Introducing: AUDIOGUST

After decades away from the studio and deep in the world of software, Seattle’s Chris Evans—aka AUDIOGUST—is back where he belongs: immersed in melody. His new album Here We Go Again is both a creative homecoming and a meditation on the highs and lows of artistic inspiration. With 14 emotionally rich tracks, including the wistful standout “Seattle,” AUDIOGUST blends raw energy with introspective storytelling, reflecting a life lived in both analog riffs and digital code. We caught up with him to talk about second acts, sonic catharsis, and what it means to start again.

After a long break working in the software industry, what inspired you to return to writing and recording music, and how has that journey shaped Here We Go Again?

Even while I was deep in the software world, music was always in the background. I’d jump into a band now and then or do some recording at home, but I couldn’t fully commit to it—mostly because making music at home without a proper setup can drive everyone around you a little crazy. The big turning point was when I built a soundproof studio at home. Suddenly, I had a space where I could focus on all aspects of songwriting, performance, and production without worrying about the noise. Not long after that, I left my last software job and started making music full-time.

My first album, Walk With Me, was about that transition—about stepping back into a part of myself I’d set aside for a while. Here We Go Again picks up from there. It’s about what happens after you’ve made that leap—how inspiration comes and goes when you're creating every day, and how you find ways to keep showing up for it anyway.

The album explores the highs and lows of creativity. Can you talk about a specific moment of inspiration or struggle during the making of these songs?

I actually structured the album to tell a story about inspiration itself—how it arrives, how it disappears, and how we respond to it. The odd-numbered tracks are about the creative process and our relationship with the muse, while the even-numbered ones are like case studies—songs that came out of those moments of inspiration or struggle.

The first track, “Here We Go Again,” was written after one of those classic 3am wake-up calls from my subconscious. I had this idea forming quickly in my head, so I grabbed my phone and started writing it down before it disappeared. The next morning, I realized there was more to it than I first thought—more emotional weight and complexity. The second track, “Bubble In Your Champagne” is the song that came almost fully formed that night.

But they don’t all arrive like that. “Unspoken,” for instance, was a slow burn. I had the chorus early on, and I knew I loved the idea—that some things are better left unspoken—but it took months of rewriting to get the verses and structure to match the emotional tone. That kind of persistence is just as much a part of creativity as the sudden bursts of inspiration.

Your track "Seattle" is described as a love letter to your hometown. How does the city influence your music and your sense of identity as an artist?

The grunge music that came out of Seattle in the ’90s was definitely a big influence. Even though I wasn’t living here at the time, that sound shaped a lot of what I love about music—raw emotion, power, and honesty. But it goes deeper than just the scene. Seattle has a quiet kind of creative energy. It’s laid-back on the surface, but always buzzing underneath, like something brilliant could emerge at any moment.

There’s also a natural tension here—the beauty of the mountains and water set against the gray, moody skies. That mix of inspiration and introspection really resonates with me. It seeps into the tone of my writing, even when I’m not consciously trying to reference the city. "Seattle" is a personal song about coming home to a place I love, but it’s also about wanting to share the things that make Seattle so special.

Your sound blends elements from ’80s power pop to early 2000s alt-rock — which artists or albums were pivotal in developing your style?

Before anything else, I’m drawn to the rhythmic elements of a song. A great drum part or some unexpected rhythmic syncopation in a melody or bass line will always grab my attention first. Growing up, bands like The Police, U2, and Level 42 from the ’80s were huge for me—they all had groove and depth in their arrangements.

Later on, albums like Before These Crowded Streets by Dave Matthews Band and pretty much everything by Paramore or Motion City Soundtrack were in heavy rotation for me. The drumming on those records is outstanding and that’s what initially hooked me. But as I listened more, I got pulled into the songwriting and the production choices behind it all. That mix of rhythmic complexity, melodic emotion, and tight production has been a big influence on how my own sound has developed.

You’ve collaborated with artists worldwide. How have these collaborations influenced your creative process on Here We Go Again?

Collaboration is a big part of how I grow as a writer and producer. Every time I work with someone new, I pick up something—whether it’s how they approach a melody, their way of shaping lyrics, or just a fresh perspective on structure or genre. Sometimes we end up working in a style that’s outside my comfort zone, and later I’ll carry pieces of that into my own writing. Those moments keep me evolving.

I’ve also been fortunate to have mentors with deep experience in the industry. I talk regularly with Paul Statham, who’s worked with Simple Minds, Dido, and Peter Murphy. He’s got an incredible ear and will often point out parts of a song that could be stronger. He’s usually right, so I’ve learned to listen closely and use that feedback to push things further.

“How You Been?” was co-written with Liz Rodrigues, who’s written for artists like Celine Dion and Eminem. It was fascinating to see how she approaches vocal phrasing and lyric structure—especially since the chorus is pretty fast-paced. We spent a lot of time refining it so the words would land cleanly without losing the message.

And one of the most special moments on the album was asking Liliana Tani to sing on “Dead to Me,” which is written from the muse’s point of view. Her vocal performance brought so much emotional clarity to the track—it became something much more powerful than it was when I first wrote it.