Sneaky Bastards

I’m asked regularly how and why I write everyday. 

The “how” isn’t particularly impressive (I sit down and do it) and the “why,” initially at least, was an equal letdown (it seemed like a good idea at the time). Over the course of six-plus months, despite my aversion to self-improvement, some neat benefits have crept up on me, the sneaky bastards.  

I used to be awful at waking up in the morning - it’d take several hours just to convince myself to drag a toothbrush across my chompers, much less carpe that diem. I decided to write this newsletter early in the AM, hoping that getting the gears spinning first thing might shake up the ol’ brain box. 

Within a week, my morning lethargy was gone - decades of annoyance brought on by chirping birds and other unwelcome first-light whimsy straight up over, just like that (I snapped my fingers, for all you visual people). Now, by the time I’m ready to start my day, I’m sharp, focused, and ready for whatever a day looks like for someone who’s never had a real job.

I plan on writing this newsletter indefinitely, but if and when the time comes to hang up the proverbial sneakers, I’ll always write every morning. 

Free From Me

“Free From Me” is my favorite song I’ve written so far. Jeremy Hatcher went absolutely bonkers on the production, turning my emo campfire jam into a stadium-crushing behemoth. I love how it starts out all ethereal and meandering, with an extended Johnny Greenwood inspired guitar solo disintegrating into feedback that'd make Sonic Youth proud. Oh, the catharsis, my friends. An electric guitar played terrifyingly loud’s about the best thing there is.  

This song’s a few years old now, and it’s a little bittersweet looking back on where I was at the time - newly single, trying to make sense of my rapidly changing life as the Al Stone project grew. While I’m a different guy to the one who wrote the verses, the chorus still resonates - if we live unapologetically as ourselves, it’ll all make sense in time.  

Take a listen, if you like. Lyrics below…

every time I close my eyes

I’m haunted by the starlight in a different sky

the memories of that moment in Mobile

I’ll escape my broken world

I’ll learn to love this southern girl

I’ve long outgrown my gloomy home 

in the state of Evergreen

everyone of us can change, change our ways

if we learn to live life out loud

I know I will never be free from me

so I’ll have to seek shelter from the storm

now I’m paralyzed by fright

I felt it in a Catskill’s night

now I’m blind out here in Brooklyn

but the sun’s not in my eyes

in the Rockies, now, I chase

a girl with whom I can’t keep pace

another angel hates me now

it’s one more smile I’ll never see again

everyone of us can change, change our ways

if we learn to live life out loud

I know I will never be free from me

so I’ll have to seek shelter from the storm

Shouldn't I be "successful" by now?

Doubting everything? Feeling like you're shouting into the void? And shouldn't I be, you know, "successful" by now, or, Jesus Christ, at least not scraping together lose change to pay bills? We've all been there, most of all me.  

On account of the yuppie, self-helpy undercurrent, I've never shared an inspirational quote in this newsletter, and I shudder somewhat that I'm doing it now - it softens the douchiness, I suppose, that it comes from Bill Burr, and I can envision him calling the recipient a rat bastard. 

"Realize that sleeping on a futon when you're 30 isn't the worst thing. You know what's worse? Sleeping in a king sized bed next to a wife you're not really in love with but for some reason you married, and you've got a couple kids, and you've got a job you hate. You'll be laying there fantasizing about sleeping on a futon. There's no risk when you go after a dream. There's a tremendous amount of risk playing it safe."

Personal Turning Points

During our performance at the Special Olympics opening ceremony, I experienced a song take flight. Check it out here.  

“Warriors” came from a Jamie Lidell and Allen songwriting session in the days leading up to our time at Sound Emporium. We tackled the track during our last couple days in the studio, with ear fatigue setting in and the collective attention span wavering. Tyler and I threw the bridge riff together, we all contributed some ear candy, but did we nail it? Honestly, I wasn't sure, and before I knew it I was back in full-on Clark Kent mode, mowing my lawn and recycling junk mail.

When “Warriors” was announced as the next single, I listened back with fresh ears. I thought it was pretty good, but obviously felt a deeper connection with the tunes we’d written as a band. Stylistically, it’s a departure from our wheelhouse, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but “Freedom,” the Capitol Records backed single off Radius, had fallen short of nebulous expectations and left Al in particular pretty dejected. It was smart releasing “Brown Eyed Lover” first, both to satisfy die-hard fans and, hopefully, ease the transition into a more pop sensibility. 

Success on radio, Spotify playlists, potential Marshmello remixes? All good stuff, but fleeting and arbitrary to the point of disillusionment. On stage at Husky Stadium, watching the Special Olympians laughing and dancing along with Al, I felt profound gratitude - not only was this moment a personal turning point in so many ways, but I and the rest of the fellas understood why “Warriors” belongs in the world. 

Episode 9

Episode 9 of Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens is live!

Justin Kelley is a singer/songwriter based in Nashville who performs under the name Hownd. He’s an insightful, gentle soul, and profoundly talented - it was a pleasure chatting about our experiences at Berklee, overcoming creative droughts, and how important Metallica was during our formative years (a true litmus test of character). 

iTunes!

Video!

The Best Amp Settings Ever

I'm writing this from the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. Sigh. But it's been an exciting several days in the Allen Stone universe, the most fun we've had on stage as a band, and I'm eager to share more tomorrow when I'm not so sleep deprived. For now, as the resignation sets in that I'm about to pay a thousand dollars for a profoundly dismal approximation of a sandwich, I'll share this picture of my amp from a few tours back. 

I received all manner of derision when I originally posted this, both for what I thought were the obvious mock setting preferences (aren't you afraid you're gonna blow your speakers?!) and how the amp's actually dialed (bro, lemme know if you need a lesson on good tone). I beg your forgiveness, Online Guitar Community. Thankfully, for our upcoming marathon tour, I'll be in the hands of Steve "Bluto" Libby, tech to the stars (and also me), who will have my amp singing like Pavarotti. 

Six Months!

Today’s the six month anniversary of The Mind of a Trevor daily email newsletter! It’s not popular enough yet to warrant a cease and desist from The Mind of a Chef, but we’re getting there. 

I love writing and have wanted to get a blog up and running for years. In typical me fashion, initial attempts were overly ambitious and destined to end up exactly where they did - in a smoldering heap of unactualized potential, along with my 3-point shot and break dancing ability.

The only thing I hadn’t tried actually made sense, and therefore was unappealing - short, light-hearted and, on good days, readable posts, and do it every day. If it’s longer than one thumb scroll, chuck it. No targeted demographics, no “point” to speak of other than personal accountability.

I’ve written approximately 72,000 words so far, well on my way to a long-ish novel’s worth of readable, if not Pulitzer-worthy, sentences. The first six months have been foolhardy, not particularly sexy, with minimal viral potential…aka, very me. I'm proud of that.

And I can officially say I'm a writer! Thank you all for reading. It’s flattering and humbling, your following along with my daily musings. I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

Cyborgish Efficiency

I’m writing this in between dress rehearsals for the Special Olympics USA Games Opening Ceremony - we’re playing the new Al Stone Band song “Warriors” live on ABC tomorrow afternoon. Everything’s going, well, great. Anti-climactic I know, but the latest chapter of the Allen Stone saga seems to be defined by people being really good at stuff. Our tour manager Ryan “Bear” Drozd, infinitely capable as he is, has advanced the show more thoroughly than ESPN’s own show runner. Tim Burke, our new production manager, never lets his pulse rate rise above 70 while performing like a thousand tasks at once with cyborgish efficiency. The entire event staff's courteous and inexorably professional - even the jaded union guys aren't outspokenly wishing I go fornicate myself. And we’re playing Husky Stadium in Seattle, a bucket list venue. Not a shabby weekend.

When a large event’s run well, there isn’t much to do other than stay out of people’s way, which is harder than you might think. No matter where I post up to absent-mindedly scroll through Instagram, someone with a way more important job and much longer day would rather I be literally anywhere else than obstructing their path to craft services. So, here I am, huddled in our green room, drinking coffee and eating fruit snacks, aka The Dream.  

In about 20 mins, we’ll run through the entire opening ceremony for the first time. The band sounds great. Tim Burke’s a cyborg. Just your average June 30th.

The New Allen Stone Single...

...is out today! Warriors is available on all platforms, so stream, damn you, stream!

Warriors was cooked up by Al and producer Jamie Lidell at Jamie's home studio in Nashville. I say "home studio" like the man's using an iRig and Garageband - he's got more kooky, impenetrable tech than the Starship Enterprise. Anyway, Jamie presented the demo to the band at Sound Emporium, tasking Tyler and me to "fix the shit riff in the bridge," which we did (ie mostly Tyler). A couple piano overdubs and percussion things later and we pretty much had the track - Jamie did such a great job with the demo that we kept the rhythm guitars, lead vocals and a bunch of synth parts from the original session.

Brown Eyed Lover was co-written by the band and recorded live, whereas Warriors was a more traditional session musician experience - listen, tweak, knock out overdubs, then decimate GI tracts with hot chicken. It's a rare chemistry that makes both approaches possible, and I'm proud of what we continue building together as a band.  

Jenny

A year ago to the day, I released a single called "Jenny." Nothing like a pop song loosely inspired by Bonnie and Clyde, am I right?

As with the Free From Me EP, it was enough just putting this song out in the world. I can't tell you how much happier and more creative this mindset's made me - actively avoid masterplans, release music, live life and revisit. It'll all make sense when it's meant to. 

My full band tunes, quietly released over the past couple years, have organically found a small, dedicated audience, which is pretty neat. Here's a link if you want to check out the full song, or you can find it/them wherever you stream your music. Lyrics below...

JENNY

Some days, I would rather sleep through every silhouette of morning
soldiers, marching in my dreams, all obeying different drums
Fragile, no one really knows me, you said that I could share my story
come on, baby, show me

Jenny, come on, ride with me
it’s only going to take a moment’s time
Jenny, come on, ride with me
it’s only going to take a moment
let’s take it, Jenny
come on

watch this, I can only show you once, and then we’re going to leave here
playing sad inside a satire makes legends out of trolls
somewhere, you and I were chosen, take my hand today and always
come on, baby, tell me

Jenny, come on, ride with me
it’s only going to take a moment’s time
Jenny, come on, ride with me
it’s only going to take a moment
let’s take it, Jenny
come on

I’ve found where I belong

Episode 8

Episode 8 of Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens is live!

This week, I chat with Phöenix Lazare, a Nashville based singer/songwriter from the enlightened nation of Canada. She's a Rush fan (!), which means I finally, FINALLY get to dual air drum along with "YYZ." Seriously. Check out the last couple minutes of the video. 

We spend most of this episode discussing our respective experiences at Berklee College of Music. Art and academia have a famously...ummm...conflicted relationship, and it was entertainingly therapeutic comparing notes. Hope you enjoy!    

A Hard-Earned State of Nirvana

I’m experiencing a much needed rewiring of the brain. As a “smart” guy, thinking a bunch of moves ahead in the chess game is satisfying mental athleticism. Hey, look, I’ve figured it out! Dedicated newsletter readers know I’ve never had much success “figuring it out.” None, in fact. I mean, I’m good at elegantly connecting dots provided they follow a script unique to my bizarro monologue. Reality, as they say, is overrated. 

Historically, I’ve been ambitious to a counterproductive degree: grand plans, accompanied by zero capacity to actualize said grandiosity, resulting in crippling self-doubt. I’m releasing new music every week - I don’t know why, have zero “if this, then that” road map. Same with the podcast. I want to be listened to by as many people as possible - I’ve asked around, and no one’s told me what I’m doing makes sense with popularity as an end game. So, what am I doing, exactly? 

I can say with confidence I don't have the faintest clue...and it's a glorious, hard-earned state of nirvana. I'm finally, FINALLY not overthinking myself into paralysis! The universe may be opaque and unforgiving, but I trust it's unfolding as it should.    

Alanis Morissette

It’s taken me about thirty minutes to write this sentence - Edinson Cavani’s just put Uruguay 3-0 up on Russia, and it's impossible being a passive spectator while the world’s game’s showcased at the highest level.

Our set at Arroyo Seco was fun! 45 mins, play the hits (hit, in our case), and get the hell off the stage so the Revolution can melt faces. Evidently we gave the producer from Duck Dynasty artist passes. Oh, Los Angeles. 

Festivals are great, especially when you play earlier in the day, because you’re able to catch acts not necessarily on your radar. Alanis Morissette was bananas. So good. Hit after hit after hit and jesus christ, that’s her song too?! Zero production, blessedly free of gimmicks, just a stellar band, her still-pitch-perfect, iconic voice, and SONGS.

Alanis’s tunes were more than just hits. Lots of songs top some arbitrary chart and quickly fade - hers entered the cultural lexicon. On any Greatest Songs of the 90’s list, “You Outta Know” is in the top 10, and her set at Arroyo Seco made me appreciate how vital writing great songs really is. As artists, we're expected to cover so many bases, and between myriad analytics, fulfilling Patreon requests and managing our Shopify accounts, actually writing a great song's often relegated to the back burner - it's the last thing most label/management types seem to give a shit about. But I can tell you from first hand experience, when the songs are there, everything's a synch. When they're not, that's when predatory suit types start circling and hearts run for the hills. Better to focus on making great art and trust that the universe is pretty good at opening doors when it's time.  

I’m grateful for the legendary artists who’ve set the bar so high.  

Rock and, time permitting, Roll

I’m writing this from the Best Western “Plus” in Pasadena, CA, with just enough time to jot down a few sentences before lobby call and an early onsite arrival at Arroyo Seco. We’re first on the main stage, Los Angelenos, 1-1:45pm, so come say hi, which unfortunately means paying about $200 on Stubhub. 

This morning, I’m just grateful for my little slice of the pie. The coffee at the Best Western “Plus” is uniquely dismal, but I’m here drinking it goddammit and that makes me happy. The fellas and I are fighting the good fight, after seven years and every excuse imaginable not to do so. I'm proud of that.  

Many friends in bands I love are out playing festivals this weekend - let’s appreciate that we sing into microphones for a living - that's actually a thing that happens, and we get to do it. It can always be better, sure, but that’s a well-trodden trail of dismal return and, just for today, maybe let's abandon that tedious mindset. We’ve got it good. We really do. Through our humble means - our songs and ever-fledgling dreams - let’s kick today squarely in the happy sacks. 

Rock and, time permitting, Roll, my friends.  

Carlos Vela's Number 11

One of these days, flying BNA-LAX direct will be an option due to this “fame and fortune” I’ve heard so much about, but until then it’s a familiar refrain: I’m writing this from the Dallas/Ft Worth International Airport.

Mexico’s playing South Korea in the World Cup, and the International Terminal’s buzzing - football fans from all over the world, overwhelmingly in support of Mexico, huddle around every available glowing surface, gasping, laughing and exchanging high-fives, while exasperated gate agents beg everyone to please, pretty please, get on the (expletive deleted) plane, there’s already an airport-wide delay because people won’t get on the (expletive deleted) plane and there’ll be in-flight updates, they promise. 

I’m glued to the tube at Tingin’s “Irish” Pub and Restaurant, also cheering like a maniac for our neighbors to the south. A young couple from Mexico City slide into the booth next to mine - they painted their faces before going through security (as did half the terminal) and hey, would I like a Mexico jersey? It’s ok, they brought extras. I’m now clinking glasses with my new airport buddies, rocking Carlos Vela’s number 11. 

I realize that Ryan “Bear” Drozd will be annoyed if I don’t actually, you know, show up in Los Angeles, so I reluctantly head to my gate just in time for “final call for passenger Larkin…” I give the jersey to a passing father and son - I feel like that’s its purpose, bringing joy to the travel weary. Maybe it’ll make the rounds at DFW and lift spirits for days to come. 

Portraits

Behold, the greatest representation ever of the Al Stone band's tour manager/FOH engineer, Ryan "Bear" Drozd.

There's a story behind this portrait, which I don't know. What I do know is it's the current lock screen on my phone, so that whenever I'm feeling mistrustful of this cruel, arbitrary world, Ryan "Bear" Drozd's piercing gaze, betraying his near-omniscience, hammers home an elegant, inexorable truth: just as I'll never jump as high as Michael Jordan, I'll never be as cool as Ryan "Bear" Drozd. Know your place, the universe tells me, which is laying metaphorical rose petals at the Great Man's feet.

He's also beet red while reading this, which is the whole point. See you tomorrow, Bear! 

If There's Darkness

Some have pointed out it’s been a couple weeks since the last one take video - scheduling’s conspired against me lately but I’ll be back on the usual routine next week. In the meantime, I posted another clip on Instagram from the EP I released a little while back, Free From Me. Tara Lawson, a brilliant visual artist and dear friend, sketched this neat image while listening to “If There’s Darkness,” the first track off said EP - I really like it and figured I’d share.

I love playing guitar in the Al Stone band. I love writing this every day. I love talking with interesting people. But writing songs and sharing them is my favorite, and I'm excited to continue doing so at an obnoxious and, arguably, inadvisable rate. 

Walla Walla Guitar Company

I recently took possession of this beauty, courtesy of the Walla Walla Guitar Company.

That's right: there're ninja level luthiers in my home town of Walla Walla, WA.

When we moved to town in the mid 90's, half of downtown was boarded up. Tumbleweeds would literally, well, tumble down Main Street. Now? There's modern art downtown. Tumbling requires slaloming around tourists from Seattle and Portland, bound for tasting rooms and artisanal cheese shops. There's even a hipster cupcake shop and (gasp) a SUSHI JOINT. 

I feel privileged to have grown up in Walla Walla. It will always be the small farming town I love - that it's increasingly a haven for artists and endearing weirdos makes perfect sense, as anyone from there can attest. The influx of money from the wine business and accompanying tourism's a mixed bag, but an obvious upside's the Wa-Duece becoming a viable place for dreamers to set up shop. 

Thanks Ken, Terry, and Nate. You guys are fighting the good fight. I can't wait to put this gorgeous instrument through the paces.

Episode 7

Episode 7 of Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens is live!

My guest this week's Austin James, a Nashville based singer/songwriter who performs under the name The Slow Drag. He makes his living live streaming, a world I know next to nothing about - it's inspiring how many avenues there are for musicians with an entrepreneurial bent to get their art out there. Austin's an insightful, funny guy, and effortlessly cool in the seated position - it was a pleasure chatting with him.  

This Foolhardy Path

A career in music makes you appreciative of how goddamn lucky you are to be doing things like in the picture below. You also appreciate impermanence - it is, in fact, miraculous, playing G-C-D for a living, and it won't last forever. Nothing does. This band was never supposed to happen. On paper, it doesn't make a lick of sense. Obstacles we've overcome, and there've been many, have derailed groups far more talented. Others far less so have catapulted to stardom, much to the flattering dismay of diehard fans.

I cherish this business's sphinx-like enigma - I really wouldn't have it any other way. That I'm this well suited to life in a glorified lunatic asylum is a badge of honor I wear proudly, even if it mostly terrifies potential romantic partners. I'm grateful for every kooky, knuckle-headed, baffling decision that's led me down this foolhardy path. I'd have made a shitty actuary, anyway.