Flow Like a River: A Folk-Rock Meditation on Inner Balance

Cracks in the Mirror, Music in the Silence

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had days where the news sounds like noise, the mirror throws shade, and your own thoughts are the loudest hecklers in the room. That’s where Flow Like a River lands. By Forrest Hill. Right in the soft meat of that disorientation. The kind that creeps in when you’re trying to keep it together, trying not to spiral, trying to convince yourself that, yeah, you’re probably still sane.

This one came out of a 7-day silent meditation retreat. No phones. No talking. Just your breath, your brain, and a few birds mocking your inner chaos. What emerged it’s a pivot. A deep breath halfway through Beyond the Veil, the upcoming album that walks a full arc from detachment to something warmer.

The artist is a musical monk, ex-academic, ex-frontman, and soul-digger. Forrest Hill writes like someone excavating their own past. Funk-rock stages with Run-DMC and Debbie Harry, then MIT-level academia, and now this.

Let the Poison Pass

The heart of the song? “Don’t let the poison flow like a river / Into your heart.”  It’s a different kind of performance than what most people know. It’s a warning. The kind whispered to yourself when you’re tired of pretending everything’s fine. It sits among lyrics about doubt, crashing worlds, and giving in to fate – but it all builds to a decision: to stop feeding the cynicism. To choose flow instead of friction.

The production lets it breathe. Thick reverb opens space around the vocal. Synths hum under acoustic chords. The rhythm glides like it’s wading through memory. You can hear the influence of Andrew Bird in the structure, a shimmer of U2’s 80s-era sense of echo, and maybe a hint of The Shins if they unplugged and lit incense.

This was built with long-time collaborator J. Christopher Thomas in a familiar dance of acoustic guitar foundations and layered studio textures. Recorded at Oakland’s Tiny Telephone Studios – the same walls that have held songs from Death Cab for Cutie and Spoon – this one carries its own soul weight, with clarity in every decision.

From Spotlight to Stillness

The artist’s journey reads like a novel you’d want to underline. Fronting Boston’s Judy’s Tiny Head. Local chart success with My Car. Sharing stages with names that defined a generation. Then – pause. Ten years of academic pursuit and reorientation. A move to Oakland. Meditation. Silence. Return.

Now six albums deep into a solo path, the songwriting is quieter but deeper. No more masks. Just the raw material of experience, sanded down into melody.

READ ALSO: DBSOCK – THE JOURNEY: A RAW DIVE INTO ART-POP AND EMOTIONAL GRIT

One lyric in particular hit like a dart: “I used to think that I was smart / Didn’t have to play my part.” I’ve worn that mindset. Probably still do, sometimes. But there’s something honest about saying it out loud, putting it in a chorus, and letting it move on.

Flow Like a River: Still Thinking About It

I listened twice. First out of curiosity – then, all of a sudden, I loved it. Second out of necessity. There’s a stillness in this song that makes space around the noise. No dramatic crescendo, no tidy closure – just a quiet shift. And that can matter more than anything else.

Flow Like a River marks the midpoint of Beyond the Veil, out July 11, 2025. It rolls to a quiet stop, leaves a little space behind it, and that space keeps turning over in your head. Follow the trail: Spotify, Bandcamp, Instagram, YouTube. Let the song find its way into your day.