I was really excited when I was offered this show. Carlos (the booker and bartender at The Cannon) has been a stalwart supporter of music in New Haven for a long time, even going so far as to open a really great venue called The State House (which is now closed, sadly). This show was a virtual home run for me… hometown show, free admission, early in the evening, not a lot of pressure.

I was also stoked to find out that I'd be sharing the night with my friend, songwriter, and one-time Seth Adam Podcast guest, Sarah Dunn. I knew I was in good company.

When booking the show, I asked about the PA situation. ‘Los told me there was "a speaker." Fair enough. I am very wary about PA systems I don’t know about, so unless I know it's good, I bring my own system. When I arrived, Carlos asked me just to use the one speaker that was already set up. There was no monitor, no soundboard, no EQ, just a speaker. I was bummed, but I wanted to respect his concern about volume, if I had set my system up, so I begrudgingly did my best to make it work.

While setting up, placing the speaker in a way that I could hear it (as a monitor) and so the patrons could also hear it, Carlos informed me that a big FIFA World Cup game was going to be on that evening. I really didn't think anything of it, especially since he reassured me he'd have the game playing on the TVs, but the volume off.

When Sarah arrived, I helped her get sound checked. The now infamous speaker had two inputs and two gain knobs, and one master volume knob. I tried to get it as loud as I could without feeding back, but when Sarah started the night and the patrons were in (it was packed), it was obvious the speaker wasn't really cutting it.

Then, in the middle of Sarah's set, a huge burst of feedback from the microphone channel let out like a bomb going off. I quickly rushed over to correct it, only to discover that the input jack on the speaker was wobbly and not making a full connection with the cable. I tried a different cable, but the problem persisted. While Sarah finished out her set, I stayed close by to make sure it didn't happen again. And while the battle with feedback was quite interrupting, it was pale in comparison to the loud “OHs,” “AHs,” and “YAYs” from the soccer loving crowd that made their presence known a few times throughout Sarah's set.

I gotta admit, I was getting bummed about it all.

But, I am a professional. Plus, there were people there that came out to see me. So, when my set came up, I quickly broke down the bad speaker, set up a really quick version of my PA (I brought it inside - I didn't wan to leave it out in the van), and got to work. I didn't set up a monitor, even though I had one, because time was getting crunchy.

I played the best I could, given the circumstances. I wasn't truly “feeling it” throughout the performance, which bummed me out, because this was a bit of a “hometown show,” and I really wanted to come across strong. Instead, I was fighting the “bummy” feelings in my head, trying not to worry while worrying about how it all sounded. I played through my set to some pleasant applause and a few outbursts of loud cheers from the FIFA World Cup game.

When I finished, Bill (a New Haven celebrity) had some kind words for me about my guitar playing, which made me feel better.

In the end, I realized some things:

1. Insist on the importance of good sound. Take time to make sure it's right, not just “it works.”
2. Even in not-so-ideal conditions, one must do the best job they can and push forward.
3. FIFA World Cup Soccer was the bane of my performing existence this summer, with this being the first of a few interruptions this year.

Big thanks to Carlos for having me. I am grateful. 

Pictured above: Sarah Dunn

I have beliefs regarding how I go about booking shows, promoting, performing, and all things related to bring my songs to more people. As far as booking shows and performing, I orbit around the belief to take nearly all opportunities that make sense. That can mean booking a show to break into a new market, to be part of a large, diverse bill, to make money, and/or to get back to a market that I haven't been to in a while. Every booking decision has to make sense.

What I'm about to say here is going to sound negative, but just follow me. When it comes to performing at The Flour Girl, it doesn't really hit any of my booking guidelines. It's not a new market, it's not part of a larger bill, it doesn't really pay much, the “performance area” is in an odd location, it's early in the day for me, and I have yet to see them promote music on their socials or their website. I've played there a few times over the past couple years, and each time I ask myself, “Why am I playing here?” And the reason I do play there, quite honestly, is simply to fill a hole on my calendar. That's it.

This date here on June 28th was okay, though still not ideal. I was in a new section of their compound, which includes a bakery, a gift shop/book store, cafe, and outdoor patio. They do an incredible business. I'm quite happy for them! They recently constructed and opened a new building on the premises, so I ended up playing on the new patio. It's still an odd location, as I am literally in between the entrance and parking lot, so people are walking by (often awkwardly), obstructing my view and the view of anyone that might be watching and listening.

What made this date special and memorable was the attendance of two incredible people - two folks that have become amazing supporters, who are always a pleasure to converse with, who are HUGE fans of music, and who are incredibly generous. Shelley and Don are such kind, awesome people, they made all the undesirable components of this booking worthwhile. I was so happy to see them when they showed up! I played two sets of all originals, with the exception of closing out with ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’ from The Beatles, and they were so enthusiastic about it. It makes a HUGE difference when original compositions make people happy. It is a true gift!

Though some of my thoughts about this booking seem negative, I AM truly grateful for the opportunity. I am grateful for all opportunities - it's just my M.O. I am ultimately grateful for Shelley and Don, and I hope I added the same goodness to their day that their attendance added to mine.

There are many venues I enjoy performing at. One of those has been The Bullwheel at Mount Snow in West Dover Vermont. As cumbersome as it can be at times (the load-in requires unloading the van at the ski lift, parking the van, walking back to the ski lift, loading the ski lift, getting to the top and unloading the ski lift, loading into the venue), I enjoy the views and the ambience. The audience has always been feel-good and appreciative. I've been playing there for nearly ten years! Over the past few years, I've started playing different venues at Mount Snow, including the Tap Room, The Iron Loft, Fairways, Harriman's, and most recently, The Grand Summit Hotel Summer Patio Series.

I played at The Grand Summit Hotel Summer Patio Series last year, though it was late in the season. I remember being quite cold last September. When the opportunity to play there this summer came up, I was ecstatic! There's a big patio, a fire pit, activities for the kids, lots of seating, and a feeling of exhilaration in the air. People are feeling good, which helps me feel good. I was really looking forward to this date, the first of two for the summer.

The show started out well. I was feeling good, playing well, the sound was spot on, people having fun, plenty of kind words. I took my first break after the first set and headed downstairs to the Harriman's bar to see my friend Alan and have myself a nice N/A beer. I got talking with some folks at the bar when someone said, “Is it raining outside?” To which I replied, “OH SHIT!” and ran back upstairs to the patio. It wasn't raining too bad, so I slid my stuff further under the canopy I was under. Then, all of sudden, it started raining HARD… sideways, upside-down, inside-out (is that possible?). And because the canopy had no gutter attached, all the rainwater was rolling down the roof and into my area, on my gear, beginning to submerge my wires, plugs, etc. After yelling “FUCK!” quite a few times, I started to unplug everything like a maniac and brought my gear into the nearby vestibule. Some very kind folks were helping me bring things in, and any serious damage was avoided by the helping hands.

While bringing things in, someone said to me, “Hey, did you just play at EAQ Landscaping?” I said, “Yes.” Turns out the guy was at the private event I played at and remembered me. Pretty cool! He was very kind, helping me bring my stuff in from the rain. We had a little laugh together, as we were both reminded that it rained at the private event I did, too. It's the bane of outdoor, summer performances!

After drying everything off, I checked in with the powers that be at the hotel, and was told I could set up inside at Harriman's or go home. Being the man of honor that I am, I brought all my gear down to the restaurant, and set up for a second time, so I could finish out my obligatory three-hour engagement. That ended up being a good thing, because I met some friends of my wife's family, engaging yet again in more conversation. Sometimes it's a small world after all!

Though I wish the performance was a little simpler, obviously not interrupted by rain, I had to employ my M.O. and make the most of it.

I often tell the story about my first time performing at GHCC. I was nervous because the golf crowd (and I don't mean that or any of this in a derogatory way) tends to be on the wealthier side. I get nervous around people with a lot more money than I - I feel like they look down on me, like I'm just some peasant draining their riches by just breathing. I've been around enough rich kids on the Yale campus, holding a door open for them and never receiving a “thank you," like I'm the fucking help or something. But I digress…

So yeah, that first time at GHCC two years ago, I was uncomfortable… for the first set, anyway. I kept it cool and calm - very reserved. Then the owner, Charlie, came over to say hello on my break. I didn't know who he was at first because he wasn't the one that booked me. After he introduced himself, told me how he had seen me a number of times at Hop Culture Farms & Brew Co., and asked if I needed a beer, I felt a little more relaxed. I told him how I was shy and nervous being around wealthier people and he told me (not verbatim), “Don't worry about that. We're not like that here. I wanted you to play because I liked what I saw at Hop Culture. Put on your show!” So that's what I proceeded to do. I had a few beers, relaxed, and let loose. People enjoyed it!

For this show - June 26th 2026 - it was a bit of a last minute thing. There was a men's golf tournament happening and they wanted some live music for the after party. I take most opportunities because an opportunity is an opportunity, and I am grateful for it! I actually hung out with the event booker from another place that I play at - Hops on the HIll - as she was there promoting the brewery. It was fun to have someone next to me to talk to!

I will admit, playing the after party of a men's golf tournament was not a life goal, but it was fun nonetheless. The dudes were appreciative. As their families showed up to have dinner with them, the crowd became more then just dudes, and they too were very appreciative. I may not be selling gold and platinum records, but I'm still playing my original songs and earning a paycheck. Every little step adds up. And I'm not bullshitting when I say, the positive reaction to my songs were often more enthusiastic than the reaction to the covers I play. That tells me that this crowd could've been at a legitimate, ticketed music venue enjoying my show… someday soon!

Some of the earliest advice I ever received in the world of music, is to always give your best because you never know who is watching. So that's what I do… even at an after party for a men's golf tournament!

I LOVES me some performing at Stone Cow Brewery! Always have! The audience there is always so kind, one of the co-owners - Sean - has become what I would consider to be a friend. I love the scenic drive up through the back roads and picturesque Massachusetts countryside. I've never had a bad show there.

Though this one wasn't bad, it was definitely off. I should make mention that this was not an "official" Stone Cow Brewery show. The Massachusetts Cheese Guild was holding their 2026 Massachusetts Cheese Festival at Stone Cow and they asked Sean if he could recommend some good live music to perform during the Cheese Festival. Thankfully, he recommended me. I'm always appreciative of an opportunity. But because it was the Cheese Festival, I didn't play in either of the normal locations on site. I ended up playing in a field, next to the parking lot, on a windy day, under a pop-up tent. And while there were some casual listeners, most people in the field area were there to get cheese, not necessarily to sit down and listen to music.

Now, I'm not an attention whore, but it does suck when I'm putting out energy and it's not coming back from the audience. Usually I rise to the occasion, with an “Oh yeah? Not paying attention to that? Well try THIS on for size!” attitude. But I was kind of barely holding on. I was on a tilted, lumpy surface, playing on a hill, and the wind kept blowing the dirt and dust from the parking lot into my space. So often when I took a breath, dust would get into my air, drying out my throat. I couldn't get enough water. I felt physically unsettled, and didn't have the energy to reach deep down to get people's attention. Because I felt uncomfortable, I got into my own head and didn't sing that well. I REALLY wanted a beer to calm myself down, but I stopped drinking in February of this year, I was 17 weeks dry at that point, and didn't want to ruin my streak. Even though I started out fine, I eventually felt like I wasn't giving what I should be giving, and certainly barely getting anything back from the Cheese-goers.

Sometimes, I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or is it wrong place, right time? Or right place, wrong time? I don't know…

Whatever it was - the tiredness, the overpowering wind (which blew my merch out of my display case a few times before I finally gave up and shut the case), the lack of interest from passers-by, playing on an uneven surface… It just didn't feel right and I slogged through it. That's not the way I like to perform. I'm not a primadonna, but I like to be comfortable so I can give my best. I ALWAYS want to give my best. Sometimes, I guess the universe has other plans. Again, this show was not a reflection of Stone Cow Brewery, or even the Cheese Guild. I think I was a bit of a shoehorn in an otherwise successful event.

I feel like I let people down and let myself down for this one. Just being honest. But, that was just one day in a long summer.

-SA 7.22.26

As I sat down to type this, I saw a story come across the wire that Tilly Norwood - an AI generated “actress” - is set to star in first feature film. I can't even say “her” first, because it's a genderless AI manifestation. And the reason I bring it up, how it's kind of apropos of this entry, is because I am SICK of AI crap. I'm sick of it being foisted upon us, sick of people using it to cut corners, sick of people telling me it's “the future.” I long for REALNESS.

That's where the Jones Winery show comes in.

I love playing at Jones Winery. David, who books me and runs sound, is a delightful human. When I first played there years ago, in roughly 2019, I asked him, “Should I play covers or originals?” He replied, “Do whatever you want.” So, that's what I've been doing when I play there… whatever makes me feel comfortable, which is usually an original-heavy set list, with a few covers sprinkled in to change it up. But on this particular night, I did something different.

I was determined to get two solid sets of originals cooking for this performance, not something I normally do. Even when I play the “all-original” shows, it's ususally a 45-60 minute set. At Jones Winery, I play two sets, every time. And this time, I dedicated myself to playing all my songs. Well, except for ending with The Beatles' ‘With A Little Help From My Friends.’ I almost always end with that, no matter what.

It can be a challenge trying to “sell” these songs that many people haven't heard before, so it helps to tell stories about them. And tell stories I did. It not only helped me pace myself, as opposed to frantically running too fast through the songs, but it gave me an opportunity to connect with the audience, make them laugh. Many places I perform at, it's hard to do that because there are a number of things happening all at once. At Jones, they are focused on the wine and the entertainment, and that makes me feel very happy!

There was a time when I basically played the entire album of “Where You Come From” because those were the only songs I had. Then “Amplify” came along and I got to be choosier. Then “Steel Tempered Pride” came about, and I had even more songs to choose from. These days, I've been focusing on the singles I've released over the past few years, as well as the songs from “Fits and Starts and Stops.” I haven't really been playing anything from the “Amplify" record over the past few years, but for this show I rotated ‘Seventy Letters’ and ‘Not Sad To See You Leave’ into the set. And the song from “Amplify” that I've really been trying to resurrect and have brought back a few months ago is ‘I Can’t Wait To Let You Down.' I always loved that song. It feels good, new, and refreshing to bring these older songs back around.

So, how does this connect to my intro rant about AI? This show felt REAL. Playing live music feels human. Playing songs that I created feels even more real and human. I'm so grateful for venues like this where I can share my art. I'm grateful for people like Ron (pictured below) that make it out to hear me play. This show was a good one to have this summer, keeping the original material front and center.

 

I'm not one to take on “corporate gigs,” but I guess you can categorize this one as such. It was a situation along the lines of so-and-so works at a place I regularly play, and this person had a relative that works at this “corporate” place, and they're having an event and looking for music… So, I took it, not knowing what to expect.

The reason I shy away from corporate-type events most of the time (as well as weddings, etc.) is because I am not a DJ. I don't have a wealth of cover material to perform, nor do I want to. I'm a songwriter. And while at many shows I do incorporate 50% originals and 50% covers, I'm not playing covers that are current stuff like Chappell Roan's ‘Pink Pony Club,’ nor do I play any of the old, tired, played-a-million times songs like ‘Sweet Caroline,’ or ‘Don’t Stop Believin'.' Sorry, it's just not my thing.

Having said that…

This private event was at a landscaping business in Glastonbury CT. It was sponsored by ABC - Associated Builders and Contractors, a trade association in the construction world. Having worked in construction at one point in my life, I had some common ground with the event. It was a sizeable event, with about 200 people from various construction and related businesses, gathering to network. It was later relayed to me by someone from ABC, that they included me on their website for the event. Pretty cool! I've performed at some places that are actual venues that neglect to list shows on their sites!

I figured I would just do what I do, be myself, play the songs I always play - “mine” and “theirs.” This formula has taken me many places, on quite a journey, and basically works. If you've ever heard the advice, “just be yourself,” well… there's a reason for it. I never want to come off as inauthentic or worse - fake - and generally it's appreciated. That was the case here. I played my songs, the cover songs, and it was genuinely enjoyed by folks all around, judging by all the nodding heads and kind words I received. That certainly made me feel more at ease. Everyone at the event was so nice, especially my liaison, Fran, who made me feel so welcome.

I played for about 75 minutes, then let the ABC and EAQ folks use my PA to give some speeches. As soon as they were done, the skies opened and it started raining. Now, let me say, that one can judge others by the quality of their character by whether or not they help the lonely musician scramble to get his or her gear out of the rain and into a safe space. I'm happy to report that these were terrific people, helping to bring my stuff inside, then getting a pop-up tent to cover me and my gear up while I dried off and packed things up. I was grateful for their help.

When I was young, I had aspirations of performing in arenas, like my heroes did. If someone said, “You're going to be playing music at a networking event for tradespeople on a patio at a landscaping business,” I would've have shook my head in protest. But that's what I did. I'm glad I did. It may not have been Madison Square Garden, but I deeply appreciate the opportunity given to share MY songs to a new group of people. And make some bucks…

-SA 7.2.26

Welcome to the inaugural post of my Summer 2026 shows journal!

NewSylum Brewing is a very cool place. Set on the campus of the original Fairfield Hills Hospital, the main building is a beautiful artifact of the original hospital structures with tiles, tall ceilings, and a reminder of what the time was like when it was built (circa 1920s-1930s).

The Fairfield Hills Hospital campus was a psychiatric hospital in Newtown CT that operated from 1931-1995. Many of the buildings are still intact, though vandalized via graffiti, broken windows, broken window frames, etc. The grounds are still quite beautiful, with manicured lawns and abundant shrubbery. The annual Newtown Arts Festival is still held there (which I played at a couple of years ago). Because of the nature of the “psychiatric hospital” past, the campus has a lot of lore, urban legend, ghost stories, and other history of being a haunted place. A quick search on YouTube for “insane asylum Newtown CT” will lead you down a long rabbit hole.

The folks at NewSylum Brewing did a wonderful job rehabilitating the building and yard that they use. It's a beautiful building with pillars and arches making you feel like you're drinking beer in a royal setting. Speaking of the beer, they have a substantial selection, and I remember it being quite good. As of this post, I haven't had any alcohol in over 4 months, so I didn't partake at this show.

The staff and owner Mark “Sharky” are very kind, super nice. So much so, that Mark was a huge help to me when I told him one of my PA speakers stopped working. Yeah, one of my 3-year-old QSC mains just crapped out at sound check. Mark offered up one of his speakers, which I used as a monitor, and I put my monitor on the pole to replace the main. That made me feel a whole lot better!

This show was a originally booked as a solo show, but about 3 weeks before the date, they asked if I could put a band together for it. Though it was a lot of pressure to get a band together given the limited time, I was very excited about the prospect of bringing Nick (drums) and Jeff (bass, vocals) along with me. We crash-course rehearsed about 35 songs, half covers, half my originals, and we were ready to go. Sadly, about 5 days before the date of the show, the weather wasn't looking promising for June 7th, so it was decided to go back to solo and move the music inside. Of course, the day of the show, the weather was gorgeous - showing no sign of rain. But seeing as one of my mains crapped out, I guess things worked out after all.

This was my second time playing here (last one was last summer of 2025). The patrons are very cool, music-minded people. It feels like the area has a definitive “jam-band” air to it, as folks got amped up when I played ‘Friend of the Devil’ and ‘Scarlet Begonias’ from the Grateful Dead. Generally speaking, people where receptive and responsive to virtually all the songs I played, including my originals. Sometimes even more so for the originals. As a reminder, at these 3-hour/3-set shows, I play 50% covers, 50% originals. The pattern, if you follow along, is a cover, an original, a cover, an original, a cover, an original… and so on.

I dig playing here and hope to bring the band in next year with more “juice” behind me. I could see doing a ticketed event here, or even a co-bill with another band. Music is definitely part of the culture here, so performing at NewSylum Brewing is a comfortable experience.

-SA 6.21.26

TUESDAY MARCH 17th 2026

I’ve been simultaneously listening to the audiobook (listening, not reading) of Geddy Lee’s “My Effin’ Life” and reading Mike Campbell’s book (reading… a tangible book) “Heartbreaker.”

I’m at a point in both stories where the bands (Tom Petty and The Heartbreaker’s and Rush), have signed to small labels, are at a crossroads with performing - aspiring to perform they’re original compositions, realizing it’s the only way to really get anywhere - and burnt out/exhausted of playing gigs on the local circuit that requires them to play multiple sets and cover songs, but had to do so in order to make some money.

I’m here thinking to myself that I’ve been feeling that way for the past 25 years. I’ve been REALLY feeling this way for the past 10 years, and I’ve been REALLY, REALLY, REALLY feeling that way for the past year (basically since opening for the great Willie Nile at FTC Stage One in September 2025).

I’ve mostly been keeping these feelings inside, or at least within my “circle of trust” (hello Meet the Fockers). I never, ever want to come across as ungrateful, so I don’t say anything. I am EXTREMELY grateful. I get to do what some folks only dream of doing. I’m really good at what I do. I’ve managed to set my own terms on the 3-hour/3-set shows I play, performing 50% originals and 50% covers (and I’m not doing covers like ‘Sweet Caroline’ or any other other typical shit covers that are relentlessly played too many times by too many bands). I get to woodshed my chops at these long stretches which has made me a better player and performer. I get to meet people and “campaign” for my original music.

Still, I want more. By more I mean more ticketed, all-original shows and less of the 3-hour/3-set performances I do. In the books I’m reading/listening to, I can totally identify with where each band is in their career - hustling, grinding, fighting against the world, trying to convince people to listen, trying to find that wider audience for their heartfelt original songs, all the while still slogging away at those multi-set/multi-hour performances and all the covers they did to keep people interested.

Now that I’m 50 with a beautiful family, wanting to be the best father, husband, and musician I can be, with all the real-world responsibilities that comes with each, it seems more selfish and outright daunting to want more. But I’m still trying, often feeling like I’m just getting started. I really don’t want to do anything else but music, to be honest.

And in these 50 years, I have a lot of history to look back at. I stuck with and listened to people that perhaps I shouldn’t have. I dropped and didn’t listen to people that perhaps I should have. I’ve seen (and continue to see) SO much bullshit that makes me think, “Why am I even trying?” I also see a TON of amazing artists that should be getting the spotlight and thinking, “If they’re not gaining ground, what chances do I have?” I’m also highly opinionated, somewhat overly-independent to a fault, and skeptical of a lot. I wonder if these traits help or hinder me. I also feel like I don’t fit neatly in a box… too rough around the edges to fit in the modern singer-songwriter category (which tends to be too poppy), not hard enough for whatever other category (while I’m on the subject, remind me to tell you about the Rock Boat world sometime). It could also be that I’m too self aware.

But I love the songs, man, and I just don’t want to quit.

I read a passage last night about Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers playing at CBGB’s for the first time on their first tour. Their van, containing Benmont Tench’s keyboard gear, was stolen while they played to 12 people inside the club. Little did they know they’d be performing at Madison Square Garden years later. But I can imagine it was majorly disheartening, and perhaps left them feeling that they should pack it in. Not sure what happens next, I’ll probably read that tonight.

I’ve been lost a lot lately, yet somehow more determined than ever. I feel lost because I’m burnt out on the 3-hour/3-set shows and don’t know what else to do. After all, it IS how I earn a living. I’m lost because there are a lot of decisions to make in this business of music, to try to advance, and I could easily waste time on one option when I should’ve taken the other. And strangely enough, I’m still so determined because I don’t think the world has seen the best of me. I think I have a lot more art to do and more mileage to go. Weird diametric, eh? And just like what happened with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers after their van was stolen, who knows what the years ahead hold for me?

I’ve been wanting to write a post like this for quite some time, but worry about coming across as unhappy or complaining. I am neither. And to be honest, the older I get, the less of a fuck I give about what other people think. I guess that’s something good about getting older.

So, in summary, I want more… and I’m working on it. Time to get un-lost. I think I just needed to write this out.

THURSDAY OCT. 23rd 2025

Photo by Stockcake

A while back, a musician friend of mine noticed how I navigate the music business and referred to me as a “lone wolf.” I suppose I am, in a way. I mean, I do virtually everything myself… from writing the songs, booking the shows, doing the graphic design work for merchandise and advertising, recording myself (playing all the instruments most times), making the phone calls, driving the van… I am kind of a one person operation. Obviously, I have a great support system in place from my wife and family, as well as the people that come to the shows, buy t-shirts, records, etc. I wholeheartedly appreciate and am grateful for the support, and simply wouldn’t be able to do what I do without these people. But when it comes to the nitty-gritty, behind the scenes stuff, I am a lone wolf.

It wasn’t always this way. For years, I was in bands. From my earliest prog-rock/metal band - Misconception - to the Seth Adam Band - which would later become the successful Green Inside - to the earliest days of Seth Adam. I had people around me… band members, people that I could share the responsibilities with for booking, driving, advertising, songwriting, etc. But bands aren’t forever. If you’ve ever seen the Tom Hanks movie, That Thing You Do, there’s a scene where drummer Guy Patterson is getting advice from one of his heroes, Del Paxton. Del explains to him, “Man, there ain’t no way to keep a band together. Bands come and go. You gotta keep on playing, no matter with who.” For me, that means if you want to keep going in the music arena, you must learn to do things yourself - from the music and instruments to the business stuff - until you can relinquish those responsibilities to new band members and/or people willing to help out.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have some good people with good intentions in my corner. Managers, booking people, street team people… In my experiences though, they fizzle. A lot of people are excited at first - they see this vessel with a lot of potential to succeed, and they want to be a part of it. So they take on some responsibilities to become part of the crew and share in the glory. I take a lot of responsibility for some of those relationships fizzling out because the bands weren’t as successful as everyone had hoped. No one wants to go down with the proverbial ship. It’s understandable. So when the excitement ended, so did the help. As lucky as I was with the help of people I admired, I found myself alone with my songs again.

There have been some massively high and low times for me in the past 10-15 or so years. When my last band - Green Inside - ended, I was frustrated, but insanely motivated to start a new project. At one point I had a terrific band - a bass player, keyboard player, guitar player, mandolin player, drummer - and we all wanted to see the project go forward. We were super tight, and had the support of a small, independent label and studio. We put out my first record, Where You Come From, and supported it through a radio campaign and constant performances. It was exciting and people were noticing us. A music columnist for Fox News online (Roger Friedman) wrote about the band after seeing us in New York City, calling on big industry names like Jason Flom, Charlie Walk, and James Diener to come see us. I thought we were really making noise.

Then the time came to start working on a follow-up record. The producer/label and I were butting heads about the direction of the sound. I wanted something more raw, he wanted something more polished to compete on radio. Then, the keyboard player left, the mandolin player left, and the bass player left. I broke away from the label/studio, got a new bass player, and carried on to a new studio with a different producer. The four of us were an extremely tight unit, and we made one of my favorite albums, Amplify. At this point, I also signed with a management company, opening up new opportunities for the music. We released Amplify through the management imprint as a pseudo-label, and it was amazing. The record sounded amazing. I was so proud of it. The band was proud of it. The management, not so much. We weren’t as poppy as other artists on the roster, and I found myself not being the priority I had hoped to be. The band carried on performing to promote the record, and I started to take on more solo and duo shows with the guitar player to keep things moving along.

Eventually, the management dissipated, so those music business responsibilities fell on my shoulders again. By the time I started working on album number three, Steel Tempered Pride, there wasn’t really a band anymore. The drummer and bass player got busy with their main business. So I went through a string of bass players and drummers to fill in. I somehow managed to complete Steel Tempered Pride with the guitar player and a rolodex of other players, including another mandolin/violin player who would lift the project to new heights with his various connections. He hooked us up with David Immerglück from Counting Crows, who produced and played on two tracks on the album. Once again, I was riding high. Around this time, I even got a booking agent and was touring throughout the country. Riding even higher! I was really excited as things were once again falling into place. But it was short lived. By late 2013-2014-ish, the guitar player got married, the mandolin player was getting into bigger name projects, and I was once again left alone.

I don’t blame anyone but myself for these things. I have always been the leader. I’ve always steered the ship. And I can only imagine that I just didn’t do a good job of getting the project to the next levels. Whether it was sub-par performances on my end, or simply not being in the right places at the right times, I think whatever allure Seth Adam had at the time was gone. It wasn’t worth sticking around for, for anyone. Hell, even the booking agency folded and subsequently dropped me. I was literally on my own again.

I spent the next few years woodshedding… getting my guitar chops in line, learning to sing better, and learning to record myself. Having spent a lot of the time down in the dumps and drowning my sorrows in a lot of booze, I turned things around in an attempt to re-establish myself as the artist I always felt I was. Though, this time, I wasn’t going to depend on anyone. I developed a fierce sense of independence, probably to my detriment. I was (and still am) protective of myself. I didn’t really let anyone “in.” I performed a lot, incorporating looping into my performances and started to develop my own “thing.” I didn’t want to be pigeon-holed as a folk artist, singer-songwriter, or anything like that. Whatever came out of me was what came out of me - whether it was metal-ish (my roots), country, rock, or whatever.

My East Rock EP (2018), my last full-length record Fits and Starts and Stops (2022), and the various singles I've been releasing over the past few years, have embodied my “lone wolf,” independent spirit. I may not be Chris Lord Alge, but I've managed to record, produce, and mix my own songs. I've played virtually all instruments, with the exception of a few spots where I just wanted to have friends play on the song. Like I mentioned earlier, it may be to my detriment… perhaps these songs would shine brighter with star players, producers, and engineers. I just haven't developed the trust for that yet. So, I stick to my independent status and do things myself, my time, my dime, my way.

I’d say for the past 6-7 years, I have only let a few people into my musical world, literally a handful of people that I trust. It’s only these people I have collaborated with, either playing in bands with them, or having them play in my band, or adding their instruments to my recordings. I can’t help it. I am still overly-protective of what I have, fiercely independent, and not ashamed of it. Perhaps I have trust issues. I don’t care. I have curated and carved my own path and will continue to do so. Failure is a thing I can only blame myself for. Success - a definition which is constantly changing - I will share with fans that support the music. I am defensive, protective, perhaps a bit conservative because too many times I’ve relied on people and been let down. And that’s okay… sometimes that’s just the way things are. I’m doing what I need to do.

I’m okay with being a lone wolf until I don’t have to be.