Cary Morin

This song was one of the first I wrote after stepping away from songwriting for a while. In the 1990s, I spent several years working as a sideman guitarist. That eventually led to an invitation to contribute to a compilation project in Paris, which in turn opened the door to touring Europe as a sideman. At the time, I didn’t fully realize it, but those years became a kind of education—learning how to perform on larger stages and how to write songs with a concert setting in mind, rather than the club-oriented dance music I had been playing.
Even then, I wasn’t entirely comfortable sharing my own material. I often questioned whether my work had value, and that uncertainty still lingers. With every new song or album, I feel the need to push in a different direction, and with that comes the familiar doubt—that quiet, persistent hope that it will connect.
“Peace” was included on the Paris compilation but never received a U.S. release. Still, the experience gave me a bit more confidence in putting my music out into the world. The song itself reflects my admiration for a longtime artist friend who continually reinvented their sound, moving fluidly between genres and, in my view, succeeding every time.
Interestingly, the song’s title refers to its subject, though that subject is never explicitly mentioned in the lyrics. I recorded the first version while beginning to explore open tunings on guitar. I hadn’t yet developed my fingerstyle approach and was essentially rediscovering the acoustic instrument—something that continues to evolve.
At its core, Peace is also a reflection on small-town, rural America. Despite our differences, it speaks to a shared desire—for calm, for understanding, and ultimately, for peace in our lives.