Eliza Edens is a Brooklyn-based songwriter who writes songs that dance inside the white-hot intersection of pleasure and pain. Bold and sincere, their songs are like antique cameo necklaces–snapshots of tenderness, worn close to the heart. A palette of punchy electric guitars and drums, gentle keys, and flourishes of saxophone and electronic percussion accent Edens’ voice as they sing of lovers & lilacs, grief & gratitude, and Freud’s “death drive.” Chameleonic in nature, Edens touches corners of pop, rock, folk, and country–with their voice as the glue that binds each genre foray together into a commanding sound.

Edens came up initially on the DIY songwriter circuit–playing self-booked tours of small clubs and listening rooms on the quiet success of 2020’s Time Away From Time and 2022’s lush acoustic-fingerpicked We’ll Become the Flowers. They earned praise from outlets such as Paste Magazine, The Nashville Scene, Spill Magazine, and Americana UK while incessantly touring across America. Cutting their teeth on the road eventually paid off as Edens won runner-up at the esteemed Telluride Troubadour Songwriting competition in 2024. The veneer of a quiet songster singing breezy Nick Drake-esque melodies was quickly dashed after Edens lost their mother in late 2024 after a long journey with early-onset dementia. After releasing 2025’s lo-fi collection of voice memos it’s your birthday & you’re gorgeous with no fanfare or promotion, Edens disappeared from touring for the better part of a year. Some say Edens went out to New Mexico to find god. Others say Edens turned into a butterfly and floated south to greener pastures. Edens will say that they continued to find hope in writing songs.

Newly molded by the black hole of grief, the singer reemerges this fall with their first record in 4 years. Death Drive, out October 30, is the sound of someone finding themself while also losing control. Heavy and light, black and neon-tinged, the album is a masterful achievement of contemporary indie rock, poignantly moving through the landscape of grief while also foisting joy, love, and humor up to the light.