For Brandyn Burnette, music is his comfort food. Hailing from St.Louis (really, but not really) with love and a God-fearing family, Brandyn’s life has seemingly been one prolonged wager on faith. His love for music was spurred by a moment of isolation and self-discovery after relocating to a new home for the umpteenth time. “Instead of hanging out with friends or being on the soccer team, I would be posted up in my room, writing,” he shares with me over Zoom.

A big influence behind Brandyn’s artistic pursuits stem from his experience at church camp. Long before the accomplished songwriter had his run-in with addiction, thematically speaking, Brandyn was moved by the power of worship. Who could’ve known that hearing ‘The Scientist’ by Coldplay would push him to dream beyond natural sound. “The church scene really opened my eyes to what music can be for people,” he admits while we revisit one of his many aha moments.

Since then, a string of feel-good singles and impressive co-writer credits have opened Brandyn’s eyes to see what his words can do for people: inspire and uplift. Even during what was considered a low point in his life, Brandyn powered through the discomfort of momentary joblessness in an effort to be present and attentive for two grieving fans. 

His song’s are filled with gripping melodies and sweeping emotion. With a faith-driven approach to help champion his claim to fame, Brandyn is quietly becoming everything that he’s sought out to be: a man of purpose, moving to the beat of his own drum. 

Brandyn’s upcoming EP F.A.T.E (From Anxiety to Euphoria) is slated to be his first independent release in five years. Sonically, he’s evolving as an artist right before our eyes, flirting with an experimental soundscape that’s like a hybrid of alternative R&B and pop. While he remains optimistic about the future despite the unknowing, one thing is for certain: Brandyn gon’ keep his faith. 

Talk to me about your life in St.Louis growing up.

To be honest, it was amazing in a lot of ways. I’m mixed-race, my dad is Jamaican, mom’s white. And it wasn’t bad, but there’s a divide in St. Louis. We had a lot of people who were conservative with Southern vibes and where I grew up, my town, it’s the hood. Most of the kids in my school were mixed-race, but I was surrounded by private schools, everybody played baseball, it was wild. I felt like Missouri, in a weird way, when I left and I look back, with politics and everything, the way my state has voted, it was not chill growing up. I got into a lot of stupid fights , me and my siblings, because of the color of our skin. That’s not ideal growing up anywhere. But I will say with music, St.Louis is known for blues, jazz and all that – and we had Nelly, the St.Lunatics – so there’s a culture there, there’s a soul. 

Musically, what was your aha moment? When did you first realize your love for music was a forever thing? I read that church played a big role in finding your musical identity early on.

I started playing the piano when I was seven. I wasn’t born in St.Louis. My family moved there when I was 10 and it was this awkward period where I didn’t know people. I didn’t have tons of friends so I just turned to music and started writing songs. Instead of hanging out with friends or being on the soccer team, I would be posted up in my room, writing. I think it took hold before the church experience, because I was already involved in music. I remember watching drummers, guitarists and piano players closing their eyes and feeling the music. I was watching people crying, smiling and enjoying themselves. That’s where I kind of realized that when you’re doing music, you can be an entertainer or you can use it as therapy, or both. What I realized from St.Louis is that it’s not about entertainment, it’s about uplifting, healing and positivity. The church scene really opened my eyes to what music can be for people. My family, we were always in church; I did Sunday school and all that. But we’re very open-minded. We all feel this way; religion is one thing, spiritually, that’s different. My parents always put that seed inside of me where it’s like they want me to love God, but they want me to find my own relationship with God. And I thought that was such an amazing thing to say to me because it’s such a tricky subject. 

Take me back to your first professional recording session. What was that experience like?

I was at NYU (New York University) and I met this kid, he was studying production at Clyde Davis, it’s this music school at NYU. We met at a party over some weed and we just kicked it off. Not to date myself, but I had a MySpace profile at the time and he was like, “Yo, I’m at the recording music program. We actually have to find an artist and produce them for our first project.” He asked me if I would be down, but at the time, all I had on MySpace was videos of me singing on a piano. I never recorded myself. I never put drums to a song. He was like, “ I’ma book out a studio, we’re gonna choose a song, I’ma get a guitarist to come in, we’re going to have a mixing board and we’ll do it.” I was intimidated because all I did was play instruments and know how to sing, now I’m in a recording studio on somebody’s budget. It was pressure in a way, but the great part about it is that I already had the song done. I didn’t have to go to the studio to write it, which would’ve been super pressured. I learned a lot about myself that day. First off, I hated how I sounded on the mic. It was just weird to break that barrier of things I’ve never done before. I’ve never sung and heard myself back. I’ve always played piano but I never tracked myself until it clicked. I had so much fun in that experience. Shortly after that, there was a talent show and my friend convinced me to perform. We performed the song we created and actually won, so it kind of paired in because that was the aha moment where it’s like yo, I can really do this shit, holy fuck.

When did you start gaining traction as a co-writer within the music industry? 

I did my first deal when I was 21. I signed with Warner and moved out to L.A., left New York. My A&R at the time, the person who signed me, she was a judge on American Idol. She had a big index of people for me to collaborate with when I got signed. She called me up and was like, “Just so you know, I’m bringing you out to L.A. and you’re probably not going to release anything for two years. You’re just going to work on writing and work on your craft.” Obviously that was difficult, especially with being a newly signed artist. But for me, it was challenging, because outside of my homie from NYU, I’ve never gone into the studio with another writer and went through that whole process of trying to make a hit. I was so young but I learned a lot during that moment. A lot of my voice in songs that I was writing, it wasn’t my artistry. It was just like I was tryna figure out how to write a good song. As a result of that, a lot of my first cuts that came out on other artists were songs I thought I wanted to release for myself, but the label wasn’t jumping, they weren’t putting ‘em out. A manager would hear a song and be like, “Yo, my artist would sound good on this. You wanna try it?” And I was so new to it, so it’s like I just fell into songwriting by accident [laughs]. Out of that process, I was writing everything for me but still finding my way. All those songs that came out on other people weren’t for me, but they were dope songs. 

With being shelved for two-years and forced to focus on your pen, do you feel more equipped as an artist today? 

1,000 percent man. My deal ended up lasting five years with Warner and we only dropped one single. I went from turning 21 to turning 25 with one song out in the world and I was upset about that. It’s like five years goes by. Especially with being an independent artist now and having control, being able to release things when I want, how I want – it was definitely frustrating to make a bunch of music and have no one pull that trigger to put anything out. But if I had dropped some of the songs that I had wanted to back then, shit was wack [laughs]. I’m not a Charlie Puth. No offense to Charlie Puth by any means, I’m just not that type of artist where you can manufacture something or I’m playing to young girl audiences. It definitely gave me time to figure out my voice, figure out my sound. I started producing, which is a huge component to my stuff, being able to also create music, not just sing it. I’m grateful that it worked out the way it did. 

With playing a part in other people’s success as a co-writer, what lessons have you learned from being a trusted collaborator?

My approach to music shouldn’t shift whether I’m working on something for me or making a song for someone else. You feel like you have to put on a different hat, but the thing that I learned is being honest and being an artist, which is what I am. My best songs come when I can relate to it. It might be for a girl, a female artist, but I’m still trying to write something that I’ve been through. That’s helped me so much, writing songs and coming from that place where I try to connect with what I’m doing. I have friends who are songwriters that hate what they do sometimes because they’re working with a horrible artist or working on EDM shit. For me, yeah it might be EDM, it might be pop, soul or something like that, but I wanna feel good, I wanna connect as I’m making it. As a result, as an artist, I’m not singing it, I’m not releasing it, but my contributions come from a real place. 

Your most recent single “Addicted” is very high-spirited and in the moment. What was your headspace like with crafting this song?

That song is so crazy, it’s one of the first songs I wrote about my girl now. I was depressed bro, I was going through a six-year relationship that was ending. I made music with my ex, we toured together, we had all of the same friends, the way it ended was really bad. Her dad passed away, we got off with each other, I wanted to move on, it was hard. I was coming out of a bad place. Then, I’m single for about eight or nine months – I’m partying and having fun – and then I meet this girl. She’s gorgeous, she’s a vibe and we just clicked. There was something about her where my heart was screaming slow down. When I got into the studio to make “Addicted”, I was just in a good headspace. After going through a breakup and you’re writing a bunch of sad shit and then you meet somebody and you’re feeling a bunch of good shit, I was ready to make some positive music. I heard the guitar progression, and back in the day, there was this alternative song that came to mind and I’ve always wanted to make a song where I was flipping that. I just met my girl and she knew what I was coming out of, so she was testing me a lil’ bit. The song came out super quick. A lot of my songs come out in 30-minutes: I’m not even thinking about what to call it or where it’s going, I’m just tryna write. It was one of those happy days where I think I’ve fallen for this girl but I know I’m a piece of shit right now because I’m not ready to give my heart to someone but I’m still gonna try [laughs].

Who do you make music for?

I make music for the emotional kid. Somebody who wants to listen to positive music but also that sad pocket of hits. I have this one fan, she’s a 40-year-old chick from the Netherlands; she has 2 kids, a husband, but she’s so passionate about supporting me. I have to develop a careful relationship with my fans because I want to be there for them and talk to them, but the ones that have been close in my life, they always reach out to me when they’re going through something hard. I’ll get on FaceTime (FT) or I’ll get on Skype and it’s a real emotional conversation. If I was Charlie Puth right, I think I’d get on Skype and some girl would be like 13 and excited to hear me sing and just look at my hair curls, but when I get on Skype or FT with my fans, they wanna talk about life. They really wanna talk about important stuff that matters and it’s interesting. I don’t know all of my fans, but the ones that are my “core fans,” it’s a different type of vibe. It’s not like they’re fangirling over me, they’re really interested in my perspective or healing with my music. Even for the fun songs that aren’t super deep or saddening, they’re studying it or really trying to figure me out. 

Throughout your career as an artist, have you ever experienced a moment of uncertainty? If so, how did you get past that?

Sometimes, like now, life is going good, but I’m still not where I wanna be and that can be so frustrating. I think the reason why I’m still going is because music is therapy and I don’t wanna be selfish about it. Obviously, you put it out into the world, it’s for other people and you’re giving something back, but if the numbers, success, the fame and tours is what was driving me, there would be no way. It’s hard to break through. The thing that drives me is I need to create, I need to express myself, I need to learn about myself. For example, I was signed with Warner for five years then I got that call from my manager about being dropped. I was with my ex, we had just started dating. Warner was paying for my rent, so it’s like what the fuck am I going to do about money. This was my shot. I was on a label, everybody was so excited, and it’s like now I’m an independent artist again. I was doing this thing called “Brand-fam Friday’s” and it was Friday when I got dropped. I was selecting two fans to talk to every Friday on Skype. I’d play them songs, I’d be super happy and everything, but this Friday in particular was different. I got on Skype, and obviously I’m not going to tell some 17, 18-year-old kid I just got dropped and pour out my life, I’m not that type of dude. I was sad, but the two fans were both sad too. I expected them to be excited to talk to me but they were really down, so I asked them what’s going on. And they told me their friend committed suicide in school. It was crazy because the fact that I had just got dropped left my brain immediately. I didn’t know what to say to these kids. I was very careful with my words. We ended up getting off Skype and I was so compelled that I felt like I needed to write them a song, but I was depressed — it’s like why am I writing a song if I had no label to drop it? But I felt like I had to, and it helped me understand something about loss and helped them understand something about loss, and that’s what kept me going, that connection. I don’t need a label or a million people fucking with a song. I wrote it for two specific people. The fact that it could get bigger and more people like it is icing on the cake, but that moment was so powerful for me. That moment made me realize I was put on this earth to be a voice and uplift. It doesn’t matter if it’s a voice for 5, 500, 5,000 or 5 million people. 

What role has faith played in your journey as an artist? 

Sometimes it goes away and you have to find it again. I feel like the best answer I can give to this is when I go through something bad – say for example if I have a fight with my girl – she’s screaming at me, she’s telling me fuck you etc., you think it’s the end of the world. You don’t wanna have those moments, but when those moments happen, maybe I’ll go to the studio the next day and I try to process it through my songs. I hate to say it, and my therapist even tells me don’t associate bad things with becoming a good thing, but it’s like I go through something bad and I come out of that shit thinking thank God it happened. Not only do I come out with a fire song, but I’m learning about the shit. I think faith has changed my relationship with the things that have happened in my life when they’re bad. Another example, my mom and dad split up when I was young. My dad’s Jamaican, they met in the Air Force. He used to beat up on her. It was super bad, he cheated on her. They split up when I was two. Some kid growing up might be like damn, I don’t know my dad and have a lot of anger or resentment, but then my mom met my stepdad when I was four, and my stepdad is a recording artist. He was on Capitol Records, he was on Soul Train, he singed. My first memories were watching him in the studio singing. I already had music in my lineage but that thing that could’ve been so bad turned into something where it’s like thank God I got handed those cards. And that’s what faith is for me, no matter what happens, good or bad, there’s something that can be learned from it. It’s hard to say that sometimes, but you learn how to build resilience and persevere when something doesn’t go your way.