Gratitude is like coffee; life is much better with it. And it is with gratitude that I find myself looking back on 2022 (with a black coffee steaming beside me, mind you), trying to take stock of all of the grand moments and pivotal happenings that made this year so momentous for me. It was a big one, folks. Forgive me the long-windedness, perhaps it’s the caffeine making me sentimental, but I’d like to share some of this thankfulness into the ether as this year comes to a close.
That little pandemic we had a ways back undoubtedly lit a fire under me. Playing in touring bands over the past couple of decades, I’d worked up quite a collection of solo songs that had no home. There just wasn’t any time to give them the place and space they deserved. That is until there was nothing but time. The historic pandemic adventures and subsequent lockdowns provided not only the time needed to sort out all of these tunes but also lent new experiences and days of lonely and depressing reflections that only fueled more writing. In short, I had more songs than I knew what to do with (gratitude) and they needed to be born.
Twenty Twenty-Two was a year of birth for me in many ways. With the veil of lockdown lifted, I gathered up my fledgling songs like a mama duck and led them out into the world, solo and sans-band, teaching them to fly in listening rooms and songwriter nights at bars, refining them by campfire light and lanterns burning midnight oil. I know, I wax eye-rollingly poetic. But to me, this year is worthy of the bardic treatment of an epic tale. It’s the grand beginning of deciding to just take those first steps alone. Now, these songs were of a different “genre” than I had ever played or marketed before. I was in a new world. I found myself starting from scratch again, trying to book shows at venues with people I had never met, going to new places, establishing a name, finally being a songwriter-for-real. I was reminiscent of a younger me in the 90’s, dropping off freshly burned CD-Rs at seedy clubs, trying to get a gig and a foot in the door. And here I am again, a newborn, and honestly, I am just loving it. Gratitude.
Gratitude for the people. I met some truly amazing ones this year. Dallas Burrow and his family of The Redbird Listening Room fame come to mind. Sterling Finlay and Missoula Slim up at The Cheatham Street Warehouse. A smattering of incredibly gifted songwriters and kindred spirits like Bear Ryan, Austin Gilliam, David Touchton, Adam Hooks and his infamous Huckleberries, Cristal Casey-Moore, Nell Baeten, RD Black, Michael Hess, and Alexander Lucas, just to name a few off the top of my head. I met the legendary drummer Hector Muñoz who somehow agreed to play in a band with me. I reconnected with heavy hitters Mac McNabb and Billy Dansfiell who unbelievably agreed to the same. My family, my daughter, and my loving and supportive partner-in-crime wife, Laura B. Smith, are my warm cabin in the stormy chaos of life. I am lucky to have them and wouldn’t be me without them. Gratitude.
The year was a whirlwind tossing around a rocket ship. I played a scorching debut show in Taylor Texas at the Black Sparrow Music Parlor with veteran luminaries Robert Williamson and Joe Fladger backing me up. I screamed out a punk-rock set for punk-rock gods The Oxys in New Orleans (thanks to Jason Kottwitz, Phil Davis, Gabe, Jamey Simms, and Rob). I scored a little acoustic residency at the historic Phoenix Saloon. I collaborated with Rhoades D’Ablo in Nashville on some projects (one having me pen lyrics for Cherie Currie of The Runaways!). I saw Charley Crockett play an impromptu acoustic set inside at John T. Floore Country Store. I could go on and on, but have gratitude, I will spare you the tedium. You’re welcome.
And that brings me back to gratitude and coffee (the latter of which I am now out of), life is best with it. I’m not trying to come off preachy or like a greeting card in this diatribe. It hasn’t all been breezy and sunny. Sure, life can be a challenge full of stormy skies and dark days (see depression-filled lonely days of lockdown madness above), but experiences are just that: experiences. And I’ve found that the sun still shines behind every cloud. It has to. It’s what it does without any thought or care to whatever it is that I have going on. Every experience we have makes us who and what we are. The beauty of this whole arrangement is that we get to pick how these things shape us. Even the “bad” can make you a badass. Gratitude and curiosity are the keys to changing any set of circumstances to make this thing called life infinitely better. That’s my lesson learned in 2022.
And here is where I find myself on the sunset of 2022, out of coffee but full of hope and excitement for what is to come. I’ll keep working at it and I hope to see you in an even cooler place this time next year. Keep an eye out for me and I will for you. Keep rambling and I’ll see you out on the trail. I’d be grateful if you kept the coffee hot and black for me. Happy New Year!