Every once in a while, someone you’ve never met comes to your show, and while you’re painfully rocking out or soulfully showing off, he or she takes some lovely pictures of you. I had this experience during my gig at Arlene’s Grocery on the night of Friday, February 26. She calls herself Quirky NY Chick and she took these pictures of my solo set. Thanks Quirky NY Chick, L.R. Adams.
It got cold fast, didn’t it? Well, at least in New York it did. It’s raining today, so I figure I’ll take the ol’ blog out for a spin. For the most part, things have been pretty fast-moving and most of all fun. Last week, I played Asylum down in D.C. I took a Boltbus from Penn Station for 17 bucks. Not so bad, eh? Seems like that’s the only part of the economy that’s been working in our favor lately. I pulled in on a Saturday and took the next two days off for a little D.C. vacation. I haven’t been there since I was 12 or something like that. It’s hard to pinpoint when you did certain things in your childhood years. They all seem to run together somehow, or you end up dividing them up into pockets of time, like your 4 years in high school or the years before you went to Europe. I ended up doing every touristy thing you could do in Washington minus the tours. Chilling outside the Capitol was incredible. It sucks to think that such awful people work in such a beautiful architectural display. I mean, they’re not all bad, some have good intentions, but greed is contagious, and I can’t trust anyone just because they were voted into office. I feel politicians today need to take lie detector and morality tests before they can take office. Holding office is like a get out of jail free pass for most politicians and they’re has got to be a method to weed out the easily corruptible.
Anyway, the show at Asylum was awesome. Luckily my good friend, Matt, lives three blocks away from Asylum so It only took a hop, skip and a jump to get there. A trendy, young D.C. crowd showed up and a couple sang along. I’m looking forward for my next busride down and playing there again. Until then, it’s all NYC for me and the band, except for a show out in L.A. in January. Be well everybody. See ya.
A lot has happened since the inception of Warpold Wine. The idea began in San Francisco…I was house sitting for a friend, was situated at least 400 miles from anyone I knew, and all I had was a duffel bag full of clothes, a notebook and my guitar. I was six months removed from college and was in the midst of a creative burst, an especially sincere songwriting burst. I had dealt with a death in the family not long before and it was hard for all of us, especially mom. We learned to cope by putting aside our individual interests and stayed together for a couple of months. My sister visited my mother frequently and my dad never left mom’s side. I stuck around for a few months and after a while realized it was time to figure “it” out. While at home with the family, it felt like everyday I had a fresh song idea, and I certainly had no trouble finishing it within the day that I started it. It was a great feeling of not just release, but as if there was a force moving through me, unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced.
Songwriting was a thing I thought was to be left to the few geniuses I considered to be worthwhile listens. There are many in my list (Bob Dylan, Stephen Malkmus, Joanna Newsom, the Beatles etc.) I began writing songs in high school as a laugh, only to continue it in college for cathartic reasons. My love and focus was jazz and classical guitar. I had played professionally in a number of bands as a guitarist, bassist and backup singer, and had delegated songwriting to the corner of my consciousness. I was having too much fun as a sideman to think otherwise. However, after a while my sideman duties slowed to a screeching halt when two bands I was in broke up leaving everyone unhappy and, especially for me, made me have to reassess my values and aspirations as a musician.
With my ego broken and my pockets empty I, of course, turned to music. But this time, with a much more needy, organic approach. No more shedding music for anybody else but myself. Life is short, and sometimes nasty and we got to make what we can of it. Turns out what I ended up doing…was write songs. I remembered how much I loved to sing my songs in coffee houses back home when I was just a teenager. It grounded me. Made me feel strong and poetic. I naturally turned back to this medium. An old flame was then rekindled.
I didn’t quit my other studies though. I continued to practice jazz and classical guitar, went to jam sessions, did the hang and all that. It was all good. But, something was in me now, and it was starting to burn. While in San Francisco, I had the fortune of being invited to record one of my original compositions on Albert Rivera’s debut album entitled “Re-Introduction.” I boarded a plane back to New York and headed to a recording studio in Brooklyn. The band on that recording session was so killing I couldn’t believe I was there. Ralph Peterson, Christian Scott, Luques Curtis, Zaccai Curtis, Nick Roseboro and Jimmy Greene. I will never forget what Ralph Peterson said to me that day. I was feeling a bit nervous just because it was my first legit jazz recording session and I think Ralph could tell. He said to me, “Hey man, are you a fan of the Matrix?” I said, “Sure.” He said, “Do you remember what the Oracle says to Neo when they first meet?” I had no clue. “She says, ‘You got the gift, but it looks like your waiting for something’” He then exclaimed, “STOP WAITING!”
Since that day I worked very hard at writing and putting some of my songs into an album. I spent the better part of a year living in Groningen, Holland, gigging with musicians from around the world and recording my tunes. I am quite pleased with the outcome. My experience in Holland was very unique and I am very lucky to have had the opportunity of working with all the great musicians I met along the way. I look forward to returning to Europe and touring, but right now New York is still my home, so come out to the show!
