B-Side Guys

Philadelphia’s Jac Carson has confronted one of life’s most impossible scenarios—watching multiple friends contemplate ending their lives while knowing that every word you offer feels simultaneously essential and insufficient. “Don’t Mind the Ghosts” operates as both love letter and documentation of helplessness, where the desire to say the right thing collides with the recognition that perfect responses don’t exist for imperfect situations.

Carson’s alt-blues approach provides the ideal framework for such emotionally complex material. His Americana influences ground the track in traditions of storytelling that acknowledge life’s fundamental difficulties without offering false comfort. The production choices reflect an understanding that some conversations require musical restraint rather than elaboration—letting the weight of the subject matter drive the emotional impact.

The track’s exploration of inherited trauma feels particularly honest, acknowledging how parental absence and dysfunction create patterns that extend beyond individual responsibility. Carson’s approach suggests that understanding someone’s pain doesn’t require experiencing identical circumstances—sometimes witnessing is enough to generate genuine empathy. His vocal delivery carries the particular exhaustion of someone who’s learned that loving people through crisis is both necessary and emotionally depleting.

What makes “Don’t Mind the Ghosts” compelling is Carson’s willingness to admit his own limitations as helper and friend. His acknowledgment that telling someone “it’ll be alright” feels hollow demonstrates the kind of self-awareness that makes his other attempts at support feel more authentic. The track captures the specific frustration of caring deeply while feeling fundamentally inadequate to the task of saving someone else.

Carson has created something that functions as both tribute to survival and honest assessment of what it means to stand beside someone in their darkest moments. The result feels less like a solution than a testament to the value of simply showing up, proving that sometimes the most helpful thing you can offer is your presence rather than your wisdom.