It’s hard to fit it all into words, it’s actually impossible. I remember one of my favorite little personal moments of the trip was in the artist’s lounge/wine bar on the seventh floor near the jam room. The room was nearly empty (it usually is), but in the corner sat Bill Kreutzman of the Grateful Dead giving an interview alongside Papa Mali. Kreutzman told a funny story about how he was a little nervous when he was going to be playing with George Porter Jr. but when he showed up for their first gig together, George was already there, setting up Bill’s drums for him. I turned to head out of the lounge when the interview was over and there at the piano in the same room was Nigel Hall going over a tune with Living Color’s Corey Glover.

Just waiting in the artist/staff line to get on to the boat is enough to make any fan of the jam world’s head spin. We made room in the aisle where Neal Evans caught up with Karl Denson in front of us. When the line started to move, we passed Marco Benevento sitting to the side with his wife and beautiful kids. Met Raul from Ozomatli for the first time. Said hello to Anders Osborne and to George Porter and met George’s wife. Chatted with Robert Mercurio from Galactic. Slapped hands with Trombone Shorty’s guys.

My intention is not to name-drop here.  I’m just saying this was THE FIRST 30 MINUTES OF GETTING THERE, WAITING TO GET ON THE BOAT.  I was like:

“Holy shit there are some talented people getting on to this boat right now. If a terrorist blew up this building there would be no jamming in the United States for the next two decades.”

And that, by far is the overwhelming force of jam cruise: the music. This sounds obvious, but bear in mind, you’re on a enormous cruise ship with 15 floors, restaurants, bars, lounges, a spa, a mini-golf course, a disco. You’re cruising into the Caribbean Sea making stops in Haiti and Jamaica… believe me there is plenty of other stimulation to go around! But the tidal wave of music on this thing just trumps it all.

Some thoughts:

I think Eric Krasno is a genius. Beyond his musicianship, beyond his guitar playing, I tend to think that he’s this kind of special connector point for a ton of music and musicians coming together. It’s hard to imagine the jam scene without him. And it’s a testament to his vision of music that what he does is not really “jam band” (whatever that means anymore) in the first place.  I will say on that note, he sounds better than ever. Dude is RIPPING, not to mention he had some beautiful, sublime quieter moments during Soulive’s theater set. And watching him at work in his home studio a few months ago, it’s clear that he understands the ins and outs of tunes as well as anyone out there. Breathes music.

Speaking of Krasno… Lettuce must be the sickest funk/soul band on the planet. It’s just hard to imagine it getting much better. Adam Deitch is a special drummer. They’re all special players.

Mike Dillon has moved into my “favorite musicians on the planet” category.

Here are my favorite musical moments/sets from Jam Cruise X:

• Anders Osborne doing the original Paul Pena version of “Jet Airliner” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cjr5U7g6aiA with Galactic and Corey Glover on the pool deck at night.

• Keller and the Keels in the theater. This one surprised me. Jaw-dropping picking and fun, fun, fun.

• Soulive in the theater. The early originals, the Beatles tunes, and for me, the crusher: D’Angelo’s Untitled (How Does it Feel), which got quiet and sublimely beautiful.

• Dead Kenny G’s late night in the Zebra Lounge. Mike Dillon and Skerik taking you to hell and back with sit-ins from Stanton Moore and Brad Barr. Mind blowing musical genius with punk rock energy.

• Toots and the Maytals on the pool deck in the sun. 54-46 into a gospel jam out in the breeze with frozen drinks as we leave Jamaica? Yes please.

And my own musical moments:

• Sitting in with Galactic for “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”

• Playing tunes at “The Spot” with Nathan Moore, Brad Barr, and others. Great blog about this by Scotty Bernstein: http://www.glidemagazine.com/hiddentrack/jc10-journal-on-the-16-of-every-hour-final-night-at-the-spot/

• Singing “Love Rears It’s Ugly Head” with Living Colour’s Corey Glover and Galactic. Total dream come true for me. I used to listen to that song over and over in my Walkman in the backseat of my parents car as they drove. Cut to Jam Cruise 2012 and Corey’s got his arm around my neck and we’re singing it together on stage.

• Watching the end of Trombone Shorty’s set from the back of the stage on the pool deck.  People in the crowd singing the words that I wrote to “Something Beautiful” while Troy performed it.  I got tears in my eyes.

• Playing a set on the pool deck with the crowd yelling either “Polo!” or “Benevento!” every time I yelled “Marco!”

• Serenading the good folks of Positive Legacy in the fine dining restaurant. When I played “Don’t Worry Be Happy,” even the waiters started singing and dancing.

I also sang “Pumped Up Kicks” on stage with Toubab Krewe but it wasn’t my finest work. Still, an honor to sit in with that band.

I leave tomorrow for a tour that will take me on another cruise: Cayamo. WAY, way different then Jam Cruise by all accounts and I am blessed to be able to do both. Ironically, we will have the full band.  This one is a songwriter cruise: Lyle Lovett, John Prine, John Hiatt, Richard Thompson, Lucinda Williams, Greg Brown, many others. More about the listening than the dancing and raging. Still, I am psyched to throw down with the guys and I will be sure to blog about it.

Ahoy!

Another gem from Livingston Taylor’s book.  Think about that.  Successful people are thankful.  There is so much power in that idea.  They say if you take time every day and make a list of what you’re thankful for, it’ll transform your life.  I believe that.  Not that I’ve been making lists.  But I do pray sometimes.  And beyond praying for others, I always try to speak a silent “thank-You” for what I have.

Spent Christmas Eve and Christmas with Jess’ family.  A feast of food and gifts and conversation and family love around an old table in an old house in an old town in Massachusetts.  Warm lights and the smell of a huge pot roast with delicious vegetables and fresh baked bread.  Endless desserts.  Wine.  Little barking dogs.

And now I’m back home in my big cluttered room in a cold house in Lawrence, the space heater humming and the old radiators whistling, trying their best.  I just watched a documentary about Jean-Michel Basquiat on Netflix.  The other night I stayed up until 5am to watch a fascinating show about plant-life (no bullshit).  Skate videos have been in heavy rotation, political articles, a full-length documentary about Christian Hosoi, an inspiring little interview clip of Kelly Oxford, Thrasher Magazine, a great article about sleep cycles, recipes for cilantro-honey-lime marinade.  And I’ve been reading Josh Ritter’s novel “Bright’s Passage.”  It’s great.

I’m soaking stuff in.  The guitar feels good when I pick it up, I’ve practiced a little too.  I haven’t really been writing, except for this blog.  Mostly I’m just taking in.  And semi-stressing about the New Year’s shows.  They will be great but we have to make them great.  We need new things to happen, new covers, new collaborations.  I always stress about this stuff heading in but that’s just part of the process I guess.  Can’t wait to snowboard.

This brain dump has been brought to you by a few needed days without shows.  I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this, why I feel the need to share.  But I do.  I’m floating in the cosmos, keeping the feelers out for whatever passes by.  I’m looking for a little clarity, a little direction right now.

And I am thankful that you’re listening.

I’m starting to feel like I used to feel when I got home from touring. Exhausted and antsy at the same time. Very tempted to get fucked up, to get out of my head at any cost. When you move around so much at a million miles an hour (or 75mph, whichever) and then you come home and you suddenly stop… it can be hard to know what to do with yourself. I’m trying to eat good, I went to yoga tonight, I sent my parents some wine and a Christmas card and ran some other errands today.

After yoga I cooked a meal for one with more than enough food for two. Even when I’m home, my house is 98 miles and a ferry ride from my girlfriend, so that’s just the way it goes sometimes. And I found a nice bottle of wine tucked away from some pot-luck or dinner party of yore. The smell of garlic in the air, seasoned warm chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, the steamed broccoli. I uncorked the bottle and happily downed a glass of that Chilean red with dinner in front of the TV. When I ate my seconds I drank water to rehydrate from the Bikram. But I was so much looking forward to that next glass of wine. I wondered if I would maybe end up downing the whole bottle.

And when I set out to do the dishes, I opened a cabinet and knocked the near-full bottle of wine clean off the marble counter. It smashed on the floor in a million pieces. Shards of dark green glass and red pools that made our kitchen look like a murder scene, all spreading over the hardwood and seeping under the fridge.

Fuck.

Maybe that’s a sign that I’m not supposed to be drinking.

It all feels on the up and up. My body has suffered some from all of the touring, but the shows have been feeling outstanding for the most part. I read Livingston Taylor’s book “Stage Performance”  while on tour and it has really rocked my world as far as being on stage. You may not see a big difference, but I certainly feel one. I’m there to observe you, not the other way around. Amazing.

A couple of notes about my forthcoming “New Orleans” record:

–It is not a record of New Orleans music. I did the recording session in the crescent city with four of its amazing, amazing people and players (George Porter Jr., Ivan Neville, Anders Osborne, Simon Lott, plus producer Ben Ellman), but we did a mix of originals and semi-deep covers of the funk/soul/R&B variety. It is very different from other records I have done.

–It looks like it’s coming out May 15^th. We had to push it back slightly mainly because…

–I will be my own record label again. This is not something new, I’ve never in my career had an actual record deal (although I did sign a small distribution deal a few years ago for “Patience on Friday” and ended up owing that label money. Awesome…) I thought that something might work out for this new album and for the first time I was actually looking forward to the opportunity to really work with a label. There was definitely some interest, but in the end I’m going it alone again. Well, not alone, I’ve got two managers, an agent, Trader Dan, the band, Ryan Laurey, friends, fans, family, and soon a temporary publicist if I can raise the funds.

–So I think we’re starting a Kickstarter, or PledgeMusic campaign in January. I’ve always been leery about going to the fans for funding. But selling the house concerts on eBay is what allowed me to make this record in the first place. I think we can have some fun with putting it out and I will only do it because people get something directly for what they give. Incentives, y’all…

What else… Oh, hoping to blog more. Heh…

Thought my laptop was completely fried, hard drive, files, unfinished songs and all, but James fixed it and here I am!  Writing from a cottage on a beautiful lake in Wisconsin.  Elkhart Lake, to be exact.

We continue to lead charmed lives.  With hardcore space-shuttle van missions in between to get to the charmed destinations.  The rear A/C unit in the Sprinter broke.  Not the end of the world, but it can make for some uncomfortable 13-hour drives, which we’re doing regularly as of late.  Got to get to the end of the rainbow!  On Saturday we played in front of maybe 1000-2000 people at an outdoor beer festival in Denver.  The next day we played Mishawaka Amphitheater in the gorgeous Rockies, a river rushing directly behind the stage, tossing out cool moist mountain air.

Then we got in the dilapidated blue shuttle and drove 13 hours on Monday, munching on Colorado’s finest magical oyster crackers and winding up in a hotel in Iowa for six well-earned hours of sleep.  Got up and dove another six hours yesterday to get to this beautiful little lake town in Wisconsin.  The people are extremely friendly, the food is amazing, and bratwurst, cheese and beer are an art-form not to be taken lightly.

We are thankful to have a two-night stand here.  It means we didn’t have to drive anywhere today.  Or load out last night.

Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Des Moines, Iowa.  Wichita, Kansas.  Bellvue, Colorado.  Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin.  Everywhere we go, there are people who know the words to the songs.  People sporting the t-shirts.  People who drove from two hours away to see the show.  Even the places we have never been to (Kalamazoo, Des Moines), it seems we can count on 50-60 people showing up and being pumped on an off-night during the week.

Tomorrow we will drive 14 hours east and then another three or so the next day right into a boat cruise in Manhattan.  Huge boat in Boston the next day for our annual hometown cruise.  900 people on a boat.  And then we’re home.  Thanks to Yahuba for getting married the following weekend, thereby giving us a weekend off!  Those don’t come very often these days…

Mountain Jam was a blast and an honor.  Met Mavis Staples.  (!!!!!)  She said I have to write a song for her.  OK then!  The night before, James and I went to Levon Helm’s Midnight Ramble in Woodstock, where Mavis was the special guest.  After a full set from Mavis and her band, a full set from Levon and his band, all 18 musicians did a combined 12-song set and recorded a record right in front of us.  If they didn’t feel they got a good take, they would replay the tunes.  Sometimes three times.  Larry Campbell running the show.  Mavis taking us to church.  Levon holding it down as he has for decades.  Amazing.  Felt like we were watching history being made.

On a different level, was also very impressed by the Avett Brothers set at Mountain Jam.  A couple of weeks ago we played the Canal Street Tavern in Dayton, Ohio.  In the kitchen/green room, as we sat around a table eating our subs, I noticed an Avett Bros. poster on the wall.  Someone said it was from 2005 or so when they played there last.  Made me think…  Five or six years later and now they’re playing on the Grammy’s, blowing up everywhere, and blowing up the very Mountain Jam stage that we played on a few hours before them.  You really don’t find many templates in this business.  Every act is so different and the industry changes fast.  But to see the poster of a band who has been at it longer than us, having played the same club that we now find ourselves in, a band who is still fighting the good fight and KILLING IT night after night on bigger and bigger stages…

That’s inspirational.

Some days I’m not sure how many more years we can go.  It’s been eight years in one van or another.  We’re grown men in a metal box day after day.  Might as well be in a submarine (no disrespect to those who actually do live in a submarine).  I remember hearing years ago about how Dave Matthews didn’t “make it” until he was 34.  I always thought that was a good number to shoot for.  And I thought I was quite the modest and realistic one for thinking that 34 would be when I would “make it.”  Although I would also tell you that there was no such thing as “making it,” and I still believe that for the most part.

I turned 34 on Saturday.  And as I told the boat, “Glad to see that I was right.”  I have made it.

I’m still my own record label, I’m still in debt and fairly broke, and I’m still riding in a van trying to make sure everybody has enough money to eat.  But the music is better than ever.  And all of these seeds we’ve been planting for years…they’re sprouting.  People sing the words every night.  And we play bigger and bigger stages, we’ve opened for Dave, we’ve seen that operation.  His level of success is not a pipe dream now.  I mean it is, but we can see it for the reality, even the impossible reality that it is.  We have witnessed it.  And maybe we’re just getting started.

We took the first two months of 2011 essentially off.  It was like a dream.  By far the most time we’ve had at home in seven or eight years.  Most of it I spent on Martha’s Vineyard with my girlfriend.  I took an online lyric writing class at Berklee and tried to learn to chill out.

Since the break we’ve done 48 shows.  This past weekend was insane.

We were home for two days after a month-long run that included me recording a new album in New Orleans (more on that later).  Two days and then we hit the road again, straight to Pittsburgh.  Then Dayton.  The next afternoon we played Summer Camp festival, a huge jam fest, 19,000 people, outside of Chicago on two hours of sleep.  Played a very enjoyable set there, got in the van and drove for EIGHTEEN STRAIGHT HOURS back east.

18.

Straight to a Men’s Wearhouse in White Plains, NY where we picked up our tuxedo rentals and loaded into a beautiful chateau to play a Jewish wedding.  Fully tuxed, the guys did a jazz set for the cocktail hour, Jay played for the ceremony, and then we threw down two sets for the reception.  I sang Hava Nagila while the guys played it and the crowd threw the bride and groom around on chairs, the whole nine.

Slept in a hotel and drove to StrangeCreek, where a hometown audience wiped the grime off of any road fatigue and left us all with huge grins on our faces.  AMAZING crowd.  From my vantage point, they all moved and slithered as one joyful and excited beast.

Lyle’s been killing it on guitar.  The guys and I could not be more excited about where we are musically.  And where we believe we can go.  Realize, we’re just at the very beginning with Lyle.  And it’s been almost entirely gigging, we’ve barely even had time to rehearse together.  And he has slid in and the music already feels better than ever as far as we’re concerned.  And it truly is the beginning.  It’s not all just face-melting guitar solos and it’s not going to be.  Although that’s in there.  It’s parts, it’s our pocket and cohesion as a band.  Just wait.

——–

Laurence.

We all miss him.  I miss him.  There are times when I expected him to come walking around the corner or expected him to be at the van.  It’s hard.  In Burlington I looked out over the audience and swore that I saw him for a second in the crowd.

I think the perception is that we replaced Laurence with Lyle.  It certainly looks that way, but this is really not the case.  You don’t replace Laurence Scudder.  You can’t.  (After he left some of the fans after shows would ask me, “So what are you going to do for viola now?”  The answer is we don’t have viola now.  We’re different now.  That’s just the way it is.  You can’t replace Laurence.)

Lyle had played some gigs with us in December, with all of us, including Laurence.  There are spatial and economic concerns with taking too many guys out on the road.  I wanted to try something different for a tour, leave Yahuba and Laurence at home and take a 5-piece out with Lyle.  Just to mix it up, stir the pot.  Not permanent, see how it works, try something different for once.

Laurence left.  Suddenly everything was permanent.

That’s about all I’ll say about that for now.  Suffice to say, I love Laurence Scudder and maybe in time our paths we lead back together again.  That dude put in seven of the most hardcore road years that you could imagine as a part of this band and I’d like to think that there’s quite a bond built up from that.  One which can never be broken.

For now, we’ll be heading down separate roads.

NEW ORLEANS-

Three weeks ago, I recorded ten tracks in two days at a beautiful studio in New Orleans and the session band was: George Porter Jr. on bass, Ivan Neville on keys, Anders Osborne on guitar, and Simon Lott on drums.  All put together by producer Ben Ellman, of Galactic.  Ben produces Trombone Shorty’s records.  After I wrote some lyrics for Shorty last year, the idea was, “Why don’t you write that kind of stuff for yourself and get into the studio with Ben and see what happens?”  So Ben put together this RIDICULOUS dream band of New Orleans players.  I freaked out about what material to bring to the table.  The next thing I knew I was in a vocal booth looking out at George Porter and talking song structure.  Totally surreal.

I still don’t know what it’s going to be called.  We tracked six originals and four SWEET covers.  I’m not sure every single song is going to make it onto the album, but the grooves are so deep, the pocket is so amazing on every track.  Truly humbled to have been able to work along side such players and such men.  It comes out this fall on “Ryan is Still His Own Record Label.”

And then Ryan Montbleau Band is going to get to work on our next one.

Chilly, rainy day in Lawrence, MA today.  Head is groggy from the road.  It’s hard to know what to do with yourself when you get home.  You know you should rest but six straight weeks at 80 miles per hour tells you other wise.  So you want to move, but your body just can’t.  You want to maybe think, read, create, but your brain won’t budge.  Everything’s fuzzy.  The lights seem dim.

Not knowing anything else, I played more of the little word game (Scramble 2) on my phone that got me through all those van hours.  I checked Twitter and Facebook a bunch, just like I did during all those van hours.  I watched YouTube.  Skate videos mostly, but eventually music.  Django Reinhardt, Stochelo Rosenberg, Brian Setzer.  And dug out this classic that perfectly suits my mood at the moment (thanks to Andrea for pointing me to the original version):

Also I put on The Barr Brothers CD earlier and was amazed by it.

In the last 45 days we did 35 cities in 25 states.  A few shows were lightly attended but most were not.  Mostly, we had some very good nights full of hardcores from all over the country singing back the words I wrote.  People drove from hours away to get to the shows or used the shows as an excuse to make trips to see old friends.  There was strength out there, there were stories of people being truly affected by the music.  Amazing.

One man in Seattle wandered backstage after the show and told me my music saved his life.  Later, his wife would email me saying that this was, in fact true.  He had gone through a period where he had grown more and more dark, more detached from his loved ones, eventually contemplating suicide.  Something about hearing “75 and Sunny” for the first time at one of the Martin shows this past spring just lit some kind of light back up in him.  Right then and there he started turning things around.

It’s still amazing to me as I type this out.  I think about the woman who named her baby “Patience Friday” or the stories about all kinds of children singing the words to “Eggs.”  Ever see this one?

I’m not sure why I bring all this up now.  I’m just thinking about it all as I sit here in my room for the first time in a while.

Guitar case sits by the door.  The van and trailer are parked in the drizzle outside.  Mail still sits in an enormous stack on the floor that I will put off for as long as possible.  My banjo sits on the unmade bed along with my camera case and a dirty shirt that I will surely continue to wear.

What did we just do out there?  Bringing up these stories is an extreme way of reminding me.

It’s sort of a weird platform for me to write this, but I’ll say it again:  I just want to get the art better.

(This is a weird platform because if you’re reading this, you’re likely a fan of the music I’ve already made.  You’re the only people in the world who might not want or expect better.  You’re the only people in the world who are ok with what I’ve already done.  But I digress…)

There are many more shows to play to close out this year, including a run with JJ Grey and Mofro starting next week, a bunch of our own dates through December, and New Year’s in Foxboro, MA.  These should all be a blast.  On our best nights now, I feel like the band has reached a nice place of looseness and tightness all at once.

And in January, when the real decompression starts to take place, much more than will this week, then I hope to buckle down and start creating in earnest.  I just want to get the art better.  I want to get it better and I believe that I can.  And it seems that a fair amount of people are listening now.

So I’ve got that going for me.  Which is nice.

We played for nine people in Kansas City tonight.  This is not an indication of how the tour has been going, it was the slowest night of the run by far.  We had as much fun with it as we could, played what felt right.  Actor Jeff Daniels (of Dumb and Dumber fame) played the early show, picked and sang the blues.  So it was a surreal night overall.

Nights as slow as this used to be much more commonplace.  At least they are a rarity now.  We sold out in Denver and also crushed it (by our standards) in Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, a bunch of others.  The other night we played Wichita, Kansas for the first time ever and that place was packed with die-hard fans who knew every single song.  People raging at 1am on Halloween to hear an original ballad.  Amazing.

So I’ve been at it enough years now to not fly into despair at an empty room every once in a while.  It just happens sometimes, that’s the nature of the beast.  Expectations are actually what lead to problems.

Sometimes you sell the place out in Denver.  On rare occasions you get to play a stadium opening for Dave Matthews Band.  And on other occasions you headline a club in  Kansas City on a Tuesday night.  This is the reality, this is a career.  I’ve been playing for ten years to get to the point where I can draw 81 people in Wichita, Kansas my first time around and have them all sing every word.

I’m proud of this.  If only for the fact that this whole thing has been almost entirely word of mouth.  And it seems that at least a fair amount of people will be listening from now on.  And I have so much more to create!

And that’s really the crux of it all.  I can spend so much time worrying about gig, gig, gig, email, email, email, that I start to lose sight of what I’m doing in the first place.  I’m creating music, y’all!  Amen.

Four days left, though, and I can feel that light at the end of the tunnel looming like a hot shower on a cold, wet, winter day.  Home.

Home.

Home.  So close to “Ohm,” it’s the same word really.  Scientifically proven to make you feel a sense of peace just by saying it.  Home.

And a week after that, we start another tour with JJ Grey and Mofro that should be a blast.  Then weekends through December around the Northeast.  Then New Year’s in Foxboro, MA.  Then a performing arts center in Maine the next day.  Then a showcase in NYC a week later.
And then something that you all should be very excited about:

I’m going to spend weeks at a time watching DVDs in bed with my girlfriend.

Why should this excite you?  Well, the band and I are taking almost two entire months off, meaning no gigs, nada, through the rest of January and February.  This is a big step for us.  We’ve never done this.

Again, why should this excite you?

Because this is what is going to allow us to keep going.  We haven’t stopped in seven years.  I have so much music to write, songs to finish, guitar to practice, conceptualizing to do.  I can’t do it from out here, and that’s where we’ve been the last seven years: out here on the road.

The light at the end of the tunnel that is DVDs in bed with my girlfriend.  Man, it makes a man teary-eyed just thinking about it.  And then all of the work to be done, all of the songs to write.

It’s pumping new life into our current shows, I can tell you that.  We’re giving every ounce of energy that we have to give.  And then all we want to do is get better.

And we’re going to.

"There's a feeling I get when I look to the west..."

So far so good.

Trailer Party

"Oh, me. Oh, I didn't see you there taking a picture of me, me."

Freedom.

Friend.

Friends. Oregon.

Hippie friends. (Thank you, Andrew.) That's Sunshine as in Garcia.

Essential.

Must get some rest along the way...

California.

Folick.

...

Oakley, UT

When the van broke down in Cali...

...we had to rent a box truck to travel in.

Dallas.

I looked so scary one morning that I took a picture.

What next...?

Speaking of jamming, I went and saw Phish the other night in Denver and had a blast.  Ended up sitting right behind the stage, with great sound and a great view.  Say what you will about Phish, I say this:

Phish is fun.  Some people like them too much, some people dislike them too much.  But if you’re missing the fun, you’re missing the point.

Phish is fun.

Not that everyone should like them.  Of course not.  They’re just so big that people get crazy passionate on both sides of the fence.

And their side of the fence is so big, that everyone's got an opinion.

After the show I ended up at Cervantes in Denver, where a band was still playing well past 4am.  And there wasn’t much of a crowd, but there were still people there.  The experience of this whole night seemed to really recharge my musical batteries.  There was a moment during the Phish show when I definitely felt the music transcend that room.  And then seeing the hardcore music heads still getting down at the crack of dawn on a Monday morning–man, that is some true love of music.  The good parts of the jam scene are the best parts of any.

I haven’t drank in three months.  Feels good.  Definitely feels different, especially on the road, but this is a very good thing.  Not sure how long I’ll keep it up.

It’s funny, I meet people fairly frequently who ask me if I’m in recovery.  I think it’s the nature of many of my lyrics.  I’m not.  I just think about this stuff quite a bit and am trying to nip this in the bud before I become an alcoholic or a drug addict, know what I’m saying?  I’ve met many people who are years ahead of me in this business and the ones who are sober are doing great.  The other ones?  They usually don’t look so good.  Hazards of the trade…

There honestly hasn’t been a whole lot of time to hang out and tie one on during this trip anyway.  It has actually been a fairly grueling tour so far.  We have eight of us on the road, with our own soundboard/tech and lights.  More equipment and people than we’ve ever had with early load-ins, late load-outs, and very few days off.

We sold out the show in Denver, which was all part of my fantastical Colorado experience that made me want to play more out west.  But even on the nights when the crowd isn’t very big, the energy sure is.  Audiences have really been fantastic.  They dance.  They listen.  They make me feel on top of the world.

As did jamming today in that basement with my band and my friends.  Some days I wonder what I was thinking making music my job.  Most days I am certain that I have the best job in the world.  And on a day like today, the job doesn’t even enter the picture.  Because the music is so much, much greater than anything else.

Give me two ears to listen and I’ll play one note with all I’ve got.

"You'd better back up, I don't know how big this thing gets."

We've been doing a lot of this.

And I haven't been doing any of this.

More important to do this.

So that I can do this.

And this.

(Seems like a big part of my blog in general is confessing my sins of not blogging.  So here we are.)

April 30th.  That was the last one…

We played the Fillmore after that.  And 27 more shows with Martin Sexton, including Bonaroo, The Crystal Ballroom in Portland, OR, the Nokia Theatre in Times Square, The House of Blues on Sunset Strip.  We lived in Martin’s tour bus and continued to open and back him up every night.  And then he had four shows opening for Dave Matthews Band.

It was quite an experience to be rolling around in a tour bus for two months, feeling on top of the world in that way, and then to roll  into Dave Matthews Land where he has ten tour buses, and twelve tractor-trailer trucks at every show.  And every night there are somewhere around 20,000 people in the amphitheater.  I shot a little video of me skateboarding through all of the tour buses in Ohio:

It’s funny how you ebb and flow and grow in this business.  During the Martin tour, I think I could feel my ambitions coming back down to earth a little bit.  This may be hard to explain, but I’ll try:

When you first start out, you say you’re humble, you say you’re realistic and maybe your are in some ways.  But in other ways, you just want to be the next Beatles.  You’ll be playing stadiums someday.  Top of the world!

Then you hit the road and don’t see home for a week and it’s amazing.  Then you don’t see home for a month.  Then you’ve been touring more or less for a year.  Then six years.  Seven.  It’s still amazing, but it’s just a fair amount of time is all I’m saying.  You don’t see home much, but what you do see in that time are clubs.  Lots and lots of them.  The gigs are your reality now, they are real, not just some dream.

So the reality of actually playing that stadium is just that now:  a reality when you think about it and not the fantasy that you once had.  Maybe it’s possible, but based on history, it is highly unlikely.  And that’s ok.  Plenty of clubs out there.  Plenty of nice theaters in plenty of towns with room to grow.  Hell, we played the Fillmore!  We can make a living and express ourselves and see the world in this.  This is good.  We can still very much live the dream.  But the dream has come back down to earth a bit.  Maybe we’ll never play a stadium, but we’ll get wherever we get.

And my point in all of this is to say:  when we rolled up behind the scenes and experienced Dave Matthews Land, I was like, “F*ck all that, I want to rule the world!!”  It sparked that ambition again.  Seeing that freakish level of success, all the hired professionals, the gear, the operation, the catering…

When I first started getting to tour with Martin Sexton, it was like I stuck my head up through the ceiling and could see another floor.  Now I was doing that again, but starting from Martin’s room and seeing an even bigger floor.  Crazy.

We also finished a record since my last blog, produced by Mr. Sexton, which is now available, and which I am very proud of.  Above all, I believe this record is a step in the right direction for us.  And I’m already starting to write a million other tunes that I just need to finish.  (That’s always the kicker, the initial inspiration is usually the easy part.)

Summer was good.  A little harder than I had planned on, but it was good.  We played out every weekend and during the week I managed to spend some time with my girlfriend, which is always a miracle.  She lives on Martha’s Vineyard and I live well north of Boston.  So it’s a two-and-a-half hour drive plus a ferry ride to see each other.  It ain’t easy but we make it work, and it’s heaven when we do.

And now the record is out and I’m back on the road again.  She’s at a friend’s wedding in New Jersey without a date and I’m in Rochester setting up for a show at Water Street.

As for the band and the tour, we have a new trailer, new bunks in the van, a new lighting rig, soundboard, merch setup, our own sound guy and light guy, and a new CD with some new songs to play.

Time to go to work!  (Hope you have fun at the wedding, baby.)