Grief is a subject at the forefront of nearly every elevated horror film (i.e. Hereditary, The Babadook, Pet Sematary), so many albums (Mount Eerie’s A Crow Looked at Me, Eels’ Electro Shock Blues, Arcade Fire’s Funeral), and so many books (A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis, The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion, LaRose: A Novel by Louise Erdrich). While much of grief-inspired art is depressing fodder with a tissue count, Lew Apollo takes a different approach.
You see, his dad and best friend/inspiration committed suicide just a few years ago in 2022. Lew, who had already suffered from mental health struggles of depression and anxiety, could have let that trauma consume him. Instead, he opted to grasp onto hope and channel that into creativity… and the result of that creativity? His new album Fool’s Gold.
“I’ve battled my own darkness for most of my life.”
When you listen to Fool’s Gold, it’s not a dour or depressing album. In fact, many of the songs are sunny, summery-type songs, anchored in classic soul and R&B rhythms but injected with a modern indiepop vibe… Imagine if Jay Kay of Jamiroquai and Amy Winehouse collaborated on a record together. It’s mad funky to the point that, if you don’t read the lyrics closely, you’re only getting half of the story.
Fool’s Gold is a sonic journey through pain, mental health, love and illusion that’s full of life and beats, while he finds his inner strength. His bio describes this record as “a concept album in disguise: a sonic arc that starts in a lush, rose-colored jungle and ends with bare ground and open sky. It’s a metaphor for the mental journey Lew has walked—one of beauty, disillusionment, self-exploration, and ultimately, acceptance.” It’s not wrong. Fool’s Gold kicks off the rose-tinted and pulsing first single and video “No Room In Hell” which pulls you into his rhythm-heavy world and keeps you captivated.
We sat down with Lew to discuss his fantastic new album, his inspirations, and how he transformed his grief into music like an alchemist with lead.
Hi Lew, I am really loving the new album. It’s very different from most of the other music you hear currently. Considering you’re from Austin, it doesn’t sound like what most people would think of Austin music. Where did you find the inspiration for your sound?
Thank you, that means a lot. I was born and raised in rural northern Minnesota and was infatuated with all kinds of music growing up. I was lucky to grow up in a really musically diverse household — my dad played a lot of Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and Rush, while my mom had Prince, The Beatles, and Aretha Franklin playing in the house. That wide lens shaped everything I do now. My sound I feel is very personal to me I feel, but everything inspires me along the way.
There’s an almost tropicalia sound mixed in with classic soul a la the smooth sounds of Motown. Your bio says you grew up in Minnesota and were raised on Dylan, Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and the Beatles. How did those artists merge with the soul you ended up with?
I feel when you start blending genres you’re often left with something that feels like soul – not just musically, but emotionally. All of those artists you mentioned taught me something: hooks, rhythm and storytelling. When my wife gifted me my classical guitar after my father passed, it inspired something in me. That sound brought a natural tropicalia and Latin flare into what I was writing. It felt fresh and not so oversaturated like a few other genres to me. I began writing every song on that guitar, so it became part of the DNA of the record.
Let’s talk about “Let the Light In”… The title seems to be the theme of this album — about how the world is full of darkness but you need to find room to “let the light in.” Do I have that correctly?
You’ve got it. “Let the Light In” is a personal diary for the last few years of my life. On the surface, it’s a breakup song — but underneath, it’s about grief, survival, and learning to breathe again after being buried. It’s about the flicker of hope that sneaks in, even when you don’t expect it. Like much of the album, it carries the duality of pain and healing. The light is literal but can also be metaphorical.
“Music has always been my therapy and always will be.”
Seems like you suffered quite a bit of trauma and grief from the death of your father who was your role model. It’s so easy to fall into the throes of depression and grief, but it seems you were able to get to a place of peace. Was that part of your worldview before his passing, or did you come to that realization through emotional and psychological work/therapy?
I’ve battled my own darkness for most of my life. Depression and anxiety have been with me since I was young. But my father’s passing hit in a way that was completely different. It shattered what I thought I knew about loss. That grief forced me to confront myself and choose how I was going to live moving forward. Through therapy, through my music, through community and time with family I’ve learned how to cope. My family and I kept saying “This will not define us.” And it hasn’t, but it has changed me forever. I just try to live in the most loving way I can now.
There seems to be a transformation through the progression of the tracks… It seems like you begin with the complexity of life and as the sequence of the album plays out, you get more and more emotionally raw. Was this a conscious journey? Did you write it chronologically or did that come later in sequencing?
That’s exactly what I was going for. I didn’t write the songs in sequence, but once we had them all recorded, we realized the emotional arc was already there. If each song is one version of the story, then the order tells a deeper, second story. My wife Mello Jaxn [who stars in his “No Room in Hell” video above], my engineer Victor Gaspar, and I spent a lot of time on the tracklist to let that progression shine. The first half of the album is filled with love, external problems and searching. As it goes on, it strips away the noise and gets more raw and internal — and by the time we get to [the final track] “Feeling OK,” there’s no filter left.
Your bio mentions mental health and how you struggle with it. What specifically have you faced, and do you use music as your therapy?
I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression most of my life. Music has always been my therapy and always will be. As a kid, I would sit for hours learning B.B. King and Stevie Ray Vaughan licks to try to process and say what I couldn’t with words. I still turn to music, but I also spend a lot of time in meditation, gratitude, and staying present.
“No matter how heavy grief feels, there’s always a way to turn it into something beautiful. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I really hear the Stevie Ray Vaughan influence in “Die For You” — the blues pacing and guitar tone. I read this was written shortly before your father’s suicide and felt like an eerie foreshadowing. Did it feel premonitory to you?
Yeah. That song really shocked me. I added a gun cocking sound to the production without thinking twice, about a month before my dad passed. After he died, I couldn’t listen to it the same way. It felt like I had tapped into something I didn’t fully understand at the time. That experience reminded me that music is so much deeper than notes and lyrics – it’s spiritual.
The acoustic track, “Feeling OK,” feels like a confrontation of reality — like you’re admitting that you’re managing, not healed, and that’s enough. Do I have that right?
Exactly. “Feeling OK” is me taking a breath and saying, “This is where I’m at.” It’s not a celebration or defeat – it’s just honesty through what I went through. The idea of “letting the light in” sounds beautiful, but the truth is, it’s messy and doesn’t fix everything. “Feeling Ok” is me being fully unfiltered. Recorded live on one microphone. Just the truth of someone trying to be okay through it all. And to be okay with not being ok sometimes too.
You’ve been quoted as saying “cigarettes are the path to my grave” and “take pills never care when I find them.” Is that a commentary on self-medication?
Those lines more so come from a place of numbness – from trying to dull the pain metaphorically and physically. Many people use external sources to get them through. I personally stay away from drugs, but have wrestled with unhealthy ways of escaping.
You named your album “Fool’s Gold.” While it’s the title of one track, is there a deeper significance?
Definitely. Fool’s Gold represents the illusion. Chasing things that look like healing, love, success – but end up hollow. This album is rooted in reality. Learning the difference between what glitters and what’s real. Fool’s Gold felt like the perfect metaphor for my mind at the time. Beautiful on the outside, but confused, fractured, and still trying to find its way through.
As a closer, since your album is essentially about the overbearing weight of grief and how to ultimately overcome it, tell me a joke to make me feel like everything is going to be okay.
One of the classics that fits with the album: What do you call a sad strawberry? A blueberry.
But blueberries are sweet too. So no matter how heavy grief feels, there’s always a way to turn it into something beautiful. Everything’s going to be okay.
Lew Apollo’s new album “Fool’s Gold” will be released on August 8th. Find out more about him here: https://www.lewapollo.com/
