Album

“November” was a dark album, man. I attempted to paint a picture of some heavy experiences with the words and music. Close relationships with friends and a girl I was dating at the time, man, those were the subjects. The canvas of the heart, dude, it was brilliant red, like a sunset. Justice and equity … Read moreNovember

Man, you dig the Evolution of the Pig, and let me tell ya, it’s like the hippest trip through my own wild symphony. R.E.M., man, they’re the cats who set the fire, especially with their Document jam back in ’87. “The One Love” was the mojo, the vibe that whispered in my ear, said, “This … Read moreEvolution of the Pig

Man, the Compilation, that was the coda to my first bedroom symphony, the finale of the tunes I birthed at home. A mixtape of my hits, the soul of my initial four albums, sprinkled with some secret instrumentals and a dash of fresh jams. Started the ride with “Nacirema,” a twisted flip of “Do a … Read moreCompilation

Man, The Wounded Son, my fourth riff, echoing with religious whispers and visions. Wrapped up tight in a church youth crew, chasing comfort and peace in the haze of my world. “Point of View,” sparked by U2’s fire, especially The Joshua Tree, painting the canvas with religious hues. “With or Without You,” that love tale, … Read moreThe Wounded Son

Trois, my third opus, dropped at a crossroads in my journey. Early ’87, just hit 18, itching to ditch high school’s shackles, the Rocky Mountains calling for a summer rendezvous in a field biology dance. Then came the snowstorm, a birthday bash turned car crash, my dad’s ride crumpling in the icy grip. Lou Malnati’s … Read moreTrois

Man, ’86, a shadowed chapter, school’s grip tightening like a noose. The spirits of experimentation whispered in my ear, and I took refuge in the embrace of a bottle. A drink’s dance, a waltz with creativity – birthed “The Passing of the Sand,” the heartbeat of my album. Autumn, a beast gnawing at my soul, … Read moreThe Passing of the Sand

In the days of yore, ’85 to ’86, in the heartland near Peoria, Illinois, I was just a kid, a ball of energy and ideas. Enter the Fostex X-15, my four-track maestro, nestled in the bedroom. Late nights, endless experimentation – a dance with the echoes in my head. Those tapes, never meant for the … Read moreLife After Birth