I’m from the Northeastern US. My people are descended from dowdy Puritans, dissenting Quakers, a Revolutionary War general who got lost in the fog on December 25, 1776, a Salem-Witch-Trial Judge who later recanted, a preacher, a painter, a pianist: an ancestry that is wonderfully checkered and complicated like everything else in America. The indigenous music of the Northeast is great - sea shanties, folk and Celtic stuff were always being played in my house, both on the radio and by-hand on guitars – but I was drawn to something with more of a bayou backbeat, and to find that you have to go elsewhere…so when I was old enough, I did.
The first day I set foot in Chicago, Illinois, I saw Buddy Guy and Junior Wells perform together. This was a transformative experience. The next time I caught their act, I noticed that the audience was mostly comprised of guys – many of them intoxicated and performing dubious air-guitar. A few years later, I noticed that most of the girls I had been trying to impress were listening to Garth Brooks and Mary Chapin Carpenter. I figured if I wanted to get the girl, I better pay heed. So I did, and my musical path has been clear ever since.
I try like hell to avoid playing too many notes on the guitar (weedly-weedly-wee...yawn), but, man, it sure is fun to step on the gas once in awhile! The influence of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Roy Nichols looms large in my playing.
I'm humbled by the truck load of songwriters in my neck of the woods and am fortunate to be friends with some of them. I'm grateful that they don't mind too much when I take one of their tunes out for a spin, even if it gets returned with a missing hubcap or a dented fender. In 2009 I had a nice run on the independent country radio charts with "The Devil In Me," a two step ditty about a bad fella written by my good friend Carl Cacho.
