Taylor Hunnicutt makes old-school southern music for the modern world. She’s a proud daughter of Alabama, writing songs that nod to the state’s tradition of country storytelling, rock ‘n’ roll rebellion, and guitar-driven grit. Sharpened by a touring schedule that’s kept her on the road for roughly 200 days a year, she makes her full-length debut with Alabama Sound — an album that unfolds like a love letter to the American South, written by a road warrior who’s spent most of the decade far away from home. “It’s a little country, a little singer/songwriter, a little Americana, and a lot of soulful southern rock,” says Hunnicutt, an opera-trained vocalist who began writing songs after dropping out of music school, landing a waitressing job at a blues juke joint, and sitting in with the bands that came through town. She’s no longer the guest artist, though — she’s the main act, and Alabama Sound showcases her high-energy, hellraising brand of southern stomp, country-rock twang, and amplified attitude.
Jay William Miller
Jay William Miller is an Americana singer-songwriter whose music blends the grit of small-town Idaho with the heart of rock and roll. Born and raised in Boise, Jay picked up a guitar at sixteen and started writing songs shaped by mountains, rivers, and the kind of nights that turn into stories. His sound lives somewhere between heartbreak and high energy—a mix that’s earned him and his band the fitting description, “sad boys that like to party.”
Drawing inspiration from artists like Nathaniel Rateliff, Noah Gundersen, and Willie Nelson, Jay’s songs balance introspection with the unfiltered spirit of the American West. His latest release, Reservoir, dives into the mess of emotion and the moments that keep us human—backed by a band that’s just as ready to rip as they are to feel.
Whether he’s on stage in a packed bar or under open Idaho skies, Jay brings a dynamic performance that’s equal parts rowdy and raw. Follow his journey and keep up with new releases and tour dates on Instagram @therealjaymiller.

