my mom was my first real fan. She would laugh at my non-coherent singing in the backseat of her “shoe lookin ass” car before I could speak full sentences. I was raised in the parts of Maine where the trees covered miles before the next house. The only landmarks were locally owned corner stores or a cemetery older than the town themselves. I was lonely. So music filled my heart with joy.

My CD collection was limited to whatever I could find in my grandparents’ basement. This hub of junk was occasionally contributed to by my mom and her siblings. I would find old 90s grunge, early hip-hop, and 80s hair metal. I even found a cassette of Kenny G tucked away in a plastic crate. I still use my Walkman for certain classics; luckily my car plays decent enough.

My first public performance was at Captain Bly’s Tavern in Buckfield, Maine. It was a humble open mic a friend introduced me to. I lost track of how many basement bars I’ve played. I spend more time sketching in books or cruising around on my board these days. Recently I’m putting together ”close2home”; a two sided album that sequels my debut “bad headspace”.