Raised in the small town of Portsmouth, Ohio, Garrett’s music emerges from the shadows of a place deeply scarred by America’s opioid crisis, industrial decline spewing pills upon the populace. Snarling gnarly, Garrett’s music feels like an intimate confrontation with this personal and regional anguish— traditional hymns disfigured by layers of abrasive feedback, jagged guitars, trembling vocals, and electronic elements twisted and distorted, leaving them choked out in the gutter—raw expressions of alienation that squat squamous upon the soul. His latest album Purity on Orange Milk Records is a maximalist attempt to deal with discovering a neighbor’s dead body, an experience which “eviscerated my sense of safety and my feeling of home.”