1st time for everything, show #2, punch to the gut, no wind, gospel music FTW

March 2016, our 2nd performance (see below) ever at Ca D'zan House Concerts (which I still have to look up to this day how to spell) in Cambridge, IL after having played our 1st show at The Washington in Burlington, IA to a sold out (in our eyes, like 20 people) crowd of family and friends. And, after having spent the winter driving from Peoria to Galva once a week to rehearse in Nathan Glaser's cold ass basement this was what started it all.

Just acoustic guitars, upright bass, the largest drum set in Henry County on the smallest (greatest) stage in Henry County, 4 egos and 4 hearts on a stage in front of a room of loved ones who would support us no matter what kind of music we made.

We've grown a ton since then as musicians, songwriters, and people. Some of us have parted ways, and we've brought new people into the band who are adapting to my never ending will to chase songs that are the makeup of who I am and we are.

We've put out our first and second collection of recordings called Flat Black Sessions, have played Central Illinois until we're blue in the face, and had some really great moments.

First Time For Everything: Music

I started writing songs a long time ago and fell in love with the process in early in my 20s when I was still fiddling with the best damn bluegrass band from Knox County Frank F. Sidney's Western Bandit Volunteers. I'd come home from my shitty job at Enterprise, or the newspaper and write for 4 hours a night at the kitchen table. Lindsay is a saint. She's heard alllll of the songs.

I've been gigging since I was 16 in various forms and have learned a ton, and the more I learn the less I know.

One thing I do know is music has called to me my entire life, and my first memory of that is when I was 7 years old. Grandpa Sam (short for Samuelson) drove us and the 5th wheel camper to Kalona, IA for a gospel festival. I remember hearing mandolins, fiddles, banjos and 3 part vocal harmonies for the first time in my life and the sweet sounds filled the summer air that night.

However, the exact moment I remember vividly calling to me was when I got lost from grandma and grandpa on my way to find the restroom. They stayed back and watched the music, probably assuming I'd be fine on my own at a gospel festival.

Well, I actually got the wind knocked out of me after some kids punched me in the gut and took the money I was planning on using at the vending machine.

That was the first time I'd been punched, the first time the wind had been knocked out of me, the first time I realized people are gonna be shitty and the first time I learned there are nice people right there to help you back up to your feet.

I distinctly remember gasping for air and hearing nothing but the ringing of my ears and the music off in the distance emanating from the valley stage.

All this to say, I felt for the first time music in my soul. Those shit ass kids knocked it right into me. Perhaps it was coincidence that they punched me at the same time I heard the sounds of bluegrass music.

BTW, where ever you are, you never gave me a chance to say "Fah Q!".

Why are we who we are? Why am I me? Why am I here? Why are you you? Is it worth answering at all?

At some point I just accepted I am who I am and have tried to work with instead of against the grain of my spirit.