August Ponthier Finds That Everywhere Isn’t Texas on Their Debut Album

Unrequited love, in any form, is a dagger to the heart. If you’re lucky, the blow is delivered somewhat softly (at least by modern standards) via your text being left on read. If you aren’t quite as fortunate, you’re sentenced to a painstaking journey in questioning where, exactly, the heart is buried in the old adage of “home is where the heart is.”

Like most queer people who grew up in the tight grip of the Bible Belt buckle that is Texas, singer-songwriter August Ponthier quickly realized that the aforementioned dagger would be filed down into an ever-present thorn. Their debut album, Everywhere Isn’t Texas, which is out now, wears the remnants of those Lone Star-spurred wounds less like scars and more like wisdom.

“These are all the songs I saved for my coming of age,” Ponthier tells the Observer. “They’re the feelings about where I grew up, and they’re all, in real time, me processing what it feels like to be a queer person who left Texas and wants to go back and feel safe enough.”

Ponthier, who identifies as a lesbian and is non-binary, has found a way to reconcile the battle of learning to love not only themselves, but also the place that made such self-love feel out of reach for so long. The new album is their answer to the often demoralizing heartbreak of trying to love somewhere that doesn’t always feel like it loves you back.

In October of last year, nearing the announcement of the record, the Allen-raised artist publicly came out as non-binary. The moment, which came after being dropped from Interscope Records following several major-label releases, gave Ponthier an opportunity to symbolically chart their new path. They decided that if the album was meant to be the unwrapping of their coming-of-age, the name on the jacket should be emblematic of their fully expressive self, too.

“I don’t think I could have gotten to the place of me saying, ‘Hi, I’m changing my first name,’ which is extremely inconvenient to do mid-career, without being in this era where I need to start listening to myself and believing in myself,” they tell us.

And though they had been holding this realization close to the chest up until October, the tracks on this record allowed Ponthier to privately thread it all together through their songwriting for years. Some songs were written as recently as six months ago; others date back nearly five years.

“I was recording this whole album kind of with a secret,” they tell us. “I’m so glad the album pushed me to do it, because I don’t think I could have waited any longer. There is no replacement for the affirmation you get when you are recognized as yourself.”

Fittingly, the album’s title track is a thesis statement for Ponthier’s journey, but one presented with the soft reassurance from someone waving from the other side of fear and isolation. Ponthier sings, “Everywhere isn’t Texas/It’s the only place you know/But that don’t make it home/Everywhere isn’t Texas/You don’t have to stay in this state alone.” The music video for the song also features fellow Dallas musician Jenni Rose of the Vandoliers, who came out as a trans woman last spring.

No Place Like Home

Shades of that theme are marked throughout the rest of Everywhere Isn’t Texas. On “Betty,” they find solace in connecting with the titular character as they lament, “It’s tough in Texas/When you’re hopeless, helpless, different.” Complicated relationships again peek through the deceptively bubbly track, “I’m Crying, Are You?” which also serves as the album’s most prime representation of Ponthier’s bittersweet melodies at their best.

“My biggest and most complicated relationship is with myself and with the place that I grew up,” Ponthier says. “So the album is a lot about holding two things at once: loving something, but also criticizing it, whether it’s your state, yourself, or your family.”

Album standout “Handsome” centers on Ponthier’s relationship with their own gender identity as they muse on envy for the magnetism of “painted nails on gentle males” like Timothee Chalamet and the internet’s boyfriend of the moment, Jacob Elordi.

“I think my music has found a lot of trans-masc people, and a lot of people who have had thoughts like I’ve had,” Ponthier says of the track. “…I never feel less lonely than when I’m in a group of people who have gone through something similar.”

Ponthier, who is now based in NYC, also sees parallels in the record’s exploration of their relationship with Texas to those of the tales they grew up enamored with – the vibrant and auspicious adventures from Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz. Along the way, the artist colors their own adventure on Everywhere Isn’t Texas with shades of folk and country music, guided by a rich, dreamy pop tone. Really, it’s a perfect reflection of someone raised in Texas but long fostered by their dreams of brighter pastures.

“It’s been turning all my feelings on again, and in a lot of ways, there were parts of myself that I was really numbed out to,” Ponthier says. “Coming out just makes me feel everything again. And I think part of that is incredible and amazing, and I feel more present than I’ve ever felt. And then, in a lot of ways, that presence can bring pain.”

Being made to feel different from a young age is a constant splintering of fragmented heartache for many LGBTQ+ Texans, but with Everywhere Isn’t Texas, Ponthier has found that love looks different for and from everyone.

“I do love Texas,” they tell us. “Texas is a part of me, and I do dream of a future where I can go back and not feel afraid for myself and others.”

Ponthier’s story comes full circle, too – they’re coming home for an album release party tonight at Spinster Records in Bishop Arts. Everywhere Isn’t Texas is out everywhere now.