The Barn Concerts: Why I’m Here
I could tell the story of why I quit music, social media, and moved my family to a farm a hundred times and give a different reason every time. There is no one “why.” Honestly, there are probably some “whys” I’m not even aware of yet. It was instinct, conviction—the Holy Spirit.
But I can say this: I wasn’t “taking a break.” Taking a break means setting something aside to pick up later. I didn’t set music aside—I buried it. It was dead and gone. I had grieved it, said my goodbyes, and made peace with closing that chapter.
But this story isn’t about death. It’s about resurrection.
In 2024, more than seven years after I laid it all down, something stirred. Again, it wasn’t one thing—it was an alchemy of many things. It was time. Without warning or intention, I wrote a song. At first, I thought I’d just keep it to myself. Writing again after so long felt like an old friend I thought I’d lost forever showing up at my door.
I had let the business of music take the love of music away from me once before. Sharing my songs again felt like doing the same thing as before but expecting a different outcome—insanity. But another voice in my head whispered: A good thing only becomes better when you share it.
I believe that’s why God created Adam—for Himself, but also to share the goodness of His creation. And I think that’s why He created Eve—for Adam, so that Adam could know the joy of looking at something beautiful and saying, It is good—and hearing someone else say it back.
That thought won inside of me, and I decided to trust. To share again.
Finding a Way to Have It All
One of the many reasons I left music was to build a life with my family. I walked away from a different stage in a different city every night so I could have a permanent seat at the dinner table with my wife and kids. And now, even though music has returned to my life, my conviction hasn’t wavered—I am not a touring musician. I am a husband and father first. But I also write songs and share them because connection matters.
For years, those two things felt mutually exclusive. But today, they don’t have to be.
Now, with the click of a button, I can write a song, record it, and share it with anyone in the world—all from my farm. Over the past year, I’ve been writing and connecting with thousands of people without missing a single family dinner. What a time to be alive.
But we all know that an online connection, while miraculous, isn’t the same as being in a room together. I was talking with Meg one night about what I missed about touring. It wasn’t the business. It wasn’t the industry. It was those little moments scattered throughout my life where music created real connections—where a song opened a door to a friendship.
Some of my closest friends are proof of this. Shoot, I wouldn’t have met my wife if I hadn’t said yes to that tiny gig in Ohio.
Music has made my life abundant beyond anything I ever dreamed.
And when I walked away from it, I cut myself off from those kinds of connections.
I told Meg I wished there was a way to have it all: a safe, consistent home for my family, the ability to share music and connect with people through social media, and the chance to play live again—but without any of those things taking from the others. She pulled out her phone, looked at our family calendar, and said, What if we invite people to the barn?
That night, I announced ticket sales for my first-ever barn concert. It sold out in minutes.
People traveled from all over the country. They drove across states. They booked flights, hotels, rental cars—and they showed up in my barn for my first full live concert in nearly a decade.
That night was real. The stories. The conversations. The love. The feeling of being reunited with what I love most about music—connection.
I instantly wanted to do it again. So we did.
Just a few nights ago, once again, people traveled from all over the country to join me and my family in our barn, to connect over music and stories.
A Different Kind of Success
I’m not trying to grow these barn concerts into some big event. I’m not trying to do what most artists are trying to do. I have no desire to chase the industry, make records, or tour the way success is usually defined.
My idea of success is being here—on my farm, raising my kids alongside my wife. Writing songs because it’s how I process the world. Sharing them because it is not good for man to be alone.
I reach out to share because I believe we are connected—through the ups and downs, the heartbreak and the beauty, the suffering and the joy. We are blessed to be here at the same time, experiencing life together. I say, it is good, and you say it back, and we both know—it is.
Starting Over
I spent the first part of my life building a career and an audience. But attention spans are short. People move on.
Think about your favorite songs from ten years ago. Are those artists still around? Maybe. But they’re almost certainly not at the top anymore. Now imagine if that artist disappeared entirely. The world would move on. There’s always another song, another artist, another “right now” to replace yesterday’s “has been.”
My last record was twelve years ago. My last show—nearly eight years ago.
While my peers spent the last decade growing their careers, I’ve been growing food. I’ve been building a barn, a house, and a life with my family.
And now, when it comes to music, I am starting over.
That’s why it means so much to me that so many of you have welcomed me back like I was never gone. Your engagement with my posts feels like a giant hug. Your presence at my barn concerts fills my heart and makes me want to keep going.
If I could wave a magic wand, it wouldn’t be to play for 10,000 people in an arena. If you told me I could do that tonight or play ten barn concerts this year for 100 people each—I’d choose the barn.
I hope I can continue to grow—not for vanity, but to find the people who are looking for this kind of connection. To build a community.
Most artists connect with new people through radio, streaming playlists, and touring. I’m not pursuing any of those things.
So the only way I can reach the people who would love this—who would find something real and meaningful here—is through social media.
And if you’ve read this far, you’re one of them.
Thank you for being here.
-Warren
