There is something in Trevor Drury’s voice—something elusive, like a train disappearing around a bend, leaving only the echo of its rumble to resonate. His EP Alice, It’s All In Your Head does not begin with an invitation but rather a beckoning into a space where reality feels fluid, constantly shifting between what is perceived and what is imagined. It’s a fitting title for Drury, whose music flirts with that ambiguous line between introspection and fantasy, between the truths we confront and the illusions we cling to.
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At first glance, Trevor Drury seems to embody the contradictions of modern life, effortlessly balancing them, as if living both sides of a coin. Born in Tucson but raised in the sun-soaked suburbs of San Diego, he found himself torn between music and the world of high fashion. He has graced the pages of Details Magazine, stood as the face of Tom Ford’s holiday campaigns, and worked with designers like Hermes and Robert Geller. In another life, he might have stayed there, one of those beautiful ghosts floating in the glossy world of high fashion, but Drury’s ambitions always lay elsewhere.
By the time Alice, It’s All In Your Head opens, you realize quickly that the EP is not about escape but rather confrontation. Each song is steeped in the human condition. And the human condition, as Drury reminds us, is messy, tangled, and riddled with ghosts. His influences—Radiohead, The Killers, Billy Joel, even the King himself, Elvis Presley—bleed into these tracks, each with a sonic fingerprint that feels cinematic. The opening track, “Head on the Tracks,” feels like a narrative ripped from a dream sequence, jagged piano riffs cutting through an alt-pop melody like desert wind scraping across broken glass.
The narrative quality of his songwriting pulls you in, and it’s no wonder that his background in storytelling—he studied at the San Diego State University for vocal performance, then at London’s BIMM Institute—infuses his lyrics with a cinematic flair. This is music that doesn’t just play; it unfolds. The songs twist and turn, sometimes erupting, sometimes retreating, always leaving the listener somewhere between where they started and where they’re headed, disoriented but intrigued.
Drury’s voice, smooth and nuanced, stretches and bends to fit the complicated themes of Alice, It’s All In Your Head. “The EP,” he says, “is about grappling with inner voices, those internal dialogues that can either help or harm you.” In this way, Drury turns the listener inward, asking us to confront our own illusions. There’s a subtle dissonance in how he approaches themes of self-doubt, love, and loss, never quite allowing for resolution, only suggestion.
The collaboration with Grammy award-winning producer Marc Swersky and mixer Seth Von Paulus further elevates this work, adding texture without overshadowing the rawness of Drury’s songwriting. It’s a delicate balance that few artists manage so early in their careers, but Drury achieves it with a deft hand. The alt-pop sound mingles with indie rock and jazz influences in a way that feels retro yet entirely current. At moments, you can almost hear echoes of Elton John or Billy Joel, not in imitation, but in spirit.
Drury’s musical journey began at the age of eight, playing piano, and perhaps this is where his music finds its grounding. The piano is a constant companion in his songs, sometimes delicate, sometimes thunderous, but always there, anchoring the emotional turmoil of the lyrics. The track “Shallow,” from his earlier album The Start, hinted at what was to come—Drury’s ability to create something deeply personal yet universally resonant. He recalls the moment when the melody for that song struck him, walking to a math class that he never made it to because the music in his head took precedence. It’s a story he tells with a smile, but it speaks to a larger truth: that for Drury, music is not just a career, but a necessity.
There is also a disquieting elegance to his music, a kind of graceful unraveling that happens in real-time. This is most evident in “Head On The Tracks,” the EP’s leading single. Premiered in Clash Magazine in the UK, it’s a haunting, almost hypnotic track that swells and pulls you under, making you question where the song begins and your own reflections end. Drury’s lyrics here are impressionistic, offering more than they explain, and leaving you with a feeling rather than a conclusion.
In interviews, Drury has spoken about his connection to music as a constant in his life. “I’ve always felt a connection with music,” he says. “When I was a kid they asked me in school what I would like to be when I grew up. I wanted to be everything—a musician, a singer, a pianist. But I knew early on that music would take the lead.” And take the lead it did. His time at Berklee College of Music, where he continues to study songwriting and music production, has honed his craft in a way that feels intentional yet unforced. There’s a discipline here, but it’s wrapped in layers of spontaneity, as if Drury’s process is both carefully considered and entirely instinctual.
As Alice, It’s All In Your Head winds through its five tracks, the narrative becomes clear—Drury is not offering solutions but reflections. He is a conduit, guiding the listener through their own interior landscapes, making us confront the voices in our heads. The EP closes with the title track, “Alice, It’s All In Your Head,” a song that feels like a quiet exhale after a long, tumultuous journey. It’s introspective, almost confessional, but still leaves you with a sense of unresolved tension, as if the answers are just out of reach.
Trevor Drury is not trying to be everything to everyone, nor is he conforming to the expectations that come with his modeling past or his alt-pop present. He is an artist in the truest sense, creating work that invites interpretation and introspection. In a world where so much music is designed to be easily consumed, Alice, It’s All In Your Head demands something more. It asks for time, for attention, for patience. But for those willing to engage, it offers something rare: the chance to see not only into Drury’s world but into their own.
Mindy McCall
