Neil Haverty Unveils “Some Days,” a Soulful Meditation on Mood and Motivation

Toronto songwriter and composer Neil Haverty is no stranger to exploring the textures of life’s contradictions. As frontman of the genre-bending alt-folk ensemble Bruce Peninsula and an award-nominated screen composer, Haverty has built a career on pushing boundaries while holding on to the raw intimacy that makes his work so deeply human. Now, with the release of “Some Days,” he continues this journey, delivering a soulful, synth-driven single that reflects on the quiet pressures of daily life, the aspirations we wake up to, and the necessity of grace when things don’t quite go to plan.

Hitting a rare sweet spot between indie soul, alt-R&B, and synth-pop, “Some Days” feels like a meditation in motion. The track brims with soaring strings performed by Mika Posen (Agnes Obel, Timber Timbre), jagged and broken arpeggiated synths, and what Haverty describes as “drunk” drums – all layered under his bold yet tender vocal delivery. Produced and mixed with Leon Taheny (Owen Pallett, Fucked Up), the single is a study in balance: analog warmth meets digital edge, brash confidence meets quiet restraint.

For Haverty, “Some Days” is about holding space for contradiction in its most human form: our moods, our energy, and the choices we make in the space between. “I wanted to acknowledge the patterns and discrepancies in how a person can approach each day,” Haverty explains. “Some days are just off. Other days are full of promise and brimming with energy. I’m always interested in the spectrum of variables underneath a topic, and mood is an especially broad playing field for that.”

Lyrically, the song captures that restless tension between self-discipline and self-trust – wondering whether today is the day to rise to the challenge, or whether it’s the day to stay in bed and let the world pass by. In his typically self-aware style, Haverty grounds the song’s existential pull in an almost humorous practicality. “I sometimes like to remind myself that society doesn’t expect anything from me by default, except maybe that I get dressed before I leave my house,” he elaborates. “When you reset the expectations of your day to just putting your clothes on, everything else you do from there is a bonus.”

It’s this blend of candor and reflection that makes “Some Days” resonate so strongly. Haverty doesn’t shy away from struggle, but he doesn’t glorify it either. Instead, he gestures toward a softer kind of resilience – one that acknowledges the ebb and flow of energy, mood, and motivation, while still seeking small moments of triumph.

“Some Days” also highlights Haverty’s deft hand as a composer. Known for his work in screen music, he recently earned a 2025 Canadian Screen Award nomination for his score to the documentary series Who Owns The World. That cinematic sensibility carries over into his solo work, where sound design and arrangement often feel as important as melody. The sweeping strings and fractured synths in “Some Days” don’t just accompany the lyrics – they mirror the song’s themes, embodying both the dissonance and harmony of daily living.

Best known as the creative force behind Bruce Peninsula – a choral collective whose sprawling arrangements and genre-bending sound have earned over 5 million streams and a Polaris Prize long-listing – Haverty has long thrived in the space where experimentation meets accessibility. His work straddles the line between avant-garde and approachable, inviting listeners to wrestle with complexity while never losing sight of melody and emotion.

With “Some Days,” Haverty continues to carve out his own distinct path as a solo artist. The single marks his third release of 2025, with a fourth already on the horizon for October. Together, these songs paint a portrait of an artist in full stride – unafraid of contradiction, but equally committed to clarity, honesty, and the pursuit of beauty in unlikely places.

At its core, “Some Days” is an anthem for those who wake up unsure of which self they’ll meet when the morning comes. It doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does offer a kind of reassurance: that both the ambitious days and the listless ones are part of being human. In a world that so often demands consistency, Haverty reminds us that inconsistency has its own kind of grace.