Tag: songwriter

crazy is just what i do

Hi everyone,

It’s time for more of this:

I wrote this song in my apartment when I lived in the City Market building across the street from Canada Place in Edmonton… so in the first verse where it says “I watch the sunrise in the reflection of the building across the street” – that building is Canada Place.

I hope you enjoy this video and this song. It’s very fast, and sorta hard to play… but the song used to be much slower and much longer, and actually pre-dates The Confusionaires by a year or two, now that I think of it… but it drives the point home so I hung onto it!

Thanks for watching and reading.

manifest

I have a full life, and I truly love my full life. At the risk of bragging, I have a family that consists of a very supportive girlfriend and a teenage daughter that wants to spend time with me. If you have a teenage daughter, you know that’s rare. I have an amazing dog that teaches me life’s most simple and important lessons every day… I have a fantastic job that doesn’t interfere with my art-life… and my art life is growing constantly.

There is no part of my life that actively interferes with any other part of my life and if that’s not balance, then I don’t know what is. I realize that I have manifested this; or in a more traditional sense, I built it.

The word manifest; itself, comes from two root words:
Manus – the latin noun for ‘hand’
Festus – which comes from the latin adjective ‘infestus’ which is the root for words like ‘infestation’ and ‘festival’

… so it more or less translates to hand party… or ‘to put a lot of your own hands into something.’ You cannot really manifest anything by sitting around and wishing for it… you have to put thought into action.

That’s the long way around… but it means: I wanted this and I created it.

This was made all to clear to me on a recent phone call with an old friend I don’t see anywhere near enough, where he reminded me of a conversation we’d had in our early 20s about what we wanted our future to be. We’d both fantasized about perfecting our artistic crafts in a humble way, being shit-hot writers and performers who lived covertly normal lives. Essentially being a big deal to a niche market, so we could have modestly nice homes surrounded by good neighbors who had no idea who we really were. A secret identity of sorts.

He spent a few minutes pointing out to me that I have exactly that life – with a few variables augmented slightly – but still, it’s a conversation I won’t soon forget that has filled me with gratitude.

So although this life is full, and occasionally it exhausts me… it was put this way with thoughtful intention and I am extremely grateful for it.

not my business

It’s time for another one of these…

I’m trying to get into the habit of posting one of these every few weeks, and at the risk of appearing too lazy to make a video AND a separate blog post… well.. if that appears lazy to you, then I guess you’ll have to take a look at your expectations of other people.

I write lots… mostly songs. So, here’s a look at one of those songs that my rock & roll band ‘The Confusionaires’ plays regularly.

I like to write songs about things… and when you play in a noisy rock & roll band, sometimes the subject matter gets suppressed by the energy.

Enjoy!

milestones

I don’t know if this is all part of the human experience or if it’s some sort of songwriter / poet struggle but lately I’m pretty taken with the notion that the story we’re all telling never really ends.

That can be as depressing as you want it to be… but by my calculation, life is just as short as it is long. We’re all likely to be working day-in and day-out on something, and if we’re truly lucky then it’ll be something that matters to us on a spiritual level – but at no point can we expect anyone else to really care about it the way we care about it.

I write songs. I write songs and compose music with intensity and hunger, as if I’m going to write the most important song ever. And the truth of the matter is that I’ve written the most important song ever many times. Every song I’ve ever written is important and I’m going to be writing songs until I die.

I belabor every step of the process… from writing and composing to performing… from performing to recording… the mixing and mastering and duplication of the recording… back to performing and reinterpreting the recorded works in hopes that people will take a copy home with them… and back to writing and composing…

I’m fortunate, that in this day and age… right here in 2025, there are people who care about what I am doing artistically, but I would be remiss to assume they care more than I do. I’ve received many accolades and words of encouragement and as much as I appreciate the encouragement and am flattered by the kind words, these words do something different than you might think. Sure, my ego likes the boost – but really this encouragement sends me deeper and deeper into poetry and storytelling, because it affirms that I’m on the right path.

And this path is fraught with suffering.

This is what I’ve learned how to do, and if you’ve read this and understood it, then this is probably what you’ve learned how to do as well… suffer.

I’ve found it in my fitness journey as well. My progress on the running trail, or the mountain biking trail, or in the weight room at the gym… progress comes from a level of suffering that is just beyond where you’ve already been. I love the feeling of going to the limits of what my body can and ultimately seeing god when I get there, and knowing that the next time I see god it will be just beyond where I saw god last. Writing and composing is the same… when the work is finished, and I can step back and wonder how this piece of art came through me, because it is bigger than me.

And it is a cycle that never ends.
And I truly love it.

attentive

In my artistic life – not that I segregate my life, but certain things require a singular focus and art is one of those things – my band and I are embarking on another recording project.

To date, we’ve released 3 full length albums and essentially 3 EPs, and I’ve essentially lost count of the ‘sessions’ we’ve done because (a) there’s been a lot of them, and (b) my memory is not great most of the time and these things tend to run together, especially when it’s been the same 3 guys, and pretty much historically has happened in the same studio. We’ve also done a bonkers amount of rehearsal recordings.

Sometime next year, we’ll take our artistry and duplicate it a whole bunch of times and turn it into a product to be bought & sold. It’ll become a commodity that people can have an opinion on, and they’ll determine if it holds up to our other albums, and at some point someone will say they liked our “old stuff” better, which will add a linear element to all of this, thereby making us feel old or something.

But for now, we make art. We set up microphones and baffles and headphone mixes and we flush out chord progressions and ramblings and churn them into songs. There will be pounding drums and loud guitar amplifiers and we’ll allow our imaginations to take us into strange places. We’ll weave together poetry and bent strings and interesting rhythms and low frequencies and our dreams will stretch our further than our shadows.

Working a job in between recording sessions is brutal, but we’ll do it because it’s the part of the process we can’t do without just yet. The transition from the top of our creative mindframe to the of an exhausted and underslept worker and back again is so painfully humbling, yet necessary.

Months later, a critic will refer to our efforts as “fairly country” or “chaotic” and if we’re lucky, both of those terms in the same sentence – but that’s in the future, and we don’t live in the future, we live in the now, and now is the time for art. Now is the time when we redefine and reframe the way we’re perceived by the world, designing a work that will give us another shot at notoriety. We fully believe it will propel us further, but how much further is not yet determined.

I have to focus on the art right now, though imagining a future in which this artist work already exists is such a beautiful distraction.
Now is the time for focus.
Now is the time to be attentive.
Now is the time for art – while completely disregarding the future possibilities.

We can’t create art for the future, this is a snapshot of the present.

The future will take care of itself.

The future happens anyway.