Photo credit Tyler Squires
Tell us about your tour vehicle. Any notable breakdown stories?
I drive a 2010 Ford F-150 Super Cab. It’s quite a long truck with a camper cover over the bed. It’s my everyday vehicle and my touring vehicle. It has 239,000 miles on it currently. I love it very much and it’s my home away from home!
In the last four years of touring, I’ve had to replace the air conditioner, which went out on an August tour through Tennessee, South Carolina, and Georgia. It was 90-95 degrees every day. At gas stations, we were getting cups of ice and putting handfuls of cubes down our shirts because it was so hot. We were driving 70 miles per hour, on the highway, with the windows all the way down. I also bought several USB-powered fans, which didn’t help at all.
I had to replace the alternator in 2023, which went out in the middle of a fairly busy intersection in Memphis. I was able to call a dear friend of mine to jump the truck, but I was standing in the intersection waving traffic around me for at least 20 to 25 minutes. A couple cops drove by and didn’t stop. But they definitely saw me. I’m just grateful to have friends in Memphis! Otherwise, the roadside service estimated a three hour wait. We still made it on time to our show that night!
I’ve also had to replace: the battery, two cracked engine manifolds, all spark plugs, an engine sensor, two tire sensors, the brakes, the tires, and the transmission filter. I’ve had the transmission flushed and a complete engine tune-up as well—not to mention countless oil changes and several car rentals during repairs. Touring is a labor of love and all my money goes right back into it!
After an attempted break-in in Birmingham, Alabama, I had a third party alarm system installed. And beyond that, my dad’s friend made and welded a super heavy-duty, lockable iron cage-like gate—the exact dimensions of the camper cover and truck bed opening—and bolted it to the frame of the vehicle. He was kind enough to build it for free, as a favor to my dad. So, when you open the back, there’s basically a vault door between the tailgate and the gear. I feel a lot safer about traveling with my gear now. But we always unload everything of value at the end of the night anyway.
How do you eat cheaply and/or healthy while on tour?
It’s a lot of Taco Bell and Jimmy John’s. I’m vegetarian, so these are the easiest and best-tasting quick meals to modify. Eating healthy is tough on the road when time is always tight and it’s difficult to keep food. When we do have the time, it’s nice to load up on greens at a sit-down restaurant or hit a grocery store. Every now and again, we get to stay with a friend’s parents and that’s usually the best breakfast of the tour.
How many strings do you break in a typical year? How much does it cost to replace them?
I usually break between three and six strings in a year. It’s not often I break a string, especially considering I play every day. I play 10s and 11s though, which are more medium gauge, so they’re a little heavier and harder to break. I’m usually having to replace my strings due to rust (from sweat and oil) more often than I am having to replace my strings due to breaking them.
I use D’adarrio strings on my acoustic and my electric guitars, which run me about $12 to $14 a pack. And I replace my strings every four to eight weeks on my touring guitars.
Where do you rehearse?
We rehearse in the basement of my house, which isn’t grounded or up to code. So we have to use windscreens on the vocal microphones to keep from being shocked on the lips while holding a guitar. It’s fun! It’s a pretty sacred and haunted basement though. Many bands and people I love have rehearsed in the Eastwood basement. It is my happy place, communing with the past and inventing the future of new tunes. I’ve got the space sounding as best it can, and the low ceilings help. The walls are this disgusting bright teal, a color which I haven’t—in all the time I’ve rented this house—figured out why anyone would want.
What was the title and a sample lyric from the first song that you wrote?
I actually couldn’t tell you! I was 14 years old when I wrote my first song. I keep the book of songs I wrote that year somewhere at my parents’ house, but I really don’t remember much from it.
Describe your first gig.
My first musical performance—outside church or piano recitals—was in Marble Falls, Texas at Main Street Coffee House, which doesn’t exist anymore. I was supposed to play for two whole hours in exchange for tips, a drink, and a free pastry. I had only prepared 10 songs, so I played them all about three times. I was probably 12 or 13 years old. I’m pretty sure I covered John Mayer. I know for sure I covered Willie Nelson. There was no one there.
What was your last day job? What was your favorite day job?
My last non-music job is my current non-music job and my favorite non-music job. When I’m not touring, I work at the Belcourt Theatre, a non-profit film theatre here in Nashville. The Belcourt programs new releases—mostly produced by independent distributors—as well as retrospectives and classics, with regular screenings on 35mm. It’s the best non-music job I’ve ever had. I love movies so much and I love getting to watch them for free. It’s a great place to work!
How has your music-related income changed over the past 5-10 years? What do you expect it to look like 5-10 years from now?
In the last five years, since Covid, touring and music-related income has steadily accounted for a larger percentage of my yearly earnings. In 2021, music was only about 20% of my yearly income, but now it’s more like 60%. Ideally, in the next five to 10 years, I would love to be able to pay my rent and stay afloat just from touring, writing songs, and making music. I’m a lifer, though! I’m in it whether or not I see a dime.
What one thing do you know now that you had wished you knew when you started your career in music?
I wish that I knew that there isn’t much reward in perfectionism or being overly precious. The more you can record totally live, the better. When writing, the faster you can get a song out, the better. I’ve spent way too much time editing as I go—instead of letting it breathe. I’ve spent way too much time getting things just right. I’ve found I ought to take myself less seriously!