Alice Teeple
Somebody Someone pulls people into a world of heartache, hope, and hard-won wisdom. The Austin-based alt-pop songwriter has a remarkable voice; a rich, evocative instrument that NPR’s Bob Boilen called “Top Shelf” after their Tiny Desk performance. Contest winner Quinn Christopherson summed it up best: “This is a song I wish I wrote.”
Music has been Somebody Someone’s guiding force since childhood. Growing up in Gulfport, Mississippi, their home swayed to a soundtrack as eclectic as their influences—Fiona Apple’s raw intensity, Nina Simone’s soulful depth, the drama of Weyes Blood and Zola Jesus, and the sun-soaked harmonies of The Beach Boys.
Their mother, a children’s theater teacher, instilled a love for storytelling, while their father’s extensive record collection offered a crash course in classics. That early education led them to NOLA’s legendary Jazz Fest, where they soaked in the city’s electric energy, carrying its creative spark with them ever since.
By ten, they were already stealing the spotlight, performing at weddings and country fairs, even winning a radio contest to open for Blake Shelton at the Crawfish Music Festival. But their path led elsewhere—through theatre at Vassar, a jazz acappella group, and eventually to Austin, where they swapped a steady tech job for the unpredictable magic of music.
For Somebody Someone, the past year was a transformation. Facing hurdles in health, gender identity, and neurodivergence, the artist had a revelation: music had become less of a passion and more of a coping mechanism.
“If other people didn’t, music always had space for my feelings,” they explained. “But I didn’t feel good coming offstage. I felt as if I were made of glass…exposing only the most painful parts of myself was no longer sustainable.”
Determined to rediscover the joy that once fueled their artistry, they packed their bags for songwriting sessions at Texas’ legendary Sonic Ranch and the Johnny Mercer Foundation Songwriters Project. There, in the creative company of kindred spirits, they felt something shift.
“I’ve never been afforded an opportunity to create alongside other serious creatives in a no-strings attached kind of way,” they recount. “It led to so much innovation and discovery of my own craft.”
Now, Somebody Someone is stepping forward with a renewed sense of purpose. Their music remains raw and real, but now, it carries a warmth—a hand extended, an invitation to connect. Their goal? To reclaim the wonder of that kid who once stood in a sleigh and belted Somewhere Over the Rainbow—and to carve out a space where every listener feels safe, seen, and celebrated.
“Hold my hand. We’re going to have some feelings, but we’ll get through it together. It’s a mutual journey.”
Now, Somebody Someone is taking center stage, offering listeners a space to reflect, feel, and, most importantly, connect. The artist reflects upon the video:
“Better is about sharing the same compassion I have for others with myself. It came out of a deep period of personal growth in which I started to grow awareness that I sometimes was trying to love on others and pouring from an empty vessel. I wanted to learn how to fill that cup up so I had more to give and more for myself. When you write a song that feels almost scary to write, you’re on the right track. There’s some deep truth there that needs to be said whether you’ve fully embodied that truth or not. Throughout the process of writing, recording, and eventually releasing the song I feel like I’ve learned how to be my own cheerleader and provide myself with lots of validation. Better is about releasing those negative voices whether internal or external and focusing on what you bring, all of yourself. The bruises, the joys, the tears, and the laughter. It all has a place. And it’s all you.”
Watch the video for Better below:
Meet Hippo!
She’s 9 years old and my soulmate dog. She’s been with me for all my adult life and our bond is deeply emotional. I’ve never had a dog that comes running to lick up my tears when I cry, but that’s my good girl. Her intelligence knows no bounds, she knows how to sing and mostly match pitch, army crawl, spin around, weave through my legs, and so much more. She’s eager to learn and to provide comfort and has saved my life so many times over. The day I went to pick her up, she walked right up to me out of the litter and tapped her foot on my foot and just looked at me like “what’s next.” In my mind, she found me. 🙂
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