Want to burn down your whole life and start all over again? I got a song for that.


(my version)

1st verse

you and me baby we just got to get away

cos the people round here don’t see it our way

got the car all packed, no time to waste

if we leave right now we could make it by daybreak

i never needed anyone but you

and i know sometimes it don’t seem like i do

but the fire in my heart, well it burns real true

i just can’t sleep on a dream i’m due

and the truth it hurts

and the lies don’t work

and the good goes bad

and the bad comes back

and the kids grow old

and the old folks pass

if you’re born to run

better do it fast


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The Wait Is Over… It’s Finally Here … Strange, vol. 2!!!

You asked…

You begged…

You pleaded…

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…

I present to you…







A collection of 13 acoustic tracks, recorded throughout 2014


Totally original hits…

Remakes of the classics…

All brought to you with the same REAL-ASS-SINGIN’ and lovely ANALOG-TAPE-HISS you loved on Volume 1…


Your fearless leader,


P.S. If you’re confused, there is more info here and here.

P.P.S. But you should probably just listen first.

[bandcamp width=350 height=786 album=94289618 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5]

SNEAK PEAK: New Artwork for forthcoming collection, Strange vol. 2

Dear friend and quality music enthusiast,

It’s been about a year since I put out Strange vol 1, and since then I’ve collected another batch of home recordings and little demos to share with you.

Some were made with a 4-track cassette recorder, others were played and sung directly into an iPhone.

I am intrigued by this raw and unfiltered approach. These tracks are more like field recordings, capturing an artist in the wild. There’s no studio polish, no producer to interfere, and no second guessing on behalf of the performer. It is what it is, they are what they are… and they are for you.

I’ll post the collection next week for download, but for now you can explore Strange vol 1 and enjoy another mad, brilliant illustration from my friend AstroMonkey.



P.S. As always, if you’d like to receive updates like these sent directly to your inbox on a weekly-ish basis, sign up for my newsletter here.

strange vol 2 artwork

How To Kill A Country Song In 2 Steps (And 3 Years)

Country music is so pure. Somebody called it the white man’s blues, I forget who though. It’s hard to write. You have to be simple and sincere.

This one took me about 3 years to write. “Go on and be with him”… that line came easy. BANG. The rest was a long and frustrating hunt. But she’s dead now, mounted on my wall with the rest. Goodnight old girl. I love you.


How I Spent My Summer Vacation

family footprints

My parents own a house down in Bradley Beach. It was decided that this house is where my wife, daughter, and beagle would be spending our 1-week summer getaway as a family.

Behind the house is a small “bungalow” of sorts. It’s kind of a mini house of its own. There are two floors. The first is simply a living room with a bathroom, and then upstairs is a tiny kitchen and two small bedrooms. A screen door leads out to a quaint balcony, complete with railing planters and a glider for two. This bungalow is where we stayed.

We did not do too much all week except get up, drink coffee, walk down to the beach, come back, eat lunch, nap, wake up, hang with family, eat dinner, put the baby to bed, chill for an hour, then sleep. That was pretty much the extent of it. It was wonderful.

I got to dig into some Steinbeck—The Grapes of Wrath. I also played lots of piano (there’s one in my parent’s basement, an old spinet). My sister and her husband visited for a night or two, I played a gig in a nearby shore town of Toms River, we had a couple meals out with my folks, one night I ate some strange cookies and saw Planet of the Apes, another night my wife and I watched Stir Crazy with Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder, and yet another night we recorded our very first single as the blues duo DREAM HOUSE. My father-in-law came down with his girlfriend one day and we chatted for a while, then went over to Vic’s for some pizza. The order of these events is sort of a blur to me, and it doesn’t really matter anyway.

There is one day out on the beach that I remember more than all the others. The tide was high and the waves tumbled in at a good clip. The water was not too cold, we could go down and walk along the surf together. We all held hands, my wife on one side of my daughter and I on the other, taking a few steps and then swinging her up into the air, causing her to shriek with delight. I know people say things about the sweetness of a child’s laughter, but when it’s your own child all of those horribly cliche things that make you squirm as a younger man (or perhaps woman) suddenly become true—almost in an instant.

This is the strongest memory I’m taking away from the vacation. It’s frozen there in my mind like a Polaroid picture. Probably because I have seen it so many times before. It’s a scene that is so wholly unimaginative, and yet it is the one I keep returning to.

The week ended and we packed up our Toyota Rav4 like a good American family does: daughter in the carseat, doggie in the carrier, and ma and pa up front with a couple of Grandes for the road. I wish I could say the sky was pink as we drove off from the house, and maybe it was, but for now this is all I can remember.