Story ‘bout Fond Du Lac (Banned, then Welcomed Back)

Fond Du Lac, Wisconsin is a lovely little town on the edge of Lake Winnebago not far from Lake Michigan. Think: quaint town square, Norman Rockwellian vibes and wholesome middle America values. My band The Nixons, played a show at the Fond Du Lac County Fair on Tuesday July 18, 1995. I don’t recall many exact dates. I know this one because of some photographic evidence, included with this blog. 

We arrived on the scene early in the day. Our crew set up, we sound checked then retreated back stage to catering for dinner. Prolly, some sort of chicken dish, salad, veggies and cookies at the end. Or was it apple pie? Somewhere in the midst of the pre-show hang, a big burly fella barged in and proceeded to get in my face. Now, his wording here 30 years later, cannot possibly be exactly right but something like…

“I know you damn ROCK bands, with your long stringy hair, loud f**king guitars and amps. And you better not drop one damn curse word on stage. Or I will pull the plug on you motherf**kers!” 

Stormed out. 

Our amazing tour manager Paul Silveria looked at me. Shook his head and said something like “don’t you dare”.

If you’ve seen my band you know we start a lot of sets with the song “Head”. It’s got a long intro (music peeps: we just ride an E chord. For. Ever). 

I stepped up the mic during that long E chord.

Ahem.

“This really cool dude just cornered me backstage and kinda laid out the ground rules. Told me, while using some pretty colorful language, I better not curse. Or he was pulling the plug. And he was really thorough in his instructions. Said I couldn’t say…

“F*ck

sh*t

damn

motherf*cker…”

And then I said a few more. 

And in the second quickest time ever being cutoff during “Head” (see Dream Theater fire vs. china cymbal incident). 

They shut us down. 

Then sirens. 

Good ol’ Paul the genius tour manager. Grabbed me. Threw me on the bus and yelled to get me to the hotel. I still remember looking out the window marveling at the red and blue lights of several cop cars. 

Next morning. Front page headline.

Band kicked out of Fair forswearing. 

And my picture. 

Look mom, I made the front page!

Solid story. 

And that could be the end. But there’s a part 2.

Fast forward to March of 2008. I had moved into songwriting and producing other bands. And did yearly visits to SXSW (big music conference/shindig in Austin). And had bands I was contending to write with and produce. One was from, wait for it, Fond Du Lac. I show up to the bar they were playing. Met the band and management. Manager starts by telling me he knew the state fair story and was friends with the new chief of police. He then presented me with a framed letter from the new chief, lifting the ban and calling me a welcomed visitor. 

One of my favorite exchanges in my favorite movie is:

Glen: …crazy world.

H.I.: Yeah, someone outta sell tickets.

Glen: Sure, I’d buy one. 

Maybe I should visit Wisconsin.

#New Music

That’s a popular #.

But it’s truly exciting to someone like me. Someone who write songs. Mostly for other folks. But sometimes. Sometimes I write songs for me. Co-write songs with my guys in that band The Nixons. 

And let me tell ya, we are knee deep. 

I have 5, maybe 6 new solo songs. The Nixons have 2 brand new/newly written rock songs. 

I won’t tell you too much. Just this: 

Nixons song 1, is about a murder that happened when I was a teenager in Ada, OK. Man, that shit rocked my little hometown. 

Nixons song 2, it’s about surviving. Even when things seem hazy. 

Solo songs. Everything from angels, regret, walking away and the end of the world (and who you’d wanna be hanging with the asteroid or alien stuff happens. Spoiler alert: my wife).

The Nixons songs were a blast. Me sending ideas to Jess, John and Ricky. Them telling me…um no. But sometimes, oh thats cool! John tracked drums in Edmond, OK. With our pal Paige Harwell engineering and basically co-producing with the band (he’s badass). Then Ricky did bass things up on his mountain lair. Jesse killer the guitars on both songs, as he always does.

Solo songs, mostly me. I did bring in a perty badass drummer (he’s in a dang cool and big ol’ rock band). And some awesome players, engineers and one of my favorite mixers.

All this being said. Thank you to all of ya. For playing along. Listening. And being awesome.

Stay tuned.

#newmusic

New Release - Crashed On Your Shore

Zac's Not Dead

Sitting on the tour bus around midnight, at the end of that long day, Ricky (bass player & occasional back-up screamer for my band The Nixons) told me, “We just kept on playing after you fell off stage and disappeared. But I kept wondering…what if he’s dead down there. How long do we keep playing? Then you jumped back onstage”.

Earlier that day, at sound check at the lovely Patchogue Theater on Long Island, Michael (our sound man, tour manager and general fixer of all things) pulled me aside and said, “Zac look at this orchestra pit at the edge of the stage. That thing you do where you jump out into the audience…don’t do that tonight. That’s 8 feet down onto concrete.” This was the third to last stop on an amazing summer tour with Everclear & Fastball. And as fate would have it, during the end of our last song “1X1”, I stuck my boot out over that pit, slipped & fell backwards 8 feet down landing on my hand & hip. The ER doc told me later it was essentially the equivalent of a car crash. 

Still kinda sore a few months later. 

One broken finger, a few bruises and a surgery later…I’m able to reflect that all in all, I’m pretty lucky. Could’ve been worse. 

All the cliches apply. 

I had been joining Everclear during their set for their killer cover of “The Boys Are Back in Town”. I called Michael from the ER, told him to make sure Art (singer & badass for the band) knew that I wouldn’t be able to join them onstage tonight. He simply replied that everyone knew. However, Art told me the next day he had looked for me side stage before the Thin Lizzy cover & asked his monitor guy where I was. “Still at the ER I assume”. 

That’s how Art found out. The next night when he brought me up, he told the story of the orchestra pit only this time it was 9 feet. The next night, 12. By the time we played a festival a few weeks later, Art claimed I’d fallen 14 feet down. 

What’s that saying? Don’t let a lie get in the way of a good story…

My surgeon, Dr. Weikert (we had kids in school together, so I knew him to be a great dude & perhaps the best orthopedic hand doc in the country) told me post op, it was the worse break he’d seen. Knowing he’d worked on professional athletes here in Nashville, I asked how that could be possible. He simply replied, they were pads, gloves, protective gear. 

Ahh, yeah.

He also thought it would be funny to have Nixons music piped in during the surgery. As I drifted off, “1X1” began to play. Last thing I remember, I told them all “This is the song we were playing when I fell”. They got a kick out of that.

I am, in fact, thankful it wasn’t worse. I’m also happy to report, I somehow scampered up & out of that 16 feet deep orchestra pit to finish the set. It was also lucky the last two gigs were NYC & Boston where my two sons each live. They jumped up for those gigs to cover guitar duties for the injured me.

Finally, I am thrilled to answer Ricky’s question. 

Nope, not dead yet.

Selling Light - Here's whats up...

Since live music went away and we all locked down, I’ve actually released more music than I have in any stretch for many years. The Nixons dropped (hipster kid slang alert) our Sonic Boom EP and I released two solo EP’s; Lead Singer Syndrome Volumes 1 & 2. Now, we’re actually getting geared up to play live shows again, it’s time for one more release. Over the years I’ve written a batch of songs with my pals David Hodges, Tom Douglas and Bob Dipiero. I sang new vocals on all 5 and added a few more bells and whistles. I also wrote one new song by myself, “Selling Light”. Which is what I will be calling the EP: Selling Light  (see glossary for “title track”. Kidding there’s no glossary). 

I am really excited about this thing. I love the two LSS releases but this one is the closest to my heart in terms of songs that I have a deeper connection to. I’m also super excited to announce a few guest appearances. My friends and guitar badasses Tyler Bryant and Charlie Sexton added some killer parts on “Selling Light” and “Little Amens” respectively. And the amazing singer, author and human, Allison Moorer provided her awesome vocals on the song “Tennessee Gold” which turned out great! I also snagged my talented son Jude Maloy to play some piano on one. “Steady Hearts For Future Storms”, “Little Amens”, “All Who Wander” (which was cut and released by a killer Canadian band, Petric) and “Words Are Medicine” (this was cut also by an up and comer named Tim McGraw) round out the 6 song set.

Having written and been part of songs alongside all the talented artists I have been lucky enough to work with is a blessing that I do not take for granted any day that goes by. But there’s still something special about putting your own name on something and releasing it into the universe. I sang these songs, bounced ‘em down, put ‘em on my phone and listened in the car, on runs, mowing the lawn. Then, retreated back into the studio and recut the vocals. 5 times. Okay, 9 times. As thrilling as it is it’s also terrifying, to put your name on something. So, I gave it hell and I hope you all love it as much as I am proud to get it out there. Watch for it soon!

31 Million Seconds

There are a little over 31 million seconds in a year. I wonder where we’ll all be, how we’ll all be, when those next ones click off. 

A little over 31 million seconds ago, in late 2019, I was reflecting on a cool Nixons tour through most of the eastern part of the country. New music we were prepping to release. Songs I had coming with other artists. Booking flights for my writers for the upcoming Oklahoma Songwriters Festival. Locking in a couple Nixons new tours and shows. And a bunch of other stuff.

Then, as I sat in front of my telly, waiting to watch my fav NBA team, the Thunder play…in one second. One moment. All that stuff I had planned. We all had planned. Everything. Changed. When a player on OKC’s opposing team tested positive. For a virus none of us had heard of a few months before. That moment at an NBA game started the dominos falling. Game canceled. Games canceled. Season postponed. Shows canceled. Tours off. You guys know the rest. You know the numbers. I’m not gonna go back through all the things we’ve all lived through this year.

Just gonna say: I’m gonna savor every second in this next year. Cause you just don’t know if in one second, things could change again. And from what? Who knows. 

It sucks The Nixons couldn’t do that tour we had planned. Y’all would have loved it. It’s a bummer I had to do my songwriters fest with just me and one dude on stage, and several other songwriters remotely performing.

But you know what. Good things did happen. The Nixons DID release new music. And I’m incredibly proud of it. We did do a livestream from Texas, that was so much fun and so rewarding to see how many folks watched. In November we taped a show at a place called Toucan Productions that will air early ’21. We got to use all their fancy toys. Wrap around video walls. Light show from hell. It’s gonna be badass. I might even watch:)

I have tons of music I’ve written over the years that never found light of day. Stuck at home. Bored. Listening back. Decided, screw it, let’s release it. So I did. Not one but two E.P.’s. Solo releases for the first time since 2004. I did pull off that songwriter event and was blown away at the messages from other states, countries that watched online. 

Right at the beginning of this whole thing, I got a call from my pals in Shinedown letting me know they were releasing a song I had cowritten several years earlier called “Atlas Falls” for charity, to their fans. That song has generated over half a million dollars for Direct Relief, who provide support to frontline medical workers. Oh yeah, it went to #1 on the rock chart. 

There’s good stuff out there. 

Wait a second. 

One second. 

Take a breath. 

We’re all gonna take a bunch of ‘em this year. Those 31 million plus seconds are gonna tick away no matter what you or I think or want or hope. 

Soak up every one. Eat up every one. Maybe we’ll count the last few down together next year.

10 (the month my wife was born), 9, 8 (the month I was born. The day of the month my oldest son was born).

7 (my favorite number)

6, 5 (high ones to all y’all), 4, 3,

2, 1 (the month my youngest was born).

Zero. The amount of regrets I hope you all have when this year ends. 

Peace. 

Be nice and be good. 

z

Song Through the Years

My wife and I moved to Dallas sometime in 1998. Bought a little house in midtown and got to work painting and redoing the cool bungalow style place listening to music on a boombox. The Verve album Urban Hymns had just come out and was on regular rotation during many coats of something called “contemplation” in one room and “rye” in another. Songs “Sonnet” and the ever ubiquitous “Bittersweet Symphony” were killer, but for bonafide next level status see exhibit: “The Drugs Don’t Work”. I had first heard the song in the days following the death of Lady Diana. I found out recently it was officially sent to radio September 1, 1997 one day after her death. My band The Nixons played Mississippi nights in St. Louis the night of August 31 and my soon to be wife was visiting. My sound man, Howard, came over post show to tell me the tragic news. Now the sad anthem wafted through the paint stained air with the most beautiful melancholy maybe of any song I’ve ever heard. 

Maybe because it was attached to that tragic royal memory, or the hours on repeat redoing the first house I owned. I kept on coming back. Fast forward to 2010. Now in Tulsa with two small children and, somehow and luckily, the same wife. A dear friend and acclaimed photographer Kelly Kerr had just heard the news that I was relocating my family to Nashville to more seriously pursue a career in songwriting. He made me an offer to come to my studio and professionally film me singing a few songs. I knew instantly one had to be “The Drugs Don’t Work” and he suggested getting super talented local singer songwriter Ben Kilgore to sing along. We did it and I moved. Kelly got busy, I got distracted and we never actually did anything with the video.

Now here I sit in the midst of a lockdown because of a pandemic doing what we’re all doing. Sharing funny posts about being stir crazy, and trying to keep doing what we do. One thing I do is make music. So, I’ve done the obligatory sing a song and post; do a 4 screen video with my band and also dug up some old stuff. I reach out to Kelly. He emailed some pics from photo shoots he’d done. Then reminded me of the video sessions he’d done and that he “hit the mother load” …sent that 10 year old video of me and Ben singing this classic Verve song.

I watch it now and just transport. Back to Tulsa. In some ways more stressful times. In some ways simpler. Now those two small children are in college (at home) and headed to college (I hope).

I watch it now and remember. Damn, a great song is just…great. Real, raw lyrics and an indelible melody. And Ben’s harmonies help.

Listen. 

Think back. 

Listen.

Love each other.

Be safe.

z

Chaos Theory

My kid isn’t a kid anymore. He’s a physics major in college.

Damn.

He was born the day the Nixons break up began. Now we’re back making loud noises and he’s kicking ass in his world. He mentioned this thing called Chaos Theory.

I won’t attempt to fully delve into it cause that would be hilarious. And stupid. But essentially, it’s a mathematical theory that states that events can go through the same process with completely different results if only one tiny thing changes.

It’s funny cause I always thought of a Nixons show as an experiment in chaos. And over the years I watch bands, solo artists and performers and start to notice patterns. Certain go to moves, certain cues they play off with band mates.

And full disclosure: I’m down with that. For those artists it works. They know what their crowd wants to see, to hear. I just always thought for our band, our fans needed a little chaos.

We needed a little chaos.

It’s also probably why we broke up, didn’t speak for 17 years and why we are now back together playing, writing, releasing music in a way I’m not sure we ever have. When a club owner asked me at one of the first reunion shows, “you gonna do fire”? I said, “I didn’t figure it would be okay”. He said, “if ya feel it, go for it…we got extinguishers on each side of the stage”. I did feel it, and we did burn some stuff.

Chaos.

We also moved and still move across the stage in a way that inevitably involves a collision. Me and Ricky. Jess and Ricky. Me and the drum riser. Or a fall: me off a lighting truss ending in jail in Houston. Ricky into his bass cabinet resulting in blood. Me off the side of a Deep Ellum stage ending in broken finger (thanks Dr. Tom for the late night reset). We have never ended “Happy Song” the exact same way. Or “1X1”(okay, that’s also cause I seem to forget a line or two every time we do it. Even after a million years).

Chaos.

We do the same thing. A rock show. Same guitars, drums, dudes. Generally, same songs…

Events can go through the same process with completely different results if only one tiny thing changes

Those last minute decisions to wear a towel as opposed to pants (Trees circa 90s), to duct tape my guitar to my body when my strap broke then light said guitar on fire and realize instantly that was a bad idea (east coast?), to smash a guitar that bounced back up to crack my head right around the widows peak area (Edgefest) (more blood), to jump into the drums and forget the next few seconds (black out) (Whiskey A-Go-Go).

That’s what we did and will do. To a different degree at the ages we all are. Though…I still love a little on stage fire and a dive out into those crowds.

Keep coming. Keep catching me.

Keep bailing me out of jail.

Keep the chaos.

z

Nixons rhymes with Kittens..kinda

I’m playing a co-headlining acoustic show soon with Tyson Meade. He was the frontman for the Chainsaw Kittens. I will now step outside my body, re-read that and truly not really be able to believe it. For those of you who don’t know the Kittens; here’s the perspective from me. Let’s back up and go to the brain (and heart and guts) of my 20 year old self. I was a student at OU in Norman, OK. Just getting my rock band, The Nixons, off the ground. What you do in that case is look around at other bands and artists. Here are the first two I had front and center in the local scene: Flaming Lips and Chainsaw Kittens. Both those bands moved us in a massive way. Now, if you know The Nixons music, you’re thinking...what the hell? There’s not much of those bands influence in The Nixons. But, yeah there is. Especially the live shows. They both rocked. They went all out. All in. Lights. Sweat. Show. And personality. They were just cool. And we just wanted to be some version of that.

Fast forward to an event I founded, The Oklahoma Songwriters Festival. Last year was year 3. It’s a 3 day event where we bring in songwriters from Nashville to perform, write and talk music in OKC. On the way to an event one night I get a text:

“...Tyson Meade here. I am proud of what you’re doing with your song fest. I would love to introduce you at the Saturday event and say a few words”.
He did intro me that year and tell flattering stories and say nice things. Fast forward again (last time) to this past Fest. He got on stage and we performed “She’s Gone Mad” together. Rewind (last time for that too) to me playing

acoustic gigs in Norman in college. I played songs and many nights not many people paid much attention. But that song. It was by that cool band that literally lives down the street. Made those nights better. Getting to duet it with Tyson over 20 years later was truly awesome.

Now, the moment that might just best it (woven into a shameless plug). Tyson and I will share the stage again in Tulsa July 26. Vanguard (plug #2: go buy tickets). We will trade songs. I will sing one, then the Kitten, then the Nixon, etc.

Selfishly, I would’ve done this just for fun. No money. Don’t tell the Vanguard that.

“She’s gone mad again, she does it silently. And all of the feathers from her pillow fall on the floor. And does this mean, she doesn’t love me anymore?”

Location, location, location

From my real estate friends, I know how important that “L” word is. And I could argue it’s pretty damned important in songwriting too. Here are 3 ways I can make that contention.

First, let’s call it curb appeal: the title. When do you get your first chance to grab folks? Title. Make sure it does its job! Here are a few examples: Cop Car, Sympathy for the Devil, Cake by the Ocean, Bitch, She Don’t Use Jelly. Like a nice flowerbed framing a well manicured Japanese Maple offsetting an old refurbished barn door turned front door. I wanna know more! 

Second: floor plan. You’ve walked through that open house and gotten to that one bedroom that has a door leading into a random room that has yet another door that leads to the back yard. Confused? Yeah, and how ‘bout that song where verse 2 seems to lead nowhere and references nothing else in the song whatsoever? Write each line so that it leads back to the concept; the title; Feng Shui y’all. 

Last, and I’m gonna argue this is one of the most important. AND I am gonna assume you already know where the hook goes (I mean, you know exactly where to put the claw foot tub, right?). I say one of the truly underrated and most important locations in songwriting is that line or two before the hook. Take “In Color” by Jamey Johnson. Hell yes the lyric and hook “you should’ve seen it in color” is one of the coolest lines ever. But arguably “if it looks like we were a couple of kids just trying to save each other…” sets that line up in a downright immaculate way. 

So, definitely put that apartment building next to the future site of the soccer stadium. And, by all means, plant trees to break up the site line to the power plant. But man, make sure you put your song and all it’s parts in the all the right places. 

When Music Heals

I’ve been lucky enough to have written a few hit songs as a writer and former artist. And to have had around 200 songs cut and released on major and indie record labels over the years.

But the best part of what I do, is provide a little goodness in someone’s life when it’s maybe just not so good. I cannot tell you how many people have sent letters, messages and personal “thank you’s”; because of a song I was part of writing or recording. 

It started with my band the Nixon’s highest charting song, “Sister”. Regardless of the fact that my sister’s move to the west coast provided the inspiration for the song; it became a touchstone for siblings that I never really saw coming as a twenty something, long haired rock singer from Oklahoma. But I now know of that song being played at countless memorial services or just “getting us through a tough time”. It continued with my solo release “Early Morning Phone Call” which prompted much more of the same. I did write this one when I actually lost my grandfather, who was a huge musical and life influence on me. Turns out people could relate. Then came “Temporary Home”; it has been used in charity campaigns for everything from veterans to housing initiatives. When you write a song like that, as I did with the superb Carrie Underwood, you don’t think about that or see it coming.

But, I think perhaps I just witnessed the power of music in one of the most profound ways ever this past weekend. My sons and I sang at a service for a family friend we lost. And midway through the third stanza of “Amazing Grace”; I looked down and saw the family on the front row…smiling. They had not done much, if any of that recently. And just seeing and hearing 3 friends/father and sons strumming the simplest of chords, singing a familiar song, maybe helped them heal. 

Just a little. 

Music is amazing. Music has made careers, paid for houses, made people dance and provided a soundtrack for millions of lives.

My favorite part: when music heals.

GETTIN' THE BAND BACK TOGETHER

We all hugged mildly awkward hugs and started loading in drums, guitars and amps into a friend's sound and lighting company in OKC (he'd given us a big area with a PA to rehearse). We sifted through "what you been up to's" and "I can't believe your kid I haven't seen in over a decade's going to college" and "what was that one guys name that used to run lights at Trees?" We recounted stories about bars, shows, stages, green rooms, vans, trailers, the RV, buses, bus drivers, studios, video sets and yeah, even jail (that last one will have to be a blog unto itself). As I listened and talked and watched each band member shuffling around from guitar case to amp or tightening a snare drum it hit me again: us 4 human beings had not been in the same room together in over 15 years. All that life we'd lived together then suddenly...poof, it just wasn't. My band the Nixons formed in 1990 in Norman, Ok and rumbled along till somewhere in the beginning the new century when we just walked away. And here we were together after all that time.

We got down to business finally as I said something like...
"Well, let's do this"
First song on the set list, "Head"...
4 high hat hits...
Big e chord then I start singin' "Lonely little girl on your island..."
Wow. Felt pretty much like we'd just done it last week.
Weird. Cool.

Jesse's guitar amp was still too loud. Ricky's too. John was too loud but, yeah, John hits hard. But it just didn't matter. We just locked back in and jammed songs we'd not played together since before my oldest son was born (he's going to college this year). The shows were great fun. We even recorded a new song called "Song of the Year." And thanks to modern tech: we all tracked in different cities but made it happen.

So there ya go. Make music together and you can always come back together. Reminisce. Rock. Create.
Funny. Music connects and revives.
Keep listening.

z

PIECES OF A SONG PT. 1 'THE VERSE'

There's no science in songwriting. Well, Rivers Cuomo might disagree. But there is some method to the madness. I'm gonna do a short series of mini-blogs about the art, method, struggle and magic of writing a song. Let's start at the beginning...

Verse 1.

I'd argue that the most important part of a song is the hook. We'll save that for later. The next most important, I'd argue is the line right before the hook. Some might say the title is up there too. Truth is, it's all way important, but we're here to talk verse. See, without the verse, there's no chorus, or hook.

Here's the experiment: we're gonna write a song (you're not getting any publishing). And I will take a look at each section, with each blog. While, this first one's about the verse, we're still gonna need a title. For our purposes, let's go with "Ferris Wheel". And let's just say for the sake of focus, that it's a country song. Not "twangy" country. We don't really do that around here. So, if I walked into a writing room with that title, the next thing that would be discussed is...what's the concept here? What's it about? Is it about the guy who invented the Ferris Wheel? Well, no that's awful. Is it about a runaway Ferris Wheel that destroyed a town? Of course not. It's obviously about a boy and girl who met on one.

So, verse 1. We need to establish...what's up? A carnival or fair has clearly come to a, we'll say small, town. Bobby is a bit of an outsider and Jenny is the prom queen. They're both in line for the, well you know; and they end up sitting on it together (wonder if anything happened interesting to put them in that fateful position? Remember that for verse 2). Then we need to establish what happens. In this case and in around 60% of all modern songs, they fall in love (yes, there was a study). We should, also set the scene best we can. Fill it out with some heart racing and introspection.

So something like this:
Small town, summer love started at the county fair
Jenny's waiting to take a ride Bobby's trying not to stare
Somehow they end up together his heart starts beating fast
Funny where you sometimes find the one, the one that's gonna last

Tune in soon for the next mini-blog: The Chorus, where things get...BIG.

STAY WITH THE SONG

I've had the pleasure of working with and becoming friends with the incredibly talented Travis Hill, who writes under the name Scooter Carusoe. Travis has written several hit songs, including perhaps my favorite country song ever, "Anything But Mine". Go listen and I'll wait.

See? Right? The melody on that "Cleveland" part. The verse lyrics that just put you in that seaside pavilion seeing them laugh when they trade "I love you's" cause they know it's not true.

I sat recently on a panel at a songwriter's event and he talked a lot about grinding...staying with a song. And I also can tell you he practices what he preaches. We have written a dozen songs together and not one happened in a day. We talk, get coffee, talk, maybe start a little idea; grab lunch, get a little further down the road on the idea; decide it's not quite right and make a minor adjustment that makes the whole first verse unusable, then we have to end the session to go pick up our kids at school (we record where the song is at into our phones before we leave).

Then we reconvene the next week and exchange notes. This is where he usually says something about waking up early this morning with a new first verse; which turns out to be brilliant; but makes the bridge not quite right. We plug in all the pieces then play the song down into our phones.

He calls me the next day and says he sat in bed last night tweaking the ending; one little twist makes the song all the more poignant. He sends me a voice memo of the latest version of our song.

Some days I write a song and demo it by happy hour. But with Travis I know it's gonna be different. That's his process and it works. Find your process (and trust it like Philly) and get to work.

Time Capsule: A Song Comes to Life

Susan Farris sat next to her family piano as a child, sometime around 1975, listening to her mom sing and play a song called “Remembering”.

Her mother is now suffering from dementia and hasn't been able to sing that or any song for many years. She was a small-town piano teacher and was proficient enough to write the music and lyrics, creating sheet music for her masterpiece. Those two pages sat, hidden away, in a box somewhere with other trinkets and memories from the past. Susan’s husband, Charles, got an email about our new online recording studio called studioautomatic.com and immediately thought of his wife’s stories of hearing her mom sing. He emailed us to ask a simple question: “your site says to upload a rough version of your tune and we will send you back a fully formed pro recording within a few days…can you work from sheet music?”

I didn’t know all the details so asked Charles to call me and pass along more info. Is the sheet music for real? Does the song exist in an arrangement that makes sense as a modern song? I then asked him to send me a pdf of the music. I must admit to tearing up a little as I sat in an airport looking at my iPhone and reading the words to this song from the past.

I started with Tim, one of the most talented piano players in Nashville. He sat and played the first version of “Remembering” complete with backing piano and him plunking out the melody of the vocal.

My team then added drums, bass, guitars and ultimately we snagged Jenna, an aspiring singer here in Music City to cut the vocals. Everyone who worked on the song had the same response, which was this surreal feeling of bringing a song to life that quite literally didn’t exist in any audio form for around 40 years.

I love being part of this website that allows people to hear their songs recorded, mixed and mastered by the same people who work on major label projects. This song was even more special. The Farris family loved the finished project and made comments about never imagining they'd ever hear that song again. 

One passage from the song “lonely days that follow, all these memories linger on.” Now these words, these lyrics, these emotions can, in fact, linger on.

We loved doing this song and bring on the sheet music!

Van and Trailor vs. the Internet

Okay, here I go sounding like the old guy talking “back in my day” again. The truth is technology is changing so fast, that guy could have actually been born when grunge was the thing (google Seattle music or Soundgarden). And while lots of folks complain about what the cursed internet has done to music, and while I could easily call Pandora the devil’s work, a whole lot of things have changed for the better.

Van #1-Brownie. Okay, this was actually a mini-van. When I made the decision to give this music thing a chance I sold my Jeep Renegade and bought a Ford Astro van from a lady who had been using it to move her paintings. It was sans chairs of any kind and covered wall to wall in carpet. Not cool Dazed and Confused carpet. Just plain, office grade stuff. We all met at my house in Norman, Ok, packed our gear and hit the road for our first out of town gig in Stillwater, Ok roughly 70 minutes away. But damn it we told everyone of our friends we were on tour.

Van #2-The Banana. Yeah, cause it was yellow (too easy?). This was a big step up from Brownie. Full sized, customized and we finally had that sweet 70’s shag this time. Here’s how we bought The Banana. My dad worked for the Dept. of Transportation and was put in charge of finding a band for their annual Christmas party, or yearly retreat or something. Now, the only place worse than a corporate event for a band who was in full on refuse-to-turn-down-or-play-covers mode to play, is an event for state employees. Listen, I was a state employ once (different story for a different time centering around me holding a “stop/slow” sign on the side of the highway) and I’ve met cool state employees. But a room full of them drinking punch out of paper cups at noon…

Why’d we do it? We’d just seen an ad for a perfect van upgrade, cost, 3500. Pay for the gig, 3500. By now we’d graduated to the seven state area. The Banana’s last trip was even farther… to NYC to play a label showcase at CBGB’s, which incidentally was not the last time we were passed on by a label.

Van#3-No Name, but a badass shiny new 15 passenger van pulling a very solid trailer full of gear. No stories about this one. Not even the bullet in the side story (crazy girls). It’s time to address the future.

The Future.
That’s where we are now and holy hell things look so much easier. We could've graduated vans way quicker if I could’ve sent blasts to our fans tweeting or snapping away. We could've saved tons of gas skipping that one show we just had to play in Brownsville, TX for 15 people (btw that’s pretty much as far south as you can go). Would’ve had a contest where fans put up a youtube video of their favorite Nixons song and pick the one from south Texas. And services like TuneCore: this is basically an online handbook for people trying to do exactly what we were trying to do. I didn’t even know what publishing was. On sites like this you can learn every intricate detail on this and almost any other music business related topic. It’s like the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for bands (don’t panic).

Listen, did I enjoy spray painting our band name on dumpsters all over the Oklahoma City metro area banking on people thinking we suddenly had such rabid fans we were worthy of a little petty vandalism? Okay, I actually did enjoy that and would do that one all over again.

I’m a songwriter now and fought every sibling-in-law I had telling me how great American Idol was. See, I did it the real way. Came up the right way. Until I got a cut on an Idol’s album, then I liked it better. Oh okay, not so bad. It was a platform. A way in. Today there are so many more of them. In my heart, I’m proud of the way we did it. I learned a lot and know a lot things to warn my sons about. We played around 300 days a year for nearly a decade and hell yeah could’ve used an assist from TuneCore to shave off a hundred miles or so.

Van and Trailer Vs. The Internet? We’ll call it a draw.

Studio Automatic: Genesis Of A Song

I write songs. Some weeks I write one song each day. I woke up one morning and (after drinking a large cup of coffee) thought to myself: Why not give every songwriter the accessibility that I have to create great-sounding music? I realized I could create a digital platform offering the same quality and service that I provide every day for my in-studio clients to every aspiring songwriter out there. By the time I finished my second cup of coffee, Studio Automatic was born.

The first question you may have for me is: How do you know so many great studio musicians? I’m so glad you asked. Since signing my first record deal to MCA Records in 1995, I have built relationships with some of the most accomplished musicians, engineers, and mixers on the planet. These professionals make up the team at Studio Automatic. They’ve played on albums for GRAMMY award-winning artists and have worked on projects for major labels, including Warner Brothers, Universal, Atlantic, Capitol, Big Machine and many more.

The next question a lot of clients have for me is: What happens to my song after I upload it to StudioAutomatic.com? Excellent question, indeed! The process will vary client-to-client depending on package choices, but the Studio Automatic team begins and ends with our project coordinators. These are highly trained engineers/producers who can play an instrument (or multiple instruments) proficiently. One of these project coordinators will send a client’s scratch audio to a Studio Automatic drummer who will track the drums (possibly in his or her pajamas) and send the wav files back. From there, the project coordinator will add guitars and bass before sending the track to one of our demo singers. He or she will cut vocals and return her work to the project coordinator. The coordinator then cleans the track up before sending to one of Studio Automatic’s mixers. Mixers do just what it sounds like they do: They mix all the instruments and vocals together. They play with volumes, create fades, make sure the vocals are finely tuned, and so on. Once they’ve mixed the track to perfection, they send the song over to the coordinator once more, who then uploads the finished product to the client’s account on Studio Automatic.

By the time a client receives their finished product, their track could have passed through 4 or more accomplished studio musicians because, well, it takes a village, folks!

Now that you’ve heard my story, I want to hear yours! I’d like to hear your questions about recording and songwriting. Leave a comment on this post with the things that are tripping you up in the studio and I’ll see what I can do to help!

Bluebird Rocks!

I was lucky enough to perform on some iconic stages at some amazing venues over my time as an artist. My band opened for Kiss at Madison Square Garden and in a subsequent video released by the make-up wearing hall of famers, there is a panning shot of the crowd that clearly shows my mom and dad (who flew out for the show), arms raised, in Nixons t-shirts, rocking right along with the Kiss Army. We got to play Red Rocks, the picturesque amphitheater that is cut right out of the Rocky Mountains just outside of Denver. In fact, we played there enough times (5) to be presented with a little trophy made out of a sliver of the actual red rock that surrounds the outdoor venue. Played Cain’s Ballroom, which for an Okie is something any band coming up in the Sooner State aspires to do. I can also say we played the room before the renovations that included A.C. Once upon an August night somewhere in the mid 90’s, we happily sweat our way through a rock show and mosh pit somewhere in the low 100’s.

As a songwriter, an ultimate honor is to play another iconic room, the Bluebird Cafe. I had heard of the place even before moving to Nashville. I think I was first made aware from the 1993 River Phoenix film The Thing Called Love. Like most people my age, anything Phoenix was associated with was just…cool. I don’t think I understood what it was really all about, but started hearing stories beginning with one about an iconic Garth Brooks song. As the story goes, Garth was in attendance in the tiny little cafe that sits unassumingly between a dry cleaners and some random retail shop, when Tony Arata performed “The Dance.” Brooks apparently told the writer he would someday cut the song when he got a record deal. The rest is history. 

I’ve now played there a few times, most recently to a packed house alongside three other writers including J.T. Harding who played some of his hits. J.T. has a singing style all his own and it was so amazingly cool to hear him bust out his version of “Smile” by Uncle Kracker while the 90 plus in attendance sang along. The first time I played there was with Craig Wiseman. There is something equally inspiring and daunting about following his version of “Live Like You Were Dying” with one of my own songs.

When we were putting together and speaking to people about the Oklahoma Songwriters Festival, we used the Bluebird Cafe as a touchstone. As in, the songwriter showcase will be set up as if we are bringing the Bluebird to Oklahoma for an evening. In Nashville, in large part because of the TV show with the same name, people line up and clamor to get into the writer showcase room. In OKC, we’ve been spreading the word and hope people line up to come see myself, Marcus Hummon (“Bless the Broken Road”), Jim Beavers (“Watching Airplanes”), Marti Frederickson (“Undo it”) and J.D. McPherson sing the songs we’ve written for ourselves and others. 

The Bluebird Cafe has no lighting trusses or catwalks like an arena in Manhattan, no sweeping views of mountains in Colorado. But the history and the energy in this little room is like nothing else I’ve ever felt. If you are in the audience and you chit chat, you’ll get shushed. It’s quiet, yes. But truth is the Bluebird rocks as hard as any wall of Marshall cabs ever will.

Don't Be an Asshole

Around the time my band the Nixons signed our first record deal, someone gave me some good advice: be cool to the people you meet going up, cause you’ll see ‘em again on your way down. From my current vantage point it’s downright uncanny how prophetic that statement was. 

 We were starting to gain some momentum outside our home region of the midwest. We finally got to that point where we could select our own opening band (seems small but at the time, one of those things that felt huge). We chose a funny little band that was making some noise in Texas called Bowling For Soup. They were silly, fun, funny, kind and great to have out. We threw ‘em bones every time we could. Lead singer, Jaret, still tells the story about politely knocking on the bus door somewhere in Carolina (or maybe Georgia) when despite being sick and wrapped in a blanket, I waved ‘em in, sat and chatted for a good long while. We offered ‘em beer, they drank it. Pretty sure they drank all of it. Several years later as I was making the transition from artist to writer/producer I got a call from the now major label BFS singer, Jaret. He asked for some advice about their producer and threw out the offer for me to come write for their upcoming album. I did. Got a few cuts, one of which was their third single. It didn’t burn up the charts but here’s what it did do: enter the Hot 100 at number 39 for one week. The week Sony Publishing offered me a writers pub deal (I’d had artist pub deals but was adamant that I needed one that could help me develop writing with other writers and artists). All told I have had over a dozen cuts with BFS over the years and even co-produced tracks on one album. Don’t know for sure but betting if I’d passed on the bus-hang-even-with-a-fever, things might have gone differently (sure the beer helped too).

 Another person I was “just nice enough to/to make a little mark” was Chris Daughtry. I was now in year two or three of that Sony deal and was writing like crazy, with every band, singer, artist I could. Getting a few little things on albums here and there when I had a chance meeting with Pete Ganbarg. At the time Pete was looking for songs for the recently Idol booted Chris Daughtry for his upcoming album. I had just released a solo album, sort of a “last gasp” at being an artist. Pete had zero interest in me as an artist but really liked one of the tunes for Chris. He played it for him and his producer. They cut it. At the release party for that album, which went on to sell over 6 million copies, Chris bee-lined to me after his performance and told me a story. Somewhere in Virginia (or Maryland) he had waited in line for a Nixons autograph and when the then teen got to me said “I’m a singer and thinking of getting a vocal coach.” He asked my advice, which was something to the effect of go for it just don’t let the coach change who you are as a singer. I have no recollection of this (sorry Chris) but do wonder if that fueled the decision to cut my song. That song which introduced me to Pete, who later became my manager. The producer, who I’ve gotten cuts on probably 15 projects he’s done. It also introduced me to the management company who later asked me if I’d be interested in writing with their rising country star, Carrie Underwood. I said yes.

 I could go on and on. There’s the former GM at my old record label who hired me recently to produce an artist he was managing. The booking agent for my college band who reached out when someone was looking for a collaborator. The former DJ at a station in Texas who is now an exec at Apple who has helped facilitate some things with Apple Music. 

Look, I’m no saint. In fact, I know some people who might have a different story to tell. But I tried my best to follow that advice I was given cause the truth is, most people do come back down. Then, if you’re lucky, back up. Then, well you know. Now, go be nice.

The people you meet along the way are the most important people in the end. 

The Stapleton Effect

Let’s get the gratuitous Stapleton worship out of the way. I totally agree with you, he’s a different kind of great. One that you just want to hear, want to route for and then ultimately, tell your friends “I told you so” when he wins, cause you knew how badass he was a long time ago.

I wrote with him a while back and truly did get to hear, up close, how amazing he is. Just in the room with an acoustic guitar singing “blah, blah” makeshift, mumbly lyrics…it was killer. Magic.

But I’m not the rabid fan. I followed from afar. I got the latest album and dig it a lot and completely see why it’s created a little spark-turned-inferno. But I’m not that hard-core guy. Never saw the Steel Drivers (sacrilege in some parts of Tennessee). Don’t have his “old stuff”.

 FUN FACT: You know who is one of those “hard-cores”? Adele (the other “current coolest person in music”).  She covered a Steel Drivers/Stapleton penned song for the Euro release of her 21 album. Cool, huh?

 So, he is on top of the music world right now.  Dude has a night like the one he had a few nights ago. Where the stars line up. Performance with Justin Timberlake (that tore faces off from gritty to glitzy) followed up by a handful, no armful of awards. 

 Now what?

 Country music is fine. Okay more like on fire. So, it doesn't need a savior. But, what will that night and Chris’ success do to the genre?

 Probably, not much. There’s still gonna be the kind of stuff on the radio that some people write off as “not credible”. Still gonna be the staples: those artists who release albums and just get played. A newcomer will blow up that we’d never heard about 3 months ago, etc, etc. They’ll be a duo or two, a band here or there.

 But what about that special talent that doesn’t fit into a box? Like Stapleton. Will labels take a chance? Will radio?

Hell, will radio take a chance on Chris Stapleton?

Here’s hoping they do. That a chance is given to that chick or dude or band that doesn’t fit immediately and easily into the world that a lot of folks call country music. What if it throws back a little or pushes the limits. What if his hairs too long or he’s a little rough around the edges? What if she sings about things that might be a little extreme? Maybe they’ll get the shot they might not have a few months ago.

 Here’s the deal. There might not be a seismic shift in country music. The Stapleton effect might not be anything other than…Chris Stapleton.

 Oh, alright. We’ll take it. (And plus: now we got new Adele).