Photo credit: Pat Piaseki
Tell us about your tour vehicle. Any notable breakdown stories?
The tour vehicle can be a van, SUV, train, plane or my Toyota. It depends on where I land and how many people are with me on the show or on the tour. But if I’m in Northeast or New England it is most likely my highlander with 75K on it. I fear that if I speak of breakdowns it will curse a breakdown. I don’t have any real horror stories other than rental agreements not being read correctly and vans getting returned at a cost of twice the tour income.
How do you eat cheaply and/or healthy while on tour?
Number one rule is to choose hungry over fast food on the highway. I’ve held strong to that rule for my whole career. My spirit can carry me if I’m hungry but my body can’t fight processed meat and perform.
The trick is trail mix and water with me at all times. That gives me a baseline.
How many strings do you break in a typical year? How much does it cost to replace them?
Maybe a dozen? I try to change them out regularly, and thanks to the good people at Ernie Ball and their sponsorship, it is possible for me to do that without having to push them until they break. I like my acoustic strings worn in and I like electric strings for about 14 hours of live performance time. But I will push them to 20 or even 25. If I stick to that then I rarely bust one.
Where do you rehearse?
Wait… people have rehearsal space? My band is a Rolodex of world class players. A list that could fill this article. They are all professionals who could be out with another artist at any time. So, I get the best people I can find and we rehearse at soundcheck. They know my catalogue. We have hours of past show time together. We rehearse by listening. We rehearse by becoming Voltron on stage. Rehearsal time and cost feel like a luxury. The immediacy, honesty, and acute skill in everyone’s playing is what makes the live show special.
What was the title and a sample lyric from the first song that you wrote?
I only remember the first song that I thought was possibly decent and it’s called “I have to get you off of my mind”. It came from some simple truth. “It’s Tuesday… already… 22nd of July.. and I have to get you off of my mind.” The song built and carried me to my first album, Goodbye Red Bullet. All the songs on it came after this one. Anything before this song has been burned or relegated to my own forgetfulness to protect myself.
Describe your first gig.
An after school mini fest behind our school freshman year. Our band was called Red Tide. In the band was my friend Ed Jurdi, now of The Band of Heathens. We are still both going today. We closed our set by throwing Juicy Fruit at the audience- AKA our friends.
What was your last day job? What was your favorite day job?
My last one was running an alderman’s campaign in Somerville MA. I was down on my luck after my first album and road exhaustion. A friend had a brother who worked in politics and needed help. The next day I was a campaign manager. We lost, but then I signed a record deal.
My favorite non music job does not exist, but I would love to work in a small book store that also sells vinyl when I’m an old man.
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 my 15-20 year career, it has never been stable. That’s not what you signed up for. There has never been steady ground. This is true throughout history for the arts but I would argue that the exponential rate of change is tyrannically relentless at present. We are all feeling it in every walk of life. I think the push back starts with artists. Not just in the way we create and what we write about but also in how we connect through the sharing of the art.
When all of our songs are entwined on the same platforms as bro-podcasting, supplements and gadget ads then we are allowing the work to diminish before it fulfills its role as a binding agent for our humanity. Years from now I hope more artists slow down the measurement of digital tracking in exchange for prioritizing human connection.
What one thing do you know now that you had wished you knew when you started your career in music?
That is a tough one. If I go back and I kill one butterfly by accident, I could destroy what I have now. There is no better way through to the present than the way I came. I’ve seen people with more perceived success unhappier than me. This whole business and everyone around you will always tell you it is not enough. Not enough tickets sold, streams, name recognition, legacy, money and on and on. But the truth is, and maybe what I would tell myself in the beginning, butterfly be damned, you are enough. We are enough.