When I asked Bo Staloch what he always brings on tour, he didn’t hesitate: “The Nintendo Switch.” Honestly, fair. You can only stare at a green-room wall for so long before Mario starts sounding like a necessary member of the touring team. During our conversation at Austin City Limits, Staloch talked about vulnerable songwriting, learning to trust himself, and the strange rhythm of life on the road. His next chapter includes deeply personal music and, apparently, a fully justified gaming habit. Asked what fans can expect from his upcoming EP, Too Big, Too Big, Staloch answered, “A lot of vulnerability.” He wants to keep pushing himself to be as human and honest as possible. For him, music’s most special quality is the opportunity to share a piece of your own story and hope someone else connects with it. He also described growing throughout the process of making this project. That honesty wasn’t always easy to record. When I asked which song had been the most emotionally challenging, he chose “Masks,” a track he described as especially close to him. The difficulty came from feeling its emotions so strongly in the moment. He called it “the biggest gut punch,” which is both an intriguing preview and my cue to avoid scheduling the first listen immediately before anything requiring emotional stability. With a headline tour planned for February, Staloch is excited to bring these songs into a room with listeners. He spoke enthusiastically about live music, the musicians beside him, and the chance to connect with more people. It’s easy to focus on the performance itself, but his answer centered on the exchange happening around it: sharing something personal and having another person meet you there. Writing and releasing music has also taught him to trust his instincts. “If something feels good, it’s probably good,” he said. He explained that hesitation deserves attention, too. If something doesn’t feel right, there’s usually a reason. Learning to listen to those signals has become an important part of his creative process. Then we reached the Nintendo Switch portion of the conversation, where touring suddenly sounded a lot less like a glamorous montage. Staloch described days spent rushing to reach a venue, only to arrive and discover hours of waiting ahead. Somehow, all that downtime still leaves you exhausted. Hotel rooms and green rooms become familiar places to fill the gaps. His description made touring sound like a group project where everyone says “hurry up,” then the assignment refuses to load. That’s where the Switch earns its place in his luggage. It gives him something to do while waiting for the part of the day everyone came for. What stayed with me was how comfortably those answers sat beside each other. Staloch can care deeply about making honest music, feel grateful for the stage, and still get bored backstage. As he prepares for his next release and tour, he’s bringing a growing trust in himself, songs that ask him to be vulnerable, and one essential entertainment system. Someone, please make sure the charger gets packed.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at St. John's chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.