I've been writing songs since I was 14. I had a band before I had a driver's license, and we played anywhere that would have a bunch of kids with loud guitars - parties, talent shows, local dive bars.
By the time I was 21, I met up with two guitarists from New London and a drummer from New York City named Lee and formed a punk rock band that spent three years touring the northeast. We played venues like CBGB, Coney Island High, Lion's Den, Spiral Lounge, and the Elbow Room in New York City, TT & The Bear's and Bill's Bar in Boston, The Living Room and The Station in Providence, Toad's Place in New Haven, countless shows at the El N' Gee in New London. We met some great people and had some experiences that in retrospect don't seem real - a bit too Spinal Tap to believe. (Amp catching on fire mid-show? Live in WPLR studio at 7am? Opening act for a puppet show? Heineken sponsoring a summer tour? All true.) Eventually the spark that makes a band click started to fade, and we put the amps away and moved on.
More than a year ago, an old friend was battling cancer. In our last conversations, he took me to task for presuming a limitless horizon, pointedly asking why I had not written a song in years. The lesson was not to squander a day. It caught me off guard and was a kick in the ass that still stings, because the last time I heard from him, he said he looked forward to hearing what I'd come up with.
A month later, I picked up an acoustic, started strumming, and pressed record on a dusty Tascam 8-track. I wrote three songs in two days. Soon I had half an album, so I gave Lee a call and said come have a listen. He liked what he heard. So I kept writing until we had two dozen new tunes.
We're not 21 anymore and we don't sound like it. I still make up chords and we're still likely to fall down on stage, but we're not just doing this for free drinks at the bar. We've got songs we want to share and we're determined to do so on our terms. Real rock n' roll music is imperfect. It's loose and raw and honest and affecting. It sounds better live in a small club than it does on an mp3. We've been working on this for the past year, writing, arranging, thrashing out these new songs. I forgot how much I love the sound of an electric guitar. And I've got the best drummer behind the kit who's like a brother when he's off it. And he says it's time we make a record.
Some people collect stamps. Others travel the world. Whatever makes you tick. For us it's this - the sound of a Marshall amp against the crack of a snare. We couldn't be more excited to start up the engine again and share these songs with you.