ABOUT

When you visit the American South, you’ll hear the word “kinfolk” thrown around in conversation without a second thought. The term encompasses blood-related family members—no matter how distant—but it also goes beyond blood.  Your “kin” can be those close friends whose relationship might as well be familial. For Southall, that idea extends to their fervent fanbase.  

Founded by vocalist, guitarist, and songwriter Read Southall, the PLATINUM-certified Country Rock outfit churns out the kinds of tunes that make everyone feel like family on their fifth full-length LP, Kinfolk [Smoklahoma Records]. The group unites dyed-in-the-wool Country, nineties Grunge, timeless Soul, and Americana into a striking signature sound, while they unify fans from the stage.

“When people are ‘kin’ to you, they’re ‘kin’ for life,” Southall observes. “It’s an ‘all for one and one for all’ mentality. We’re in this together with anybody who listens to us or comes to a show. When we play live, I often say, ‘Don’t take yourself too seriously, and we won’t either’. We’re Kinfolk after all,” he grins.

At this point, the musicians—Read, John Tyler “J.T.” Perry [guitar], Reid Barber [drums], Jeremee Knipp [bass], Braxton Curliss [keyboards], and Ryan Wellman [guitar]—share a whole lot of history with their audience.

Back in 2015, the Oklahoma-bred band introduced the masses to a boundary-breaking brew of Country and Rock with Six String Sorrow. Their vision further crystallized on 2017’s Borrowed Time, which yielded the PLATINUM-selling staple “Why.” They continued to captivate listeners with For The Birds [2021] and Southall [2023], bringing their total streams to nearly 1 BILLION. 

Celebrating a decade since their debut, The Six String Sorrow Sessions [2025] notably saw the six-piece re-record fan favorites from Six String Sorrow accompanied by everyone from Koe Wetzel and John Jeffers of Whiskey Myers to Hudson Westbrook. Road dogs through and through, they’re the rare collective who are just as comfortable bringing down the house at the Grand Ole Opry as they are sharing stages in arenas and amphitheaters alongside Whiskey Myers, The Black Crowes, ZZ Top, and Dwight Yoakam. Moreover, they’ve earned critical acclaim from Rolling Stone, People, Whiskey Riff and The Oklahoman to name a few. 

Throughout 2025, the guys crafted what would become Kinfolk. This time around, they opted to record in Norman, OK with GRAMMY®-nominated producer Wes Sharon [John Fullbright, Turnpike Troubadours]. Blown away by the band’s set at BOK Center in Tulsa, he jumped at the chance to collaborate, encouraging them to embrace who they are in the studio.

“Wes is easygoing, and he was great about letting us find our own way,” says Southall. “We initially knew we wanted to do something in town, and it worked out very well. There wasn’t any stress, which was nice about his approach. He basically said, ‘Let’s sit down, play the songs and figure out what we like and what we don’t.’ Everything flows nicely because of that.”

“Southwestern Son” and “Freight Train” cleared the way for the LP’s arrival. Praising “Freight Train,” Raised Rowdy declared, “It’s easy to imagine an entire arena singing it back at the band, fists in the air, voices hoarse by the final chorus.”

The single “Burning Bridges” illuminates the fire at the heart of the album. An original composition courtesy of Barber, the tune’s gritty riffing, propulsive drumming, and ominous keys sound tailormade for the live show. Southall’s intonation alternates between pensive and powerful as he asks, “Do you wish you’d never let home and just played it safe?” For the finale, a blazing guitar lead practically leaves Perry’s fretboard in flames.

“It might make some older folks uncomfortable, but younger fans are going to dig it,” he laughs. “I love the driving Rock ‘n’ Roll element of the song. Barber did an incredible job too. In your life, you go through hard things, growing pains, and ups and downs. The bridges burn, but the fire lights your way. It’s not all negative, even if it felt bad at the time. All of your mistakes—whether personal or business—make you who you are. If you can turn something bad into something good, you should. Our growth hasn’t been all sunshine and flowers; the thorns are worth it though.”

Elsewhere, lightly plucked acoustic notes bring a somber shade to “Worse Things”—once again written by Barber. The momentum picks up on the verses, bluesy licks cry out through strains of organ, and drums thud intensely. It examines mortality, grief, and the cycle of life through lines of acceptance, “The ending is a part of every story. It’s just a simple fact of life.”

“Barb’s dad gave him a letter written by his grandma when she passed,” he reveals. “At first, I didn’t know if I wanted to sing it night after night because it’s so sad. Last year, I lost my own grandmother and one of my best friends. ‘Worse Things’ actually ended up comforting me. I didn’t see the magic of ‘Worse Things’ until I needed it myself. It became one of my favorites.”

Then, there’s “Pocketknives and Pliers.” The slow-burning beat holds the tempo as acoustic guitar meanders beneath gentle vocals. Bordering on a whisper, he reminds, “You’ll get it done, put out your fires, with a pocket knife and a solid pair of pliers.” Recorded in just one take, it evokes the spirit of the record.

“It was the first time I’d played the song all the way through,” he remembers. “One evening, my uncle said, ‘You ought to write about how the only things a farmer needs are pocketknives and pliers.’ I kept it in my notes and revisited it on a flight. I’m named after my grandfather who I never got to meet. I’ve heard nothing but great things about him. He was a farmer for his entire life since Oklahoma actually became a state. In the song, I’m romanticizing, ‘What would I tell my son someday about his great-grandfather?’ I’m glad I got to play it for my grandma before she passed.”

Ultimately, Southall have delivered another essential body of work for their kinfolk.

“This is what I dreamed of when I started,” the frontman leaves off. “Aside from my family, Southall is the most important thing in my life. I eat, breathe, and sleep it. Over the last eleven years, we certainly weren’t handed anything. We earned our keep. It’s something I can hang my hat on and be alright with. It’s an honor to have my stamp on the music and my last name on it. I’m just thankful for everyone who’s a part of this thing—from the musicians and collaborators to the fans.”