Videos by American Songwriter
Caroline Kingsbury is The Red Headed Indian. The Nashville native blends folk songwriting with classic Motown vocals. You can download her latest EP, Honey, for free via NoiseTrade.
ARTIST: The Red Headed Indian
SONG: “Please Come Home”
BIRTHDATE: 8/16/1995
HOMETOWN: Indialantic, FL
CURRENT LOCATION: Nashville, TN
AMBITIONS: To be fluent in Spanish, live in New York City for some time, be a loyal friend, always be genuine
TURN-OFFS: Bad listeners
TURN-ONS: The ability to be unashamed of being embarrassed, passion, beards and tats, clean graphic design, loud coffee shops, scrambled eggs
DREAM GIG: Since I am now a Nashville resident, the appropriate answer would be to play The Ryman. While that is definitely true, the ultimate dream would be to play to a room, any room in fact, full of people who know my songs and have really invested in them. Also, touring. My body aches to be moving, being on the road, and discovering what I’m actually capable of.
FAVORITE LYRIC: “It feels so strange to feel good, and when I was the fire you were wood, so when I was petrified you understood” – Broken Open by Cold War Kids
CRAZIEST PERSON I KNOW: My cat. Well, she’s actually dead. And not a person. But, she was my best friend for 13 years of my life. I grew up with her. Her name was Stormy. I would be sitting in my room and she would come rushing in meowing in the strangest way. It wasn’t really a meow, it was like a grunt, but higher pitched.
SONG I WISH I WROTE: “Like Real People Do” by Hozier. “Can we just kiss like real people do?”. Damn. Oh, and “Boots Of Spanish Leather” by Bob Dylan. This is American Songwriter for goodness sake. I have to mention something about good ‘ol Bob.
5 PEOPLE I’D MOST LIKE TO HAVE DINNER WITH: Tom Hanks, Joy Williams, Jimmy Fallon, Buddy Holly, and my brother (he lives in California, so I never see him, and he’s almost cancer free, and I miss him)
MY FAVORITE CONCERT EXPERIENCE: Moving to Nashville has been a never ending concert. But, there are two shows I will never ever forget. The first one was this year at a free concert series Nashville hosts called Live On The Green. One of my favorite bands, The Head and The Heart, was playing. It was my first time seeing them, and I was second row in the tightest crowd I had ever been in. It was 90 degrees. My clothes were consumed by sweat. The Head and The Heart was real. They were playing in front of 40,000 people and were so genuine and simple. They simply have damn good songs. That was enough. I was locked in the entire two hours. Sweat and all. Second experience was seeing one of my best friends, Julianna Zachariou, play live for the first time. She was playing at Sweet CeCe’s, a frozen yogurt place, on a shitty speakers, and she still caused me to have an aneurysm because of how incredible she was. It was her first show in Nashville. We were freshman in college. She blew me away.
I WROTE THIS SONG: About my biological father who left when I was five. He sucked. I wrote this song out of a very specific place of confusion and hurt, but left it open enough so everyone who’s had a dead beat father or whatever can join into what I was feeling. It’s weird that we receive comfort from knowing that other people have dealt with the same thing that we have. But, we do. I wrote it for that purpose.
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