Posts by Benjamin
My Perfect Storm Of Poor Planning (Or Hubris)
Four miles on four hours of sleep is not an ideal training scenario. These days find me in the center of a perfect storm of poor planning (or hubris). I’m in putting the finishing touches on my forthcoming CD, “The Invention of Everything Else,” due June 18th on Des Moines’ own Authentic Records. I’m still…
Read MoreExtra Pickles, As Always
Years ago, when I was recording the first of two albums (“Almost Home” and “Love & Other Indoor Games”) at my pal Kevin Anthony’s Control One Studios, I began most sessions with a delicious, toasty Turkey Ranch Sub from Quiznos on 23d Street. Tonight, Chris and I are editing just a few blocks from there,…
Read MoreThe Dirty Life And Times Of Warren Zevon
I’m pretty sure I’m not a tortured artist, though I may be a masochist. Most readers flock to best sellers, pap like Joseph Hellerman, Dean Koontz, or Scott Turow. Nothing wrong with that; I enjoy a blockbuster page-turner like the guy in the next seat on the plane. My pap, though, is the rock bio.…
Read MoreTop Five Boneheaded Sports-Related Injuries
I’ve made two fairly boneheaded training mistakes in the last two weeks. Two weeks ago, I decided it would be fun to jog up then sprint down a mountain above Los Angeles just two hours before boarding the red eye to New York, and two days before the Brooklyn Half Marathon. And yesterday, I set…
Read MoreThe Rock & Roll Husband
I distinctly recall standing next to Abbi in Brooklyn, staring way down Flatbush Avenue towards downtown Manhattan. We were testing the waters together, trying to find a neighborhood in which to move. The process, though, was pushing some other buttons. “But it’s so far away!” I whined. Later, on the subway, I articulated what I…
Read MoreOn Everything Else
Sometime just before I asked Abbi to marry me, I cracked open a fortune cookie that read, “Everything will soon come your way.” Not to gloat, but today felt that way. First, Jamie Leonhart and I made a date to sing “Killing The Blues” next weekend. Then, Chris Suchorsky’s Damnwells’ documentary, “Golden Days,” hit my…
Read MoreYou Feel Like Home To Me
I blame Jason Walsmith. It was last June. The 30th, to be precise. My wife, Abbi, and I had flown into Iowa City that morning, then streaked westward on I-80. My pal, Josh Davis, was performing on the Authentic Records’ stage at the Des Moines Arts Festival when we pulled up to Western Gateway Park.…
Read MoreWhat Happens On The Upper East Side…
Yes, that’s Ashton Kutcher with his arm around my wife. I should’ve seen the signs: her new Kabalah bracelet, “The Butterfly Affect” in our Netflix queue, “Punk’d” on TiVo. And she’s been wearing a lot of leapard prints. If only I weren’t at the office all day, then in the edit all night. If only…
Read MoreThe Astronaut’s Lament
It’s Friday night at 6:43 and I’m still at the office when it dawns on me. ‘Shit, I still have to pick up the master tapes.’ Master files, really, but what’s a little nomenclature between friends? All I want to do is go home, grab a beer and hang with the wife. But Travis Harrison…
Read MoreKilling The Blues – Video
We’re twenty minutes into the “Invention of Everything Else” recording session when we start hearing a loud, arrhythmic clicking sound in our headphones. Travis stops rolling. “Ok,” he says. “Who’s got the bum cable?” Chris and I aren’t plugged in. Tony protests. “I checked everything before we started,” he says. “Battery?” Chris and I are…
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