The sensational Softie, aka Nicholas Coleman; photographed by Jonathan O’Gaffney.

Artists that operate in myriad fields of varied mediums have the power to shine a light on a multitude of facets from feelings, thoughts, concepts, expressions and so forth. From the visceral presentation of visuals that elicit responses and reactions, working with fashioning the potent prose and poetics of the written word, to statements of sound and other burgeoning new schools of media; the creators of our current era and those of the past alike make indelible impressions on our experiences in the world of arts along with influencing outlooks on other aspects of our lives (both in still life and works in progressive motion). These luminaries paint the portraits that strike lights of intrigue from within the chasms of our consciousness. They are the tunesmiths who shape and ignite the fires of fancy from within. They are the writers and scribes that stoke the flames of our imagination, setting the senses alight with new ideas and illuminations that guide our perspectives toward new and greater intellectual and ecstatic heights.

Disciple and polymath from these multidisciplinary schools of international arts is Nicholas Coleman who recently published a visually stunning zine and launched the anticipated musical outfit under the moniker of Softie. The Oakland by way of Stockton/Lathrop, California creative has been contributing to countless works both solo and collaborative for years with the likes of longtime friends such as (but far from limited to) Justin Paul Vallesteros (Craft Spells), Frankie Soto (Craft Spells), Samuel Regan (Baseball Gregg, Satan Wriders), Logan Wells (MLTD, Confident Hitmakers), Kenneth Yates and countless other visionaries. Discovering an inspired streak during the throes of the pandemic, Coleman has embarked upon the most prolific epoch of their career in the realms of modern arts from collaging together fragments of the modern experience to making some of the most fascinating new sounds this world has ever heard.

Recording under the solo handle as Softie, Nicholas presents the debut Strong Hold EP courtesy of the fledgling QTPOC operated tape label / print publishing house Cherub Dream Records from San Francisco. Delivering one of the year’s best releases at the 11th hour of 2021, the expansive economy of this five track wonder is delivered on a grandiose scale with the mesmerizing might of a full-length album. Operating on a warm analog contingency that permeates the entirety of the EP, Coleman curates an atmosphere of endearment, inward thought zones and warmth that reveal the familiar headspaces that capture the collective emotions and consciousness streams that we have all found ourselves in over the course of these recent years. Strong Hold is about the things in life that grab our attention. The things that consume our beings, minds, bodies and spirits. The things that move us. The things that make us who we are. The things that shape us in new ways, leaning into the ever evolving mercurial processional nature of existentialism as a perpetual ongoing work in progress.

From the psychotropic surreality of our contemporary cluster storm of conflicts, the quiet depressive calm of quarantine and the cults of perpetual chaos comes the fuzzy velvet touched grips of Strong Hold. The Softie trip begins with "Doser", complete with beats like a backpacker kicking a crushed can recalling a barrage of postponed dreams while walking from school down the sidewalk trails, back to the warm protective arms of home. The guitars splash and strum around the double helix of a sturdy baseline and steady backbeat as Coleman sends out hushed distorted vocals that sound like melodically moaned prayers transmitted in the dead of night to an unresponsive deity. The ennui, indolence and isolation of our era can be felt on the time warped beauty of “Schmo”. A song that chisels heavy chords for something that feels candid, calm, bored, yet cool, exemplifying the tenets of slacker core better than Matador Records’ entire catalog oeuvre from the late 90s.

The big blazing slow motion riffs of "Gifts" glisten, grind and churn with a head nodding type of awe and appreciation. The distortion growls and grits its teeth as Nicholas reveals the expressive central melodic chords over muddy blends and blurs of atmospheres that exhibit a rawness like a pop rock symphony delivered from beneath a pile of security blankets. "Gifts" gradually takes off into the oblivion like a cork from a sparkling supernova bottle of Cooks sky-rocketing toward the stars from the asphalt emblazoned earth. The sedated rhythm steps of "Flat:Still" exemplifies the states of stillness and suspended animation that feels like reliving through a microscope some of our most privy moments recalled from the universally detested year of 2020. The chords dearly sing their own song that mixes desire, frustration with a hopeful hymn of eyes gazing with sublime longing out the frame of a window whilst sequestered amid the lockdown. “Can I Be You” bares it all out on the line like a cult college radio hit from yesteryears resurrected with newer and more urgent, serrated edges. The track illustrates the global desire to breakout of ourselves and become someone else, the conundrum of shedding our experience for another’s life and world. Strong Hold celebrates these abstract persons, places and things that have captured the core of our obsessions and curiosity and stands tall in its succinct beauty as one of the year’s best releases.

Bridging new terrain with Nicholas Coleman; photographed by Jonathan O’Gaffney.

During the languid solstice transitions from summer to autumn, we had a chance to catch up with Softie’s Nicholas Coleman about everything from visual and audio arts, creative movements and everything in between:

Autumn meditations, affirmations and aspirations.

Lose the ego.

The origin story of Softie.

I came back to the Bay Area around April 2019, just in time for the strict Covid shutdowns. Softie was created out of a fair amount of boredom coupled with the absence of several distractions. I was able to maintain some consistency with writing and recording for the first time. I had all these songs and I wanted to challenge myself to complete this EP. I was learning how to record throughout the process. I enjoyed getting familiar with the production side of things. I would spend an embarrassing amount of time watching mixing tutorials online.

Nicholas Coleman’s collaged notes from the underground, via the artist’s zine.

From new art visual collages to feverish future frequencies; describe the connections and contrasts between the visual and audio art realms.

Both the zines and recording gave me a sense of creative purpose. Not to be totally corny but they were necessary outlets at the time. I was getting real bummed just sitting idle.

A friend has described the feeling of my music as gray or overcast — it is unconscious, but I see where they're coming from. Both projects were conscious movements away from that. I attempted to bring in more texture and warmth into the two projects.

Blending images, text and vibes via the art of Nicholas Coleman.

Notes from the Oakland to Stockton movements.

I was back and forth throughout childhood, so the movement is fairly regular at this point. Hopefully this is the last move for a while. I’m in my first year of a two-year psychology program. So I'll be here until I graduate at the least. I’m super thankful to my friend Frankie for giving me a place to crash and a job back in 2014/2015. It would have taken me much longer to gain the perspective that I have now without that dude. Being away from Stockton allows me to have a sincere appreciation for the place. I wouldn’t have that if I was still living there. It is cool to go back and visit, catch a show or whatever. The kids are alright in Stockton.

The multidisciplinary montages and creative makings of Nicholas Coleman.

Sparks of inspirations during a turbulent era that informs your creative progressions.

I’m totally inspired by my friends. February 2019, right before the shelter in place orders some Sacramento homies in a band called H.Salt (formally known as Yawzea) played this incredible show at some dive bar out there. I hadn’t been to or played in a year or two. I truly missed playing in a band at that moment. I had the thought that playing could be fun, if I don’t have to compromise anything and make music on my own timeline or with likeminded people. A month later we were totally locked down. So, I didn’t really plan to make this record, the project became a way to cope with the downtime.

Blended creative media courtesy of Nicholas Coleman.

Notes on the art of orchestrating the Softie style, sensibility, sentimentality, state of mind and sound.

I was in a state of isolation, insecurity, boredom and transition. I think most people were feeling the same at the time. I’m sure grief and anger could be included as well. So, recording, making the zines and two-hour walks around UCB were the ways I escaped for a bit. I got to a point where I couldn’t take in any more media. The news cycle had me so fucked up, it was incredibly difficult to give my attention to anything other than schoolwork or recording.

The soft touch of Softie, the latest solo endeavor and offering from Nicholas Coleman; press photo via Bandcamp.

Hopes that are fueling the visions of today and tomorrow.

It feels like we are regaining some normalcy, I hope to continue to make time for this project and put out a full-length record sometime next year. I have a hand full of songs, some totally done, some not. I don’t want to rush and put out something I’m not completely happy with.

Mastering the menagerie of media dujour a la Nicholas Coleman.

Recognition of current artists and activists that are doing great things.

I’ve been blown away by all the smoking-room stuff and Pardoner from SF is really sick. I’m also excited about my friend’s new projects H.Salt and Fitting.

Softie’s Strong Hold is available now with a new tape arriving in early December also via San Francisco’s rising Cherub Dream Records imprint.

Introducing Softie & the art of Nicholas Coleman