This month I ask a big question, “what is the price of certainty?” I first asked this question over these chords in response to 9/11, when I became overwhelmed by a sense that zealotry was about to be met with zealotry. For sixteen years I had only the question and the chords. I’m not sure I’m better off, but at least I wrestled with the question and got a song out of it. About the song I tend to veer away from writing these type of songs, since I think pop/rock is great at exploring our personal emotional landscape, but not so great at tackling big societal issues. Nevertheless, current events had me back pondering this question again and wanting to finish this song. To move things along, I
This month it’s a trip down memory lane, celebrating a crush I had one summer when I was a mere lad of 15, or there about. I’m rocking out and getting loud with my 1938 Vega electric guitar, putting on my sun block, cranking up to 11, and setting the dial to POWER POP!!! About the song The summer of 1977 was full of changes for me. My family was about to move from the town I had known all my life. Puberty was finally kicking in, and I swear I grew eight inches over that year. I had bought a Les Paul guitar, that I had no idea about (I thought it was French, and I would very seriously call it a le palm guitar. I wish I was joking about that). I was dreaming of having a band and practicing pos
