Sleepy Skrillex

Skrillex is taking a nap in a hammock.  I mean, why not?  His posse's loitering, confused, face drugs kicking in- how, after all, can one heap adulation upon and bask in the glory of said hipster DJ while he's contentedly sawing wood?  It’s 2012, our first swing through Hang Out Fest in Gulf Shores, AL.  My life has changed completely almost over night. 

A few months prior, I’d been teaching guitar lessons and bouncing around from band to band.  It was suggested to me, very lovingly, that I’d make a great therapist- perhaps I should consider going back to school?  Face facts, Trevor- if it was going to happen, it would've happened by now.  You’re never making it.  And that’s ok, we love you.  But, please, let it go.  This was pre-Frozen, mind you, so little empowerment's attached to that statement.  Rather, resignation.  

Defeat.  

It’s strange, the whole thing.  It's registering, in the sweltering Alabama heat a half decade ago, that I’m a full-time touring musician, playing in this quirky band, everything’s shiny and new and I’m so excited I can hardly sleep.  We’re still in a van at this point and stage hands chuckle as we beep beep beep in triumphant reverse, wedging ourselves between the Port-a-Potties and Switchfoot's tour bus. 

I’m thinking this is gloriously unexpected, and thank you whatever higher power's casting its omniscient gaze in my direction 'cause I need this.  Finally, after all the years and opportunities evaporated, I'm, well, here.  Just here.

2012 is a year of so many firsts- first open bar at a big music festival, first celebrity sighting where I have the same VIP access.  First time playing the Gorge, first time on national television, first time being mistaken for John Mayer.  There're other firsts, too.  First time landing in Seattle, depressed and jet lagged, heading to an apartment where half the stuff’s in boxes.  First time packing up my half, renting a storage unit.  First time knowing there’s a number I can’t call anymore.

That was five years ago, almost to the day.  A lot has changed, thankfully.

It's still strange, the whole thing.  I hope that never changes.  

'Cause You've Gotta Start Somewhere

Someday, my heavily photoshopped countenance with dominate media outlets worldwide.  But not this day.  

This day, I’m a little known guitar player, songwriter and singer- a song and dance man who, objectively, can't dance for shit.  That said, I've been dealt a reasonably decent hand over here.  My full time band pays me a livable wage.  I’ve traveled the world, picking and grinning, several times over.  I have elite status on several major airlines, the kind of fancy that fattens you up on complimentary dark chocolates but only occasionally gets you upgraded.  My dumb face has even been on national TV a few times.  And yet, even to diehard Allen Stone fans, I’m largely an abstraction.  Why have I been so reluctant to share more of myself and art with the handful of folks who might be interested?  

Judgment?  Not really- I want people to hear my music and saying more dumb crap publicly would do me good.  Failure?  Sure.  I mean, all creative people fall in love with an idealized version of themselves, hence the photoshop and egregious auto-tuning of carefully sculpted pseudo vulnerability.  I'm as guilty as anyone.  

I think it’s this- when you spend most of your time strumming along in the stage left shadows, it’s easy thinking this muted version of yourself is what the machine requires rather than the full, raw flavor.  As I sit her, tippity-tapping away outside the Frothy Monkey on a gorgeous Nashville evening, I'm feeling more like an obliterated, boiled-to-shit bowl of green beans, brown and unappetizing, rather than the crisp, in-season offering I know I am.  Yes, I've taken this metaphor too far, I know, and I haven't written in a while so I'm working out the muscle here.  It's fun!  I can still string words together, it turns out.   

I’m not a genius, thank god.  I can’t imagine what that must be like- it’s hard enough being smart enough to know how little’s really up to you.  But I really enjoy, you know, doing stuff.  So, here’s to sharing- music, tons of new music, blogs, podcasts, videos, photos and so much more.  I dig bumbling along in real time, and it's long overdue. 

So, join me!  It’ll likely be pretty good, I think, and failing upward is a noble pursuit.  2017, I’m coming for ya!