Nathaniel Rateliff grew up in Hermann, Missouri, a small town where he first learned to play drums at seven, often found pounding out rhythms in church services alongside his mother, who wrote hymns. It’s a vivid, humble genesis—him and the quiet rituals of faith, music simmering in the background, shaping something that would later burst into a far more restless sound. Loss shadowed his early years when his father died in a car accident in ’93, leaving behind a dusty record collection Nathaniel would come to explore only years later. How much that collection shaped him is unclear; people whisper about its influence, but the connection feels about more than just vinyl grooves.

When he moved to Denver with a childhood friend, Joseph Pope III, things shifted. They formed Born in the Flood, gaining local buzz—not a meteoric rise, but significant enough to headline shows. Still, Nathaniel turned away from bigger-label temptations, heading instead toward stripped-down solo work with rawer, more personal edges. His solo albums from that era carry a quiet weight, often somber and reflective, a stark contrast to the sound he would later carve out with the Night Sweats. That band, born out of a desire to inject soul and energy, surprised everyone when their 2015 debut’s raucous “S.O.B.” went viral—something of a last-ditch effort that found unexpected life.

There’s something almost mercurial about Rateliff’s path. He’s no overnight sensation; the milestones come slow, sometimes uneven, punctuated by restless studio sessions and a hesitance that’s tangible in his music and choices. His collaborations, tours, and even ventures into cannabis culture feel like side notes to an artist who’s searching—not just for success, but maybe for a sound that finally fits the patchy, sometimes tangled story he carries with him.