By Zach Collier
There’s a fine line between writing about a place and reducing it. Too often, Utah ends up flattened into caricature due to its unique position in America as one of the only states founded by a minority religious group. There are very strong opinions about Utah, so art about it is usually full of punchlines or propaganda.
But Cade Mower’s “Moroni” doesn’t fall into that trap. It lives somewhere more honest. More observant. More human.
“I grew up in Bluffdale,” Mower tells me. “I wanted to write a song about the place where I grew up that really represented it in a cool way.”
That intention shows up immediately. The opening lines reference the prison that used to sit at the Point of the Mountain. Not as a metaphor, not as social commentary, just as something that exists. Something you’d see regularly if you grew up here. The chorus references the Angel Moroni, perched atop Latter-day Saint temples, and makes it less of a religious statement and more of a landmark – a symbol woven into the skyline whether you believe in it or not.
That restraint is what makes the song work.
“I had a conversation with a friend who is a fellow Utahn and we often spoke about how Utah is one of the coolest places in the world and hugely underrepresented in music,” Mower explains. “‘Moroni’ just poured out of me about as fast as I could write it down after a passionate conversation with my friend. Obviously the LDS religion is a big part of Utah culture – I couldn’t leave it out. But I also wanted to keep it neutral and authentic. So my mindset going into the write was, ‘just write what I observed in my upbringing.’ I didn’t want to take a side or offend anyone and I felt as long as I stuck to my real, genuine observations, I could feel good about the song.”
It’s a deceptively simple philosophy, but it’s also the difference between propaganda and storytelling.
If the acoustic version of “Moroni” felt like a rustic, late-night reflection, the full-band release that dropped in January hits like the Union Pacific train. Bigger. Fuller. Still grounded.
The shift wasn’t originally part of some grand rollout strategy. It was reactive.
“I originally released a video we made of the song and it sort of blew up,” he remembers. “With close to 400k hits on the first video, I had a lot of people asking for the song. The best version I had was the audio we used for the video, so I just pulled that from the video and released it. I wasn’t expecting the song to get the traction it did, so I was underprepared but wanted to release something as soon as possible – so that’s what I did.”
That version – as raw, immediate, and a little unpolished as it was –did its job. But it wasn’t the full picture.
“The second release represents what I really had in mind.”
That’s where things get interesting.
The acoustic version still exists as a blueprint. It’s what you’ll hear if you catch Mower live: one voice, one guitar, nothing to hide behind. The full-band version, built alongside Nashville collaborators Alex Saddic and Justin Eckerd, adds dimension without losing that core.
“I don’t want my releases to sound dramatically different from what you’ll get live,” he says. “The second version kept the bones and authenticity, while having a couple additions that tastefully added some more color. This version could be easily reproduced live with a band and the acoustic performance is still in there front and center.”
That balance between polish and honesty is harder than it sounds. The recording process itself was slow and intentional, with a lot of trial and error. One small but telling detail: Mower rewrote a line in the second verse.
“The old line felt weak and didn’t align with the rest of the song,” he admits. “That is a probably the biggest reason I prefer the second version.”
Mower’s growing momentum as a songwriter has come from nearly a decade of hard work away from Utah: seven years in Austin, three in Nashville. If Utah shaped his voice, Nashville sharpened his understanding of the game.
“It’s a business,” he says plainly. “And it’s really about who you know. I don’t mean that in a negative way at all. If you want to make it in this town, you’ve gotta earn the respect of the people that have been grinding it out here for years. The only way to do that, as far as I can tell, is grind it out yourself. Get in the trenches and put in the work.”
Cade’s observations about Nashville are astute, and he doesn’t romanticize it. To him, there are no shortcuts. It’s all about staying in the room long enough for people to notice. “Eventually you’ll earn the respect of the right people and you will have your day,” he says. “I think it’s the people that stick around that make it. That’s why I don’t intend to go anywhere any time soon, as much as I miss home.”
That ethos carries into one of the more unexpected moments in his catalog: a live recording of songwriter Cody Cannon’s “Broken Window Serenade” that’s quietly racked up around a quarter million streams.
Even he doesn’t fully understand why.
“This has been a massive mystery to me as to why it’s had the success it has,” he says. “I will say this: when I play this song live, it seems to really have an effect on crowds.”
The recording came out of a DIY session in a Texas feed store – an old firehouse from the 1800s. The album art is actually an artist’s rendition of the actual building. They set up right in the middle of business hours: Mower, a guitar, a harmonica, and a couple of trusted collaborators, including songwriter Colin Boutwell, fiddle player Kurt Baumer (who toured with Lonestar), and engineer Claiborne Myers.
“Recording those songs was such a great experience,” he says. “The Firehouse Feedstore people were so gracious.”
It’s cool to see a beginning breakout moment for Mower. It’s evidence that if he keeps grinding, he’ll have his day. He’s clearly doing something right.
“As to what resonates so deeply with listeners, I can’t tell you,” Mower says. “It’s a huge mystery to me. Perhaps just the rawness of it. One guy with a harmonica and a guitar pouring his heart out.”
Sometimes that’s all it takes.
Make sure to follow Cade Mower on Instagram. You can stream “Die Rich” featuring Colin Boutwell below!