It seems that two weeks ago, in rehearsing my new song “Blow” I banged up my vocal chords pretty good over the course of days.  Then I had three performances in a week, and never stopped to let them rest. Then I started writing a new song (tentatively titled “Spiders”) which I could not stop working on. So more days spent singing and working for hours without rest. I finally managed to stop for two days, and on the third day I picked up my guitar, thinking I could manage to just sing softly for a short time, like an alcoholic who believes he can just drink a little bit. Four hours later I was sore again.

So now, my guitar is safely with a friend to prevent me from hurting myself again until I am healed.

I’m a creataholic. But I’m telling you, this song is GOOD.

And I need to be reminded of that power, because for most people, full bands will always have the upper hand. Our ears are just more attracted to rich, full-spectrum sound than the nasally whinings of some loudmouth malcontent like me. And that can be intimidating as a solo artist.

But it turns out that no other albums have had the deep EMOTIONAL power over me as these two. In fact, no album in my life has brought me to tears more than Sincerely. The stark emptiness of the sound created by a solo artists means that their voices, and their WORDS, rest in deep relief. What they say, and how they say it, becomes a part of the music, and in this way can connect with people in ways full bands simply cannot. The words and the meanings are lost in the sound.