Sessions Continued...

So yes, sessions! I’m often asked how you get a foot in the door:

When I’m in Nashville, I’m out pretty much every night of the week, catching friend’s shows, buying shots for beleaguered comrades, and generally seeing and being seen in all my disheveled glory. I tour for a living. Most people assume, not inaccurately, that I’m on the road, self-soothing at a Cracker Barrel somewhere, and therefore won’t be available for 10am at Blackbird. Decisions need to be made fast, so the call goes to someone who’s guaranteed to be in town.

I advise touring musicians, when they’re off the road and fully recovered by way of binge watching episodes of the Office, to let everyone in their network know they’re home and for how long. It’s easy to get all woe-is-me we when you land back in a world you’ve been apart from for a decent stretch, but that’s the thing - you’re not actively being avoided, it’s just you’ve been gone, and the freaking country ballad won’t record itself. Life goes on, and has been doing so quite happily during the entirely of your sojourn in the catering tent. 

Even if you’re back for a week, let everyone know you’re back for a week. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten replies saying “Sweet, good to know, can you be at Sound Emporium in an hour?” Ours is a competitive business that thrives in distracted neuroses - if you don’t let people know where you’re going to be, when you’re going to be there, and for how long, there’s no way the dots will connect themselves.