Delta Rae Revival

Every Wednesday from tonight until the end of the year, Delta Rae will be performing at the Basement in Nashville. From what little I know about the show (they've been annoyingly hush-hush), it’s going to be ambitious, equal parts performance art and celebration of their deep catalogue. I'm heading to the venue in a few mins and can't wait to find out.  

I’m proud of my friends. The music business is one where bandwidth gets exhausted quickly. Expectations from managers, labels, publicists, booking agents and, of course, fans, can compound to an overwhelming degree, and it takes unique conviction to speak up over the din and say look, here’s the vision, this is what we want and here’s how we’re going to do it. 

Delta Rae’s killing the game. They have the industry machine behind them, and therefore every excuse to coast and scapegoat, which is a beguiling path in such a bizarro world. And they don’t. They’re telling the big shots where to aim, not a stance always encouraged by the powers that be. Kudos to my pals for being visionary badasses, and for takin' no shit.

Check out their website. Watch their latest music video, stream their tunes, and of course come to a Delta Rae Revival show. The Rick and Morty closing credit says it best, and goddammit who doesn't like a bow tie? 

Everybody Is A Genius

This year's been about embracing who I am and telling my story, imperfectly and without pretense. On balance, it's been a good ride, but there've been more than a few days like today, where I'm feeling on shaky ground. Here's a classic quote attributed to Einstein, one I reference often when I'm feeling dumfounding and inexplicable, if only to myself. 

The Ballad of Big Country, Continued

My neighbor Big Country is celebrating Labor Day exactly how you’d expect - sloshing moonshine onto the driveway, slurred, non-sensical ramblings punctuated by aggressive flatulence. He’s throwing scraps of bacon to his dog, Little Country, and complaining about my other neighbor, Don. “Sumbitch won’ say a goddman word t’me,” says Big Country, “he’s lower’n a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.”

Big Country stands like a teapot against our shared fence. “I’ve been thinkin,” he says.

"Go on," I say, bracing for impact. 

“Well, I’ve heard people ask ‘are we human cause we look at the stars, or do we look at the stars cause we’re human?’ Shit, that’s stupid. Do the stars look back? That’s the question.”

With that, he hawks a fat gob of god knows what in the general direction of his weathered Tennessee Titans cup and waddles away, braying atonally at Little Country, who knows to follow.

I’m often left gobsmacked by Big Country. He’s most likely absorbed in bizarro internet porn, but I’d like to think he stares upward, from time to time, into the dark sky and watches the infinite dance of the stars. Either way, he got me thinking, as he usually does. 

I imagine if the stars did look back, suspended for so long above the world, watching the scrambling and the joy and the pain of the people below them, they’d smile gently, finding it funny every time another little human considered themselves the center of their world.

Double Middle Digits

I’m luxuriating into my final couple weeks here in Nashville, ahead of the game planning-wise for the tour, excited to meet head on this undefined but inevitably exciting next chapter. 

I’ve been getting a fair amount of email regarding this “next chapter” business, so let me clarify - I’m still very much part of the Allen Stone team and have every intention of sharing the stage with my brothers-in-arms for the foreseeable future. But these other sides of me - songwriting, explorations through conversation, and prose writing - I’ve largely kept to myself until recently. And I’ll be sharing songs again in earnest this Fall, the podcast hits the road with the band, and the MoaT’s not stopping anytime soon.

Not too long ago, I would’ve fought back against calmness. I’m missing something, clearly, and shouldn’t I be working harder, better, smarter? I realize now that, yes, I am, and I suppose I could be, sure. 2018’s been about shifting focus away from global domination and towards the almost imperceptible clues from the universe that I’m not fucking it all up. They're there, it turns out, and have been for quite some time.

Emboldened to share, and share relentlessly, I couldn’t tell you what’s around the next bend. I can’t wait to find out. 

Make a Friend Smile

Today's been bizarre and stressful, so I sent a friend a picture of some monkeys.

I took it in Bali three years ago at the Ubud Monkey Forest. Hardly Nat Geo worthy, but it makes me happy. And I knew the recipient would get a kick out of it, and making someone else's day's a sure-fire way to ensure your day's pretty great, too.

Many readers of this newsletter are in the music business, which is to say certifiable - if lovable - maniacs, inclined towards hyperbolic, existential dread. I stand proudly among you. And I know when I'm feeling lost, which is often, I don't need "answers." Because I'm not lost, not really. Delicate, overstimulated, a little lonely? Sure. But I remain steadfast in believing my art's worth it. I bet you'd say the same for yourself. 

So, it's not really about the Tony Robbins bullshit - I'm happy leaving that to some douchebag who thinks he can still dunk. I'm all about making a friend smile.

Emerald City

I’m missing Seattle today. It hits me every once in a while, when there've been one too many rainy days in a row, or when I know I’m going on tour for a looooooong time. 

In Seattle, I had a predictable schedule (by musician's standards) and nice apartment, shared with a crazy cat and a woman who loved me - the closest thing to a standard, adult human being existence I’ve experienced. Sure, it wasn’t headlining arenas, but it was a good life. I was happy. 

When the Allen Stone project took off, it caught us all by surprise. I was completely absorbed in the music, the travel, the new friends and connections, and there wasn’t any room, I thought, for a nice apartment, shared with a crazy cat and a woman who loved me. It was all finally HAPPENING. I let my safe and happy life in Seattle drift away.

Whenever I’m back in the Emerald City, I like to rent a car and visit all the places I spent time. I find I drive more slowly by the places where I had my heart broken, or broke someone else’s heart. There’s melancholy, sure, but, increasingly, closure. 

I’m proud that I’m as open to love in my life as I’ve ever been, and unafraid to share my art. Seattle’s where I put the pieces together, and it’ll always feel like home. 

Episode 17 - Casey Wasner

Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens #17 is live!

Casey Wasner's my favorite kinda dude - understated, quick to laugh, and a connoisseur of fun and nerdy stuff. Oh, and he just won a freaking GRAMMY. Along with playing drums in Keb Mo's band for ten years and, when he feels like it, guitar with Robin Ford (the quintessential guitar player's guitar player), it's safe to say Casey's a first degree ninja badass.

We met up at the Purple House, his studio in Leiper's Fork TN, drank beer, and bullshitted in the way road-weary young schmucks do. I was tempted to steal his Grammy watch, but didn't. 

iTunes!

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Marmite

My aunt from South Africa, indeed where all my aunts are from, stopped through Nashville on business a couple days ago and gifted me this shirt. If you’re from the UK, South Africa, Australia, Canada, or the other 50 or so former territories of the British Empire, you appreciate how magnificent this shirt is. If you’re not, please, for my amusement, give a big ol’ spoonful to somebody you don’t like very much and tell them it’s Nutella. 

My family’s strewn about all over the world, mostly in places where spiders can kill you, and it amazes me how well we stay in touch. Kudos to my parents and their siblings for making it a priority, and instilling in the next generation a deep sense of grounding and presence in family. I’m grateful the Allen Stone Band’s global reach allows me to see variously accented Larkins, Brophys and Brunés at least once a year.

When things get crazy, wherever I am in the world, chances are there’s family near by, which means a home cooked meal, cozy bed, and unrelenting psychological manipulation. Makes for a competitive game of Scrabble. 

Sockless Penny Loafers

“Seriousness is the only refuge of the shallow” is another Oscar Wilde quote I enjoy and reference often. 

As professional music types, what we do’s objectively insane, while simultaneously being the single most satisfying way to live one’s life. The cognitive dissonance, at this point, is like slipping into a warm bath. If ever I look at myself in the mirror and my dimpled, jowly countenance isn’t laughing in the general direction of either common sense or someone pursuing the actuarial sciences, well, that’s when I know it’s time for an attitude adjustment, usually courtesy of strolling down 12 South and counting the number of 30-something white guys in sockless penny loafers. The road mercifully not traveled.  

Inside the drudgery, absurdity and discord, there's a ton of fun to be had, and thankfully we’re the ones creating the soundtrack. 

Tokyo Drifting Into the Driveway

Today was a full, happy day, and full, happy days usually conclude with my Tokyo drifting into the driveway while cranking metal at terrifying volume, Mastodon in this case. I’m writing this with still-ringing ears, optimistic that, in all things, loud rock and roll is the answer. 

Had a fantastic podcast with Gideon and Gabe Klein, a hyper-talented production duo here in Nashville, and they spontaneously offered to track a full band one-take video with me, power trio style. I showed them a new tune I wrote called “Neverland,” and away we went. Loud guitars, lots of add9 chords, a John Paul Jones-inspired bass line from Gideon, and Gabe on drums following my direction to a T - you know all that dumb, caveman shit you’d ordinarily get made fun of for playing? Yeah, do that. It was the most fun possible.

Listening back in the control room, I realize I’m digging the minute flaws and idiosyncrasies that make up 2018 Trevor. There’s a human being there, brimming with flummoxing, unwarranted confidence, but his aim’s true. 

Oscar Wilde said it best, as he usually does - be yourself, everyone else is taken.

William Byrd

Inspired by my recent Jacob Collier rabbit hole, I’ve been digging into William Byrd these past few days. Don’t feel bad if you haven’t heard of him, he’s not a SoundCloud artist, YouTube sensation, or in Kanye’s entourage. In fact, he’s dead. And I mean REALLY dead. Like punching out in 1623 dead. 

Anyway, Byrd wrote all kinds of inspired stuff during the Renaissance, and his choral work’s especially amazing. Here’s a link to Mass in Four Voices, the King’s Singers. It’s haunting, intricate, and hypnotic, a welcome counterbalance to the Slayer I was blasting earlier.

And if that doesn’t sell it, YouTube commenter Royce Zaro, from two years ago, is correct - at 9:23, it does sound like they’re singing “genitals on fire.”

Nothing like a relaxing Sunday afternoon eating jellybeans and listening to choral music from the 1590’s. This is what you're missing, ladies.

Episode 16 - Tom Beaupre

Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens #16 is live!

Tom Beaupre is a producer, financial consultant, and the bass player for Florida Georgia Line. He's a stellar human, always a pleasure catching up and swapping stories. 

I'm grateful so many kindred spirits are entering my orbit. Maybe it's the excitement I'm feeling about my own whacky adventures - whatever the reason, it's energizing, and I can't wait to take the show on the road this fall. A new chapter's on the horizon - still nebulous, but comin' in hot - and this podcast's helping me meet the evolution with an enthusiastic hello, gaining perspective through conversation, eager to see what's around the next shadowy bend.  

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Rock Operas

Today was a busy and surreal day. Spock's Beard? Transatlantic? Never heard of 'em? Doesn't surprise me. But you certainly have if you're a progressive rock nerd, and the maniac behind these bands is a dude named Neal Morse, a legend in the prog rock community and personal musical hero of mine.

Turns out, he lives in Nashville, and there's a thriving prog rock community here. Of course he does, and of course there is. He knows who I am, which makes pimply, teenaged Trevor very very happy, and asked me to sing(!) is his latest rock opera for MorseFest. Yes, there's a progressive rock festival in Nashville named after a guy you've never heard of that attracts thousands of odd-time-signature-clapping, doomed-to-be-single dudes. Hits a little close to home, but I proudly count myself among them.

First rehearsal was tonight, and it went well. I have a deep love for this bizarre, nerdy music, and it's a welcome detour before heading out with Al Stone and the fellas. 

Why Aren't You Famous?

I just wrapped up a lovely interview, initially about gear used on the upcoming Allen Stone record, then morphing quickly into discussions on travel, our current political climate, and embracing new media. I’m curious how it comes together in print - I don’t envy the editor - and thankfully Nick Bearden and Jamie Lidell forwarded formidable gear lists, so the internet will be appeased. 

“How come you haven’t been interviewed more?” she asks. “Why don’t more people know who you are?”

Right?! Come on, fame and/or fortune. It’s your friend, Trevor. I’VE BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME.

But I know what she means, and it's flattering being asked. Honestly, I don’t know why artists become well known, aside from the usual suspects - isn't a sociopath, bathes regularly, etc. I feel our responsibility as creatives is to share the things about which we’re passionate, make sure the fridge is filled with non-condiment food, and let the chips fall where they may. It’s not our responsibility to over-explain ourselves and fit into convenient boxes. After years of knocking on every door imaginable and being told to stay out in the proverbial rain, I’m happy digging what I dig and letting the universe unfold as it should. 

In the meantime, between the Not Famous Podcast, Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens, and the handful of podcasts I’ve guested on, there’s over 70 hours of my talking on the internet. I’ve also released over two albums worth of original music via Spotify and one-take videos on YouTube. There’s plenty of Trevor stuff to look at and listen to if you’re so inclined.

And you guys subscribe to this thing! You're all aces in my book.    

Teoria.com

Teoria.com is a comprehensive (and free!) music theory website I've just spent the last couple hours exploring. The ear training exercises are especially cool, with everything from recognizing basic intervals and triad inversions to 7 chords with all kinds of whacky extensions, melodic and rhythmic dictations, the whole nine yards. Really cool, and kinda addicting. 

It's important realizing that music theory isn't a set of rules determining right or wrong, but rather a path towards unlocking our creative potential. Stevie Wonder needs advanced jazz progressions to communicate his art, whereas Bob Dylan, as he puts it, needs three chords and the truth. Adding sharp elevens to everything doesn't make you "better," and strumming G-C-D doesn't mean you're lacking - what the greats have in common's an authentic voice, and deep diving into our craft gets us closer to discovering our own.

Jacob Collier

I’m watching Imagination Off The Charts: Jacob Collier Comes To MIT on YouTube, and I feel incredibly grateful music can be so multifarious, prismatic, and joyful.

Most crazy-ninja types are savants - uniquely gifted in one area, but I can’t imagine them, you know, mowing the lawn, or ordering ice cream or something. Jacob Collier’s a genius - a generational musical talent, but also articulate (alarmingly so), and possessing an insatiable intellectual curiosity, engaged by everything and with everyone. 

I’m most impressed by his ability and willingness to teach. “Those you can do, do, and those who can’t, teach” is ridiculous to the point of being offensive. One grade-A rat bastard came up with that pithy nugget of bullshit, and I wish him or her an eternity of wet-willies. Collier’s relationship with music is effortless, and such mastery combined with a gentle soul breeds profound awareness, which begets inspired patience. Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney, Herbie Hancock - all the true greats possess this quality.

I met Jacob Collier a few years back when the Al Stone band opened for Stevie Wonder in Hyde Park in London. I had no idea who he was at the time, so we were just two affable schmucks watching soccer, drinking coffee, and bullshitting about jet lag. It was a fun hang, and we went our separate ways without my giving it a second thought, until someone showed me YouTube videos later that evening and I face palmed my way back to the US. 

I like smart, talented and kind people. I like Jacob Collier. And I think you will, too.

The Alright Wall of China

Big Country leans over the fence for what I assume’s the usual making fun of my Japanese automobile while mulling over the paradox of his neighbor wearing a fedora while comfortably splitting logs in the encroaching twilight. 

“You know what doesn’t make sense to me, Trevor?” asks Big Country.

I raise my eyebrows.

“Well, I’ve seen pictures of the Great Wall of China. And it’s not a great wall. It’s an alright wall. It’s the Alright Wall of China.”

He hawks a gob of chewing tobacco into his Tennessee Titans mug and resumes tending to his drying overalls while humming “Rhinestone Cowbody.”

Today’s been tough, and this bit of pearly wisdom made my laugh out loud for a long time. I am, yet again, grateful for my walking hillbilly Buddha of a neighbor, and how the worst days are made bearable through absurdity and good humor. 

Flow State

Creativity's a funny thing - it can't be forced, only coaxed out of the gravitational pull of the outside world, and I find a gentle, compassionate approach to discipline's most effective.

In the past, I’ve told myself ok, I’m sitting down and writing for two hours, say. And sometimes I’d do it and feel peachy-keen. Other times, I’d hit a wall, and rather than appreciating the work already put in, I’d focus instead on falling short of the arbitrary time goal and feel like a failure.

Over the course of this year, I’ve realized that writing good stuff everyday makes me happy, not writing for a set amount of time or even being especially prolific. So, I sit down every morning, write until I feel my mind’s wandering, then shut it down. Sometimes that’s four hours, sometimes 20 mins, but I’m noticing my work's objectively better, exponentially more honest. And I can’t wait to dive back in the following morning. 

Just Wander, My Friends

I just got back from an impromptu road trip up to the Amish-friendly state of Ohio - visited friends, caught a cool band, and checked out the equal parts horrifying and endearing Troll Hole Museum in Alliance. I get ancy when I’m in one place for too long - it’s in my DNA to wander - and every week or so I have to go, well, somewhere. 

The wonderful thing about a road trip is it removes you from your routines and anything that might dull your senses. It’s just you, alone with your thoughts, trundling down the lonesome highway, your stresses much more glaring because there are no distractions. It’s a beautiful thing - I burn cleaner on the road, think more clearly, and appreciate the world's so much more than whatever debris’s in my immediate orbit. Over-thought, unsent emails magically coalesce, lyrics emerge out of the ether in blissful droplets, and my spirit whispers encouraging things. This is where you live your life, it says. Out here.

Episode 15 - J. Human

Episode 15 of Trevor Larkin Talks and Listens is live!

J. Human is a Nashville-based solo artist, songwriter and producer. I always love hanging with Joel - he's articulate, thoughtful, and I really admire his candidness in this episode. It's not easy being vulnerable about our setbacks - both Joel and I have experienced initially promising but ultimately brief chapters with major labels, and we spend most of the podcast discussing new chapters in the music business and how best to embrace them. A must-listen for aspiring artists especially, and all of us fighting the good fight.

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