With the release of Between Lightning and Thunder, Miles East reaffirms himself as a songwriter deeply committed to both craft and truth. The album, steeped in the imagery of voyages across turbulent waters, is more than just a collection of songs—it’s a meditation on relationships in crisis, resilience, and the flickers of hope that persist even in the darkest places.
The title track sets the stage. For East, the phrase “between lightning and thunder” encapsulates that fragile silence when everything feels suspended—when the ship drifts on still waters, and time itself stretches into eternity. “That’s what the song is about,” he explains, “and as the album title, it does the job. It speaks to one facet of the record but resonates across the rest.”
At its heart, the album carries a message of hope. Not the easy kind, but the kind forged in struggle. East describes it as “real hope that hangs out in very dark places—where it can do the most good.” For him, warnings, worries, even crises are forms of hope because they imply a desire to act, to change. Each song, no matter how heavy, holds that spark.
The comparisons to Beck and Paul McCartney haven’t gone unnoticed. East laughs at the association but admits McCartney’s music has been woven into his life since childhood. The Beatles, Wings, and McCartney’s solo work remain constant touchstones. Beck’s Sea Change, meanwhile, struck like a lightning bolt—another reminder that influence can come either as a lifelong companion or as a single transformative moment. Both streams, he notes, have fed into this record.
The production of Between Lightning and Thunder owes much to East’s longstanding collaboration with Blake Morgan. The two spent nearly a year in preproduction before ever stepping into a studio, refining songs, fleshing out themes, and sharpening a vision. “One might assume that kind of thoroughness would constrain you,” East says, “but it frees you up instead. When you know what you’re doing going in, you’re free to color outside the lines when the spirit hits.” That meticulous preparation led to unexpected revelations—like keeping an old, string-dead guide track for “It’s Ours To Lose”, because it captured exactly the mood the song demanded.
The results speak for themselves. Lead singles from the album have collectively garnered more than 300,000 streams, boosted further by editorial support from Apple Music’s New In Rock. “Game changer,” East calls it. The validation has been overwhelming: fans describe the songs as “inspiring,” while critics have gone so far as to declare the album a new standard for singer-songwriters.
Still, East frames his journey not as triumph but as a process of persistence. Eight years since his last record, he has crystallized his artistic identity, learning to trust that if a song resonates with him, it stands the best chance of resonating with others. That clarity, however, hasn’t dulled the challenges—each obstacle in the studio became a proving ground. Songs like “All Hands On Deck” demanded not only musical execution but also sonic world-building, intended to feel like standing at the prow of a ship in a storm.
His collaboration with Morgan has been both anchor and compass. Having first worked together in the late ’90s, their bond has only deepened, giving East the trust to push further into vulnerable territory. Morgan, he says, “sees the flickerings of the artist you want to be even if it’s not so clear to you yet. Then he guides you into sharp focus. It’s a liberating journey.”
Looking ahead, East continues to balance his own work with drumming for labelmates and longtime friends. A new video for “All Hands On Deck” is set to arrive soon, while collaborations with Blake Morgan, Janita, and Chris Barron (of Spin Doctors) keep him in constant creative motion.
When asked what advice he’d offer to younger artists—or to his own younger self—East doesn’t hesitate: “Never apologize for being an artist. Embrace it and wear it like a badge of honor. Reject the notion that it’s an option. For the artist, there is no plan B.”
In Between Lightning and Thunder, that ethos is clear. This is a record built on preparation and patience, but also on conviction—the refusal to drift without purpose, even when caught in still waters. It’s an album about storms, silence, and above all, the enduring power of hope.
