Sloan Struble doesn’t make music to match the mood—he makes it to challenge it. As the voice and vision behind Dayglow, the 23-year-old artist has quietly built a career on feel-good music that doesn’t apologize for being happy. In a culture that often confuses gloom for depth, his optimism stands out.
“I’m self-aware that it’s definitely happy music, but it’s naturally what I make,” Struble said. “When I sit down to make music, I think it’s therapeutic for me and I try to make songs that melodically lift you up.”
That impulse drives everything he creates. He’s not chasing trends or following a formula. He’s just doing what feels honest—writing and producing every Dayglow song himself, usually from the quiet of his bedroom. No label tricks. No big-name co-writers. Just him, a bunch of instruments and a vision he’s been honing since childhood.
“It’s treacherous territory to make serious optimistic music,” he said. “Because it’s just almost always seen as an ignorant thing. But this is something I wanted to try with Dayglow. I wanted my music to both be really fun and be taken seriously.”
It’s a tension he’s leaned into rather than avoided. While plenty of indie artists embrace melancholy or irony, Struble is more interested in music that feels good on purpose. He’s not trying to make something perfect—he’s trying to make something real.
“There’s a time and place for everything,” he said. “I listen to sad music sometimes. But for what I make, I want it to lift people up and make them want to dance.”
That sense of joy isn’t a gimmick—it’s baked into how he works. Struble is a self-described production nerd, obsessed with tone, texture and melody. He’s constantly thinking about how the music he makes in his room will sound on stage. His friends double as his touring band, playing on the same gear he records with. He likes it that way.
“I love making music more than anything else,” he said. “It’s what I do most naturally and where I find the most joy in this whole thing.”
That joy shows up in the details. He’s meticulous but loose, serious about the work but not precious about the process. Even as the crowds get bigger and the reach expands, he’s kept the setup small and the motivation personal.
“I really am still making the music in my bedroom,” he said. “It’s not a marketing tactic or a brand angle. I really, truly am alone most of the time doing this thing.”
There’s something about that setup that still excites him. While the music industry can push artists to bring in teams and chase scale, Struble finds meaning in keeping things simple and clear. For him, working alone isn’t a limitation—it’s a way to stay honest.
“It’s really nice to have an unfiltered version of my vision,” he said. “I have a strong idea of what something should be. And when you work solo, you don’t have to compromise.”
He’s quick to admit it can be exhausting. There are times when having a full team sounds appealing. But there’s also something rewarding about doing it himself and knowing every detail came from one place.
“It’s more interesting for someone to watch a new album come out knowing it’s from one person,” he said. “And for me, it’s just fun. It’s cool to see myself grow and change.”
That growth hasn’t always been smooth. Struble is young, and this came fast. He went to college for advertising, hoping to find a back door into the music industry. But as he kept releasing songs from his dorm room, Dayglow took off quicker than he expected. He dropped out after one year.
“I don’t know what other job I could do,” he said. “I mean, maybe something in marketing. That’s what I was studying. But I wanted to be in music. And when it started working, everything just shifted.”
The shift hasn’t changed how he makes music. If anything, it’s made him more committed to his process. And while he’s surrounded by a solid team now—friends, managers, live players—he still makes time to get lost in the parts of music that hooked him in the first place.
“My reason for making things has always been about having fun and not worrying about the algorithm or the industry side of things,” he said. “That’s still how I do it. The process hasn’t changed.”
That simplicity is part of Dayglow’s appeal. The music is crisp, catchy and full of warmth, but it doesn’t feel manufactured. It sounds like it was made by someone who actually enjoys making it.
“I’ve been told that I sold out because the new stuff sounds better,” he said, laughing. “Which is kind of the nicest accidental compliment. I didn’t change anything. I’m just getting better.”
Struble’s not trying to be a poster child for DIY purity. If the time comes when it makes sense to collaborate or expand, he’s open. But for now, the joy is still in the independence. The fact that he can create something that feels good—and share it with people who feel something because of it—is more than enough.
“More people care now, which is really cool,” he said. “But to be honest, I’m not making the music for them. I’m still just doing it for fun.”
