Sid Dorey’s music feels like an open wound — not in the sense of pain for pain’s sake, but in the way it dares to stay exposed long enough to heal. On their latest EP, Middle Seat, the Nashville-based indie pop artist captures the essence of becoming: the heartbreak, the surrender, and the radical act of choosing to remain open, even when it hurts.
Dorey first made waves with their debut EP Drama in Doses, a quietly stunning introduction that earned critical praise and a fast-growing fanbase. But Middle Seat is something else entirely. It’s not just a follow-up — it’s a turning point. “I wanted to write something that made room for grief, but also for joy,” Dorey says. “The kind of joy that feels earned.”
And earn it they do. Across five tracks — including the hauntingly confessional Cannibal and the gut-punch of Unlovable — Dorey blends pop sensibility with the emotional weight of musical theatre, crafting an experience that’s as cinematic as it is intimate. Their voice carries with it a rare kind of trustworthiness: gentle but unwavering, wounded but wise.
What sets Dorey apart isn’t just their vocal range or lyrical insight — it’s the deliberate way they use their platform to reflect the lived experience of queer youth navigating love, faith, and chosen family. “The middle seat is uncomfortable,” they say. “But if you’re surrounded by the right people, it’s the best seat in the car.”
It’s a metaphor that sticks — and one that’s already resonating with listeners who’ve seen themselves reflected in Dorey’s work. With this EP, Sid Dorey isn’t just making music — they’re creating a space for those still learning how to exist fully, boldly, and without apology.
In a world that often pushes marginalized voices to the edges, Dorey’s work insists we look straight into the heart of things. And that middle seat? It’s finally getting the love it deserves.
