Songwriting will always be a personal experience. Having the courage to share some of your deepest thoughts, fears, and failures is something that many of us still struggle to do. Our recent discovery Dusty Edinger is no different but his dedication to the craft has yielded some great results, particularly his latest single “Sometimes People Collide.”
But Dusty Edinger doesn’t just drop a single—he hands you the key to the house where the fight went down. “Sometimes People Collide” is a soulful pop-rock gut-punch crafted solo in his Atlanta home studio back in 2025. No co-writers, no AI crutches, no guest-list ego—just Edinger, his gear, and a relationship that’s one slammed door away from the curb. And damn if it doesn’t hit like the voicemail you replay at 2 a.m repeatedly.
Check Out The AI Assisted Music Video for ‘Sometimes People Collide’
It kicks off with that killer line—”Stop playin’ with my heart now baby, you say you love me but you changed the locks”—Edinger’s voice cracking just enough to sell the sting without overselling the drama. The arrangement stays lean and mean: a punchy drum loop that thumps like a heartbeat on life support, jangly electric guitars that weave in and out like arguments you can’t finish, some keys sprinkled in (and taking an impressive solo), and a bass line that slinks through the verses before locking into a chorus hook that’s pure earworm adrenaline. Melodic enough for radio, raw enough to bruise the soul.
Production-wise, Dusty Edinger’s home-studio wizardry shines: the mix is crisp but lived-in, with just enough room reverb to make every “you don’t know how hard I try” feel like it’s echoing off walls. That mid-song breakdown—where the lyrics paint the picture and an epic keyboard solo jars us into the heart of the story—lands like the moment the yelling stops and we realize this argument could be the last one. As we dive in we hear the feelings of someone who knows passionate love isn’t a Hallmark card. Instead it’s moving targets, slammed doors, and the stubborn hope that maybe this time the collision won’t total the car.
At just over 4 and a half minutes long, “Sometimes People Collide” doesn’t overstay its welcome—it leaves you replaying the wreckage one hook at a time. In a pop-rock landscape bloated with polished heartbreak anthems, Edinger’s DIY authenticity cuts through like a text you shouldn’t send but do anyway. Fire this up when your own locks feel a little too easy to change. You’ll thank him later to know you are not alone.
