listeners to truly live these songs, to feel their warmth, vulnerability, and hope.

The album consists of 10 tracks, but for me the absolute favorite is “Dance The Night Away (Do Do Do Do)”- 4 minutes of pure, sincere joy and energy. This track opens the album with an infectious, light, and sunny mood, thanks to its lively rhythm and catchy chorus. “Till I’m Home” brings that cozy Americana glow, with layered vocals and a laid-back groove that rolls forward like a golden-hour road trip.

“I’m Gonna Change Here’s” marks the album’s introspective turn. It leans into folk-rock with a sense of redemption. The extended version adds a bit more tension and release. Shannon’s vocals land with honesty, and the production reveals surprising depth — definitely a headphone track if you want to catch all the subtle flourishes. The strings? Perfect touch. This one’s the emotional backbone.

“Feel Good” keeps things upbeat, funky, and yes — a little cheesy, but in the most charming way. “I Do” Written the night before his wedding — so you’re getting undiluted sincerity here. “Light on the Hill“The final track closes the record on a reflective note. Dedicated to his late uncle, it anchors the emotional arc of the album. Starts soft, swells gently, and lands with gratitude and warmth. A quiet exhale at the end of the road. A perfect wrap.

If you’re like me and completely worn out from this endless musical arms race — where every release aims to blast your senses with more volume, more layers, more artificial drama — Out Of The Shadows offers a rare kind of peace. It’s like walking into a warm kitchen on a rainy evening. Shannon Smith sings simply and clearly, with melodies that carry a sense of trust and presence.

You let the record play, and soon the noise of the day fades into the background. The phone stays face down. You pour a drink, light a candle, maybe open a window to feel the night air move through. Whether you’re alone or with someone, this album fills the space with something gentle.

Each song walks at a human pace. You catch the details. You hum along. You feel the warmth without needing to name it. Out Of The Shadows moves with quiet confidence. For a debut, it reaches something many records only hint at. Shannon Smith touches that feeling with care, and that’s enough to keep this one close.

*This review was made possible by SubmitHub