Shotgun Down The Avalanche

It is Christmas Eve. The moon is full. The Upper West Side is silent.

I am at my desk in my rooftop recording studio. There are a few lights on in the surrounding apartments. But mostly, all is dark. I am bathed in candle light. The room is warm. I am alone. And I am done. I am done with the day, done with the year, and done with the song. A traveling song. For a friend.

I’ve recorded 37 songs in my studio since June. They’re gifts to you: some wrapped, some not, some the sonic equivilent of Bergdorf’s, some Macy’s. But all loved. And all yours. Gratefully.

As importantly, though, is that each one of those 37 songs saved my life in some small way. Maybe they helped me feel a little less lost, a little less alone, or a little less invisible. Maybe all three. Either way, they helped me. I hope maybe they’ve helped you.

Merry Christmas, wherever you are, and wherever you’re going.

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