On the honey shores of Cape Cod in a beach shack, Courtney Marie Andrews found self-love and her
voice. Every morning, she’d walk 6-8 miles around the back trails of an island and meditate on her life,
perusing old memories and patterns like browsing a used bookshop. That summer of introspection led her
to a joyous sense of beginnings and ends. When she let love for herself in, she therein let the outside love
in, too—the summer feeling, the swaying cypress, the full moon, and the possibility of healthy love. This
phase came only right after one of her darkest, though, where being alone with oneself was the most
terrifying thing you could do. After more than a decade on the road, the Phoenix-born songwriter, poet,
and painter finally had the space to process all the highs and lows of a life of constants. She was finally
ready to make a record of triumph, while not completely forgetting the years that made her.
That record is Loose Future.
After committing to penning a song a day, Courtney found the sounds of summer flowing through her
writing—the romance, and possibility, and the free sounds. Collecting an album’s worth of material, she
tied up some loose ends in Bisbee, Arizona, her “soul place” and beckoned Sam Evian to come and
produce a record. Her guideposts were lots of harmonies and alternative percussion. The rest was pure
exploration. At Flying Cloud Recordings in New York, she dipped in the creek every morning before
proceeding. She wanted to embody the feeling of letting love in. Taking the dip is what letting love in feels
like. Sometimes you plunge, and sometimes you walk slowly in.