THURSDAY OCT. 23rd 2025
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.