Blog Posts

It struck like lightning. I was fresh from Stella, strawberries, and the New York City Philharmonic — complete with fireworks — on the Great Lawn. I had just walked — maybe “swam” would be a better choice of words — across Central Park, and climbed five sweaty flight of stairs to my apartment (listening, it’s…

For a second, I can imagine I¹m sitting next to Carole King, John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Which I guess makes me the dude from Herman’s Hermits. Or maybe Neil Diamond. The best part about seeing the Pixies (and later Wilco) perform at Hollywood’s famed Greek Theater was finally having visuals to accompany the audio…

It really doesn’t take much to rescue one’s self from melancholic exile. It’s a self-imposed exile, really. I’ve withdrawn, I’ll hand it to you. The reasons are complicated, and personal, and the kind of thing I’m not going to give away for free. They’re well-intentioned. Chopping wood, carrying water — that sorta’ thing. Yesterday wasn’t…

I set myself up for melancholy from the word go. My weekend beach plans fell through, so I was in no hurry to leave The MTV. I was filling out a CRF (computer request form) when it occurred to me that the office was a ghost town, and that filling out a CRF on a…

I had the most beautiful dream last night. Still, it scared me just a little bit. I lived in Telluride, CO, a tiny mining-turned-resort town tucked nearly 9000 feet into a tiny corner of the San Juan range, during the summer between my junior and senior years in college. At 9078 feet, the Telluride Regional…

It’s one o’clock in the morning. Producer Guy Benny and I are toiling on my forthcoming EP, “The Rivington Sessions,” when I turn to him and say, “At least let me buy you dinner.” “Nah, I’m fine, thanks,” Guy says. “I think there’s a Pepsi in the fridge.” It was that kind of night. Guy…