5 Songs I Love w/ Lindsey Wood

Every artist has a collection of songs that leave a lasting mark, whether they inspire a love of songwriting, shape an approach to storytelling or become the soundtrack to different chapters of life. Singer-songwriter Lindsey Wood, those influences span folk, classic rock, blues and Americana, with the sounds of Van Morrison, Tom Petty, Mazzy Star and Kacey Musgraves finding their way into her own cinematic, soul-driven approach to music. Drawing on decades of listening, living and creating, Wood brings a personal perspective to the songs that have helped shape her musical identity.

With her recent single “Someday Love” offering a glimpse into the reflective, forward-looking spirit of her album Roots & Revival, the singer catches up with Flex. Along the way, she explores five tracks that have stayed with her, sharing the artists and sounds that have influenced her songwriting.

Madison Cunningham - My Full Name

“My Full Name” was my doorway into Madison Cunningham’s singular approach to songwriting. At its core, the song is pure—just an arresting melody and lyrics that seem to reveal herself a little more with every listen. There is something especially compelling about hearing an artist so closely associated with the guitar move to the piano; the shift feels less like a change of instrument than the discovery of another room in her creative world. The production is what fully transports me. When the woodwinds arrive—a texture I also love in Sufjan Stevens’ records—the song opens into a moss-covered landscape of deep greens, earthy browns, and dusky blues. Those are the colors I visualize throughout the full album, Ace.

The Avett Brothers - I Wish I Was

My musical collaborator Dave Hagan introduced me to this song, and its intimacy drew me in immediately. The opening exchange between guitar and banjo is so understated that it feels less like an arrangement than a private conversation—two voices gently circling, answering, and leaving space for each other. That interplay becomes the emotional language of the relationship at the song’s center. Rather than declaring his devotion outright, the narrator imagines himself as the ordinary objects woven into his partner’s daily life: “I wish I was a sweater wrapped around your hips. And when it got too cold, into me you’d slip.” His longing is tender but hesitant, as though he is always watching from a slight distance, afraid that reaching too boldly for the relationship might disturb the very magic he wants to preserve.

Sarah Jarosz - When The Lights Go Out

I have followed Sarah Jarosz since her 2011 album Follow Me Down, drawn to the clarity and intimacy of her voice. Although the mandolin is her signature instrument, she has never stayed within traditional bluegrass, moving fluidly through progressive folk and into the dreamy pop textures of 2023’s Polaroid Lovers. “When the Lights Go Out” is my favorite track on the album. Its lilting 6/8 rhythm creates a hypnotic sway that serves the song’s dreamlike imagery: “In a dream we were Polaroid lovers / In the deep where the edges don’t lie.” Like a photograph developing in the dark, the song asks who remains when the crowd, the performance, and every distraction have fallen away.

Van Morrison - Into The Mystic

Van Morrison’s soulful voice and warm horn arrangements have always drawn me in; even at their richest, they never feel overproduced. I could listen to all 38 minutes of his 1970 album Moondance on repeat, but “Into the Mystic” is the song I return to most. It does not unfold as a literal story so much as conjure a feeling—restless, romantic, and almost spiritual—as if the music itself were drifting across the water. Among modern artists, Nathaniel Rateliff comes closest to capturing that same blend of raw soul, looseness, and lived-in warmth.

Patty Griffin - Rain

“Rain” opens Patty Griffin’s 2002 album, 1000 Kisses, and for a time it also became the soundtrack to my early college days. The album was a constant companion in my Discman as I crossed campus, moving through streams of passing students while remaining completely absorbed in Griffin’s intimate sonic world. Set against the quiet persistence of a rainy day, the song traces heartbreak, emotional exhaustion, and the painful recognition that love alone cannot rescue a relationship that has already begun to slip away. I am equally drawn to the way the album was made: recorded live in the studio, with a small acoustic ensemble playing together in real time. You can hear that shared breath in the performances. Nothing feels overly polished or pieced together; the music feels organic, immediate, and deeply human.

Listen to "Someday Love"