For Lindsey Wood, music has always been part of her story, even when life took her away from it. After building a career, raising a family and navigating a cancer diagnosis, the St. Louis singer-songwriter returned to music in her early forties with a deeper perspective on life, time and what truly matters.
Her new single, “Someday Love”, looks ahead rather than back, imagining a quieter future in the Ozarks with open skies, slow mornings and the people she loves. But beneath the dream is a more immediate message: learning to appreciate what we have while still allowing ourselves to dream about what comes next.
We spoke with Lindsey about finding her way back to music, growing older as an artist, rebuilding confidence, and learning what “enough” really means.
- “Someday Love” imagines a slower, simpler future, but it comes from someone who has built a full and busy life. What does “enough” mean to you now, and has that definition changed over the years?
Earlier in life, I thought of “enough” mostly in terms of time and money. But time is always fleeting, and with money, the idea of having “enough” can feel constantly out of reach—especially in a world that keeps getting more expensive. I’ve learned that “enough” has to mean something deeper. For me now, it’s about using the time and resources I do have to make room for what matters: pursuing music, being present, and recognizing that fulfillment often comes through small, meaningful moments. It’s noticing the leaves changing, finally finding the right hook for a song, and watching my kids grow into themselves.
- Your relationship with music has taken some unexpected turns, from picking up the guitar as a child, to pursuing a corporate career, raising a family, and eventually returning to songwriting. What do you think kept music quietly calling you back?
During my songwriting and performings hiatus, I was still deeply connected to music—not only as someone who loved writing and performing, but also as a true fan. I attended more than a dozen live shows a year, constantly being inspired by other artists. My favorite concert companion is my daughter, Cecilia. She has been to such a wide variety of shows with me and loves to rock, at just 10 years old, she already has drawers full of eclectic concert T-shirts.
One of the biggest challenges in returning to music was rebuilding confidence in my voice. Singing is a muscle, and after years of not using it consistently, I could feel that it wasn’t as strong as it once had been – not like coming back to the guitar which was second nature. When I began taking my daughter to voice lessons, I eventually decided to start lessons myself—to strengthen my voice and learn the proper techniques I never fully understood when I was younger. In my early gigs, I often pushed too hard and would lose my voice by the end of a show. Now, I’ve rediscovered my range, found parts of my voice I didn’t know were there, and when I’m not at work, I’m usually singing—which drives my family crazy.
- You began writing from a very different perspective in your teens, but now your songs are shaped by decades of lived experience. How has getting older changed the stories you want to tell?
When you’re young, songwriting can be a powerful way to observe the world and make sense of yourself. I may cringe a little when I hear those early songs now, but it feels no different than looking back at old photos from that time in my life. Decades later, I’ve lived through more, seen more, and learned how to understand the seasons of my emotions instead of simply reacting to them. I also recognize patterns more clearly now.
In songwriting, one thing age has taught me is that some songs need time to evolve. I’m much more willing now to revisit lyrics, melodies, and arrangements than I was when I was younger – when I was more focused on racing to the finish line. A good example is “Falling Back,” a song I wrote at 18 and overhauled before rereleasing it in 2024. At the time, I imagined running into an old flame decades later and feeling something rekindled, but I was too young to fully understand what that kind of time and distance would feel like. Years later, after finding myself closer to that place in life, I finally understood what the song was trying to become. It was always a song I was proud of, but it needed time to simmer before I could shape it into what it was meant to be.
- After everything you’ve experienced, including your cancer diagnosis and the decision to return to music, do you think you’ve become more comfortable with uncertainty, or do you simply see it differently now?
Being diagnosed with cancer at 30 changed me, but it does not define me. It reminded me that none of us is invincible and that life can shift in an instant. I found the lump just days after my son’s first birthday celebration—a joyful moment that quickly turned into fear and shock. That experience made me determined to live fully, use my time meaningfully, and create something I can be proud of. Eventually, something catches up with all of us, and perhaps a few of my songs will continue on after I’m gone.
- You returned to music in your early forties after building a career and family life, at a point when the industry can often place so much emphasis on youth. What has being a woman returning to music on your own terms taught you about confidence, visibility and taking up space in the industry?
When I started playing live shows again, I realized the audience wasn’t limited to one age group. Friends my age came out, sometimes with their kids, alongside baby boomers and people from all walks of life. Loving and appreciating music doesn’t have a single demographic. I’m reminded me that a great song is timeless—some of the classic rock songs I love are nearly 60 years old and still resonate. I’m also a die-hard Tina Turner fan, and her comeback at 44 continues to inspire me; she went on to share her art for several incredible decades after that.
- If “Someday Love” is ultimately about knowing what you’re moving toward rather than running away from, what are you personally moving toward in this next chapter of your life?
While the song imagines a quieter life after the hustle and bustle with my husband, I’m not in a rush to get there. Before that chapter arrives, I still want to feel like I’ve fully explored the creativity within me—making more music, sharing more laughter, and seeing more of the world.