I arrived back in Nashville yesterday having been on the road playing solo acoustic sets with my good bud Ross Livermore. Ross is the first person I met in Nashville, and we became fast friends, bonding over New England sports and a shared love of American prog-metal legends Dream Theater. He also happens to be one of the best pure vocalists I’ve ever heard. Click on over to experience all things My Good Bud (I had the pleasure of writing his bio and playing guitar on his most recent record).
Ross is a force for good in the world. He cares about doing things right. He’s patient, meticulous and genuinely loves the craft of songwriting. This is a critical distinction. Playing in front of thousands of people is easy. Making bus call’s also really, really, embarrassingly easy. No one’s ever had to dig deep at catering. What’s difficult is waking up every morning, staring at a blank sheet of paper, quieting those pesky inner demons with a potent combo of nuclear-strong espresso and being fresh outta fucks, and just, well, beginning. Every single day, without fail, chipping away at the ol’ chunk of granite until in resembles a naked Italian dude. But, you know, musically. Wow. Sorry, Ross, and sorry Michelangelo.
Anyway, people in my line of work typically lose their hearts because they shy away from the kind of unglamorous work that exposes weaknesses and forces prolonged eye contact with the person in the mirror. Ross is the hardest working human being I know, and entirely unafraid.
This short run’s been inspiring - just the kick in the keister I needed. Ross's onto something special. Thanks for having me, my friend. Let's do it again.