I guess if I had to describe my “story,” the story that at least gets told through my music, it would be a story of adolescence, at least for now. I have lived in Fresno for all of my (admittedly short) life, and I think it can show through my music at times. But I’m always looking for a way to escape. Whether it be the mountains or the beach, make no mistake that I’d rather be anywhere than Fresno from at least July up to September. Our summers are scalding and long.
If I can’t do that, though, I still have the long-standing escapist cliche of music.
I started playing with bands in 1997, and all I cared about was playing live, seeing people see and hear me. I wasn’t concerned with whether they liked it or hated it, so long as they felt something. Here we are, 20-something years later, and not much has changed for me, but the rest of the world is a different animal entirely.
The shortest version of this story is I drove 8 hours to watch my dad die and then wrote a song about other things. Also here is a picture of my mom’s dog and I. It seems to make that first sentence sting a little less.