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Run

Well, that was fast. This was my first weekend home in three weeks. And it’s my last weekend home for three weeks. As a result, I did almost nothing all weekend. Laundry? Check. Haircut? Check. Dancing at three a.m.? Check. Casey came over last night. He’s a far more accomplished harmonica player than I am,…
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Going Home

Wanna’ hear the sound of heartbreak? We’re rolling south on I-35. I’m the new guy on the bus. It’s a little bit awkward. I’ve already solidified my outsider status by putting Death Cab For Cutie on the CD player. Mike’s playing, “Where you at?” Crank calling a Hooters and asking, “Where you at?” His ability…
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A Frequency To Change My Mind

The granite buildings of Omaha were glowing orange in the sunset. Smitty, Mike, Jason and I were racing to The Sokol Underground for my opening set. “I’ve never seen so many radio towers,” I said. “Broadcasting so little,” Jason said. The Nadas spend plenty of time transversing the highways and byways of Middle America. It’s…
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Listen Through the Static II

In fifteen years of making records, I don’t think I’ve ever really had a plan. I’ve made more than a dozen records with a handful of great producers, but I don’t think we ever possessed a clear vision of the process or the outcome when we started recording. Sometimes it works (“Love & Other Indoor…
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Get Back

If I injure my back on tour, can I write of the massage come tax time? Who knew rocknroll could be so dangerous? Last Friday night — actually, it was Saturday morning — I was lending The Nadas a hand in their load out of Sokol Underground in Omaha, Nebraska. It was a fabulous night.…
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Do It Again (And Again)

As far as my mother is concerned, I am finally a bona fide success. The Nadas are midway through the second set of their third night at the Iowa State Fair. The Anderson Erickson Amphitheater is jam-packed. Josh Davis and I are pacing backstage, sharing a water to sober up. He’s fiddling with his hair.…
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