His sophomore album, ‘When I Change My Mind I Don’t Mean It’, arrives at a moment when heart and horizon are in tense dialogue, offering a body of work that feels as much like a journal as it does a record.
Written and recorded in a cabin high in the California mountains, the fourteen-track collection embodies a sense of retreat and surrender - a gathering of internal winds shaped into song. The environment seeps into the music, giving it a hush and clarity that feels both fragile and resolute.
Each song plays like a conversation with the self: questions that don’t insist on answers, confessions that make room for doubt, and melodies that hold both regret and hope. This is Peña reaching further, letting change show up not as disruption, but as something lived in and something necessary. As he tells it, these songs aren’t just an act of expression, but of survival: a way of stitching together the past, present, and the uneasy grace of whatever comes next.
We got the opportunity to talk with Chance Peña about the making of the album, the stories that shaped it and the unexpected lessons he’s learning along the way.
‘When I Change My Mind I Don’t Mean It’ is such an evocative title - at what point in your journey did you realise it encapsulated the spirit of the project?
I just found myself whispering that under my breath once, after feeling like I let a friend down with my indecisiveness. “I guess when I change my mind I don’t mean it.” And then I flipped that from a negative in my mind to a positive thing, seeing it as permission to evolve and change as a person. Being only 25 it’s okay to not have it all figured out.
If you had to distil the entire project into one line or lyric that carries its essence, which would it be?
I’d say it's from the 2nd verse of ‘Peace Maker’, it's “there’s peace in making and changing your own mind”, which to me is funny cause I wrote that song years prior to conceptualising this album.
When working on this record, was there anything you were reading, watching or listening to that inspired any part of it? Or maybe crept into this record unintentionally?
To be honest I don’t know. Probably but it was all subconscious. I think this album just needed to be manifested and I answered when the songs called out.
What’s the first word that comes to mind when you think about having ‘When I Change My Mind I Don’t Mean It’ finally out in the world?
The one word that comes to mind is “Peace”.
Do the songs feel different to you now that an audience is holding them, compared to when they only lived in your notebook or studio?
They feel alive again. Usually when I sit with a song for a long time they lose their luster to me, but having them out in the world and seeing how people connect with them has revitalised them to me.
If someone could only listen to one of your songs to truly understand you as an artist, which track would it be and why?
‘The Mountain Is You’, I don’t know why but everything about that song feels like who I am.
When people describe your sound, what’s the one word you hope they use?
Honestly I’d prefer to let people have their own answer for that one, I don’t care how it’s described, I just hope it connects with people and helps there.
If you could revisit one moment early in your career with the perspective you have now, is there anything you would do differently? If so, what would you do differently?
I wouldn’t change a thing, it all led me here. If anything I wish I would have started trusting my instincts sooner.
When you look back on your earliest songs, what version of yourself do you see?
I see a young kid having fun and making music he thought was awesome. Which is exactly how I see myself right now.
Anna Louise Jones
Image: Louie Nice
If you enjoyed reading this article, please consider buying us a coffee. The money from this pot goes towards the ever-increasing yearly costs of running and hosting the site, and our "Writer Of The Month" cash prize.