ROARING FORK BROADCASTING COMPANY
At 23, country singer-songwriter Wyatt Flores is one of the fastest-rising stars in music today. He takes the stage at Belly Up Aspen, capacity 450, on Wednesday.
He recently told a media outlet, “My dream is to one day sell out Red Rocks Amphitheater (capacity 9,500).” Looking at his current career trajectory, by next summer that dream could become reality; that is, unless larger venues like Fiddlers Green (capacity 17,000) and Empower Field at Mile High (capacity 76,000) come calling.
Wednesday night’s show truly offers live music aficionados an opportunity to ride on the back of a shooting star — it could end up being a true “I saw Wyatt Flores when …” moment.
Flores may be the first acclaimed Gen Z artist to have been significantly influenced by the music of the recent breed of country singer-songwriters like Sturgill Simpson, Chris Stapleton, Jason Isbell and Tyler Childers. These artists play in a stripped-down style that focuses on the craft of songwriting, in which lyrical depth and raw emotion outweigh pop hooks and glitzy production. One could say he’s more Townes Van Zandt than Tim McGraw.
Flores’ songs are characterized by melodic acoustic guitars, simple arrangements, gritty vocals and lyrics that bely his youth. His songs are raw and introspective, tackling themes like addiction, love and redemption. TikTok and Instagram are online venues for his solo, acoustic performances that have connected with a young audience looking for something real. But several of Flores’ songs have made Spotify’s editorial playlists and thanks to the streaming service’s algorithm, his songs have found their way into the ears of fans of all ages.
His Oklahoma twang is as charming as his laugh, which he generously shares with fans when he tells stories.
“I talk about my feelings,” Flores said in a recent interview with the Aspen Daily News. “I take my heart, and I set it on the stage when I open up about what's going on in my life in front of thousands of people and on social media as well. And they have the opportunity to take it and give it to themselves, or they have the opportunity to rip my heart apart even more.
“It's up to them. I'm just setting an example to be able to talk to someone.”
The native of Stillwater, Oklahoma, is the son of a welder who also is a drummer. He got introduced to music the old-fashioned way, around a campfire.
“I grew up going camping in the summertime,” he said. “My uncle was a guitar player and we’d sit around the campfire listening to old cowboys and hear their stories and listen to them play music, and sing along. A friend of my dad’s is a fellah named Scotte Lester, he is the guitar player and singer in a band called The Great Divide. He said to me, ‘Kid, sing like you got a pair.’ I squawked and squealed for years, man I still do.”
Flores got serious about music when he was 13, and by 16 he was good enough to start playing gigs.
“I was still playing and singing at little get-togethers, or whatever was going down. I'd carry my guitar with me and play to anyone that wanted to listen,” Flores said. “By the time that COVID ended I wanted to play shows in bars and I remember the week before I was supposed to play my first-ever show, someone said, ‘Hey man, you might want to try and have some originals in your set.’ I was like, ‘Yeah, I guess I probably should try and have some.’ That was kind of the turning point and I started writing songs and they started pouring out.”
Flores began releasing singles in 2022. The song “Losing Sleep” was a harbinger of things to come. Backed by acoustic guitar, piano and drums, he sings about a time “back when we were kids.”
“I've been losing sleep like a man loses time, reminiscing over memories, about to lose my damn mind. And my past flows like water, I wish I could build a dam, maybe then I wouldn’t think about you and how you have been.”
Flores could seemingly harness memories that never happened, or at least hadn’t happened yet. The first song he ever wrote was called “Travelin’ Kid” and he hadn't done any traveling yet.
He said the 10th song he ever wrote was “Please Don’t Go,” a song that would change the trajectory not only of his career but his entire life. It’s written from the perspective of someone trying to keep a loved one from taking their life. After its release, he recorded a video of himself talking about its meaning and the song blew up on social media.
Tragically, life imitated art when his grandfather took his own life in August 2023 just as Flores' career was hitting high gear. Then, just a month later, a 13-year-old girl in Mississippi took her own life — and the last thing she posted on TikTok was of her singing “Please Don’t Go.” The story of her death received national attention.
“I didn’t write ‘Please Don’t Go’ thinking this song is going to change the world,” Flores said. “I wrote it because of the mental health problems I was going through in 2021 with the girl that I loved at that time. She was struggling. We both were. I was scared to lose her.”
Flores has battled anxiety for some time. There is no instructional manual on how to process the real-world pain of losing your grandfather to suicide — followed shortly thereafter by the news of a 13-year-old girl ending her life after singing your song (about suicide) on social media. (Flores also lost a friend to suicide when he has in middle school.)
“Please Don’t Go” had amassed over 100 million streams on Spotify. While Flores’ career was “blowing up” (his words), his life was becoming unmanageable.
“I was turning into something that I didn't want to be and someone who I'm not,” Flores said. “We were driving four hours after the show, waking up and driving another six, not sleeping, not eating. I was overstressed and then you turn to other things to try and fill yourself with distractions. And next thing you know, you wake up one day when you slow down and you realize that you don't remember a lot of things, cause it's all turned into a blur. I had to take a step back.”
Flores broke down on stage in Kansas City in February, telling the audience, “This is the only thing I’ve ever cared about and for some reason I can’t figure out why I don’t feel a thing.” The next day, his management canceled the rest of his tour and Flores sought help from a facility outside Nashville that deals with emotional health issues like PTSD, anxiety and trauma.
“They pretty much opened up my entire brain and the things that were going on with my feelings,” Flores said. “I came out of that and went home for a week to work cattle and just did all sorts of stuff there, kept my hands busy, and then I came back to it slowly and gradually and went straight to the studio and started recording an album.”
That album became the EP “Half Life,” released in April. Several songs have gotten over 10 million streams in a few short months. In the song “Devil,” Flores addresses loneliness as if it were a person singing, “I’m your angel and you’re my devil.” He told an audience recently, “If anyone was ever wondering what goes on through my head, this is the song.”
Flores will never stop laying his soul bare in his songs, but he has had to create some distance between himself and his fans, which goes against his instincts in finding success in the age of social media — especially when TikTok and Instagram have helped him break through as an artist. He needed to let the songs do the speaking for him.
“We get [DM messages from fans] every day of just them sharing their stories,” Flores said. “And I appreciate them telling their story but what I had to learn is I can’t take that burden with me, I can’t save someone. I wish that I could and I’m hoping that this music will at least give them the motivation to keep pushing through. But I can't take their weight because I'm still working on my own.
“I care, I have empathy for people, and I know what it feels like to be in the darkest of places, but I can’t save anyone else’s life if I'm dead.”
Editor’s note: There are abundant resources for those who are in despair and considering self-harm, including Aspen Hope Center’s hopeline, 970-925-5858, and the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, 800-273-8255. Visit SpeakingOfSuicide.com for a list of additional resources.