There is a moment in the record making process, where the music is solely your own. It is at that point that I usually get stuck battling the doubts of product quality versus investment. Is the art worthy of… well, I would call them blood, sweat, and tears, save for the fact that each moment is pure bliss. Even in the angst and frustration of creating something, I find joy. Somehow, the “godammit’s” and the “fuckin hell’s” provide a much needed catharsis. When all the creative chaos finally comes to order, you’re still standing there weighing the value of something truly beautiful. And again, for the moment, the songs are yours alone. So here I sit, a few days away from taking that journey and putting it on display for the world.
I promised myself in 2019 I would invest in my art, but this adventure began in the summer of 2018. Countless voice memos, jam sessions, acoustic riffs, lyrics scrawled on notebook paper, drinks, missed meals, miles, shows, and conversations were documented and accounted for on these songs. They are the culmination of my life on this earth. They have the fingerprints of the humans I am most indebted to for their kindness, wisdom, skill, influence, and friendship. They have been re-written and replaced and refined to a standard I could have never hoped of achieving alone. They perfectly encompass the golden moments of the stories we all tell. Not a manufactured, disingenuous, re-telling of our experiences, but real, tangible memories. Times I laughed. Times I cried. Times we woke up together. Times we chased a dream down the west coast. Times I drank too much. Times I sat around and wondered “who will remember this singular moment when we grow old or apart.”
I set out to write the soundtrack to my favorite memories. I have always heard that good things take time. In which case, these songs are going to be a damn good thing.