Life & Work with Mason Pavlos of Ohio

Today we’d like to introduce you to Mason Pavlos.

Hi Mason, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
My first memory of music might honestly be my first memory, period. I’m a baby in a car seat in the back of the car at night, and Alice in Chains’ “Again” is playing. Metallica’s “One” came soon after. As a kid, I’d flip through the CD binder in the car and pick out discs for my mom to play, and Metallica’s *…And Justice for All* was one of my favorites. I wasn’t allowed to touch the albums at home, so I’d sneak downstairs just to look through them.

But the moment music really grabbed me was around fifth grade, when I saw an orchestra at Severance Hall. I felt like I was flying through space in the Millennium Falcon. The emotion, the goosebumps, the storytelling, the images it put in my head—it was almost psychedelic. I’ve basically been chasing that feeling ever since.

As a kid I took drum lessons from a family friend and tried the clarinet, but I was way too hyper to stick with either one. It didn’t really click until high school, when I picked up an acoustic guitar that had been lying around the house. I’d always loved to sing, just never in front of people. Honestly, I still struggle with that sometimes. Eyes, man. They’re a hell of a thing.

Around the same time, I was studying digital art and design at Polaris Career Center. I’d wanted to be an artist for a long time, and most of what I did growing up was traditional—painting, sketching, pen, charcoal, whatever I could get my hands on. Digital art was part of it too, but I mainly chose that program because it was the art program available to me, and we still drew and worked traditionally there too. I’d also been writing since I was a kid and even won a few poetry contests in middle school. Music eventually became the place where all of those things came together.

In 2019 I joined my first band, The Scoffs, a punk and rock-and-roll band where I brought in more of a blues edge. Blues is in my blood, alongside Hendrix, folk, Americana, country and punk. We played all over Cleveland—Mahall’s, Brothers Lounge, basements, house shows, places like the Birdhouse, which I’d still argue is one of the best house venues in Northeast Ohio.

In 2023 I joined October Beach Club and started my own band, Soultarp. A big reason I started Soultarp was because I wanted to play Brite Winter so badly. Neither band got accepted, but it’s still a goal of mine.

That’s also when I got serious about drums. I’d practiced here and there over the years whenever there happened to be a kit around, but this time I built my own out of whatever I could find. I called it “the Kit of God.”

Some random guy on the street had most of a drum set stuffed in a black garbage bag and offered it to me for twenty bucks. I asked him what kind of drums they were, and he showed me the badge: Ludwig.

Hell yeah.

I tracked down the rest piece by piece until I had a kick-ass five-piece. From then on, I played drums for hours every day on top of guitar, songwriting and band practice. Between two bands, sometimes three if you count my solo stuff, while still having to work, I was constantly juggling about five things at once.

That December, after opening for a touring band at the Beachland Ballroom and connecting with them, I took a Greyhound down to Nashville for the first time.

In 2024 I spent some time in Los Angeles, built my own guitar, formed The Terrestrials back home, and played with Yacobucci out of Columbus, which I’m still grateful for.

In July 2025, I moved to Nashville for real.

I had almost no money, no support and a borrowed guitar, but I played every open mic and every stage I could find. Eventually I became a regular at the same open mics week after week. I didn’t have anywhere to rehearse, a PA, or much equipment of my own, so those stages became my practice space.

Sometimes I’d write something completely on the spot. Sometimes I’d try an idea for the first time in front of a crowd.

That’s where I learned the real work: performing under pressure and trusting myself enough to improvise. You write bad songs until they turn into good ones. You play the good ones and listen for the weak spots—the places where something’s missing—by watching how people respond. You get comfortable performing in rooms where you never know who’s listening. And you meet as many people as you possibly can.

Mainly, I did what I’m best at: surviving.

Nashville was also where I finally finished and released my first book, *Ramblings from a Mad Man, Vol. 1*, a collection of poetry and writing I’d been building for years. I put it out independently through Gumroad. That meant a lot to me because writing had always existed alongside the music, and for the first time I had actually taken that part of myself and turned it into something complete that other people could read.

Right before my lease ran out, I recorded my single “Time Machine” in three days with one mic, one guitar and Reaper. I played the drums and guitar myself and even used the guitar for the bass parts. It came out this past June, and you can find it on Spotify under Raehvyn.

It wasn’t apart of the plan to return but due to circumstances I came back to Cleveland this July.

The last few years haven’t exactly been easy. I’ve worked construction, hardscaping and painting to stay afloat, and right now I’m helping build a local real estate startup called FlipOhio.

But music is still the thing that makes me feel most alive.

Next up is building a home studio and finishing a full record—something better produced, bigger, and hopefully made with other talented people instead of doing absolutely everything myself. I’m also planning to start reaching out to record labels and people in the industry who could potentially help make that happen sooner.

At the end of the day, though, it’s pretty simple.

I want to play guitar. I want to sing. I want to make records.

And I want to make music that feels like medicine to people.

Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
No, it hasn’t been a smooth road by any means. The biggest struggle, by far, has been money. Everything keeps getting more expensive, and when you’re trying to build a music career while working whatever jobs you can just to get by, it’s tough. In Nashville I was borrowing a guitar, had sold my amp, and had no PA or rehearsal space. I’ve worked construction, hardscaping and painting just to keep the lights on. Honestly, I don’t need much. Even five or ten grand would let me get the record done and do what I need to do. Doing so much of it alone has made it harder too, since there’s no team or label behind me, just me figuring it out as I go. But it is what it is. The road still isn’t smooth, and I’m still going. I could do this all day. If I’m going down, I’m going down swinging.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Right now I write, record and produce everything myself. I made “Time Machine” that way, and I have a demo called “Stepping Stone” up on YouTube, plus plenty of unreleased demos. It doesn’t always have to be a one-man show, though. I’d love to work with other people, especially more experienced musicians and producers, to get my vision out faster and make something bigger than I could alone.

I don’t like boxes or labels, but at the core it’s rock and roll. It has a psychedelic edge, and the goal is to take you to Mars and back, or at least to wherever I’m at. I think music is the language of the universe, and it can heal people. I write a lot from personal experience, but lately I’ve been writing more stories about specific situations. I pull from my old poem book and lyric notebooks I’ve kept over the years. Whatever the song is, I want it to connect with someone and touch them the way music has touched me. When it does that, that’s the magic.

What I’m most proud of is that I still get to do this. I’ve been at it for over ten years. I still have my hands and my voice, and some days that scares me, because nothing’s guaranteed. Right now I’m playing an $80 Rogue acoustic because I don’t even have a proper guitar, but you make it work. I’m proud of the guitar I built and painted myself, since it came out beautiful on my first try. I’m proud of releasing my single “Time Machine” and my poetry book, *Ramblings From a Mad Man, Vol. 1*, both long-time goals of mine, and of the talented people I’ve gotten to play with along the way.

If we knew you growing up, how would we have described you?
I was the quiet kid, shy and usually off in my own head. People can be pretty mean, and I always felt like I was on the outside looking in. I was a loner, a daydreamer, and a bit of a troublemaker when the mood struck. Mostly I was a tinkerer. If something had screws, I took it apart to see how it worked, and I built my first computer around age 10. When I wasn’t inside building something, I was out on my bike until the streetlights came on. Around 10 or 11, books and writing took over. That’s when I started filling notebooks, and I never really stopped. Writing and riding are still how I keep my head on straight. When I go too long without them, the wires start to tangle.

My parents are both from Cleveland.

Pricing:

• Ramblings From a Mad Man, Vol. 1 (poetry collection), $10 on Gumroad
• “Time Machine : Raehvyn” streaming free on Spotify
• Book shows: masonpavlos@proton.me

Contact Info:

• Website: making one as we speak
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/masonpavlos/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MasonPavlos/videos
• Other: https://open.spotify.com/artist/4T4bnPqSyxgTQksdNYw2u5?si=hQI-nrkuSuehxKRtG-EbGA