PureVolume

I spent the last four months in the hospital fighting cancer (T-cell lymphoma). I was diagnosed in May and immediately started chemotherapy. I did five rounds of chemo in all, ending in early August. It was very successful but since my lymphoma was so aggressive, the doctors decided that I would need a bone marrow transplant. Luckily, my brother Wayne was a perfect match and I got the transplant on August 12. It went well. There are a lot of side effects I'm dealing with right now, but hopefully the cancer is wiped out and I'll make a full recovery.

I recorded two new songs while in the hospital. One is called "Streaks of White," about how my experiences changed my outlook on life. The other is called "No Sixth Verse," about taking things for granted. I also co-recorded a full album with a guitarist/songwriter named Tim Ringgold, who I met through the (amazingly helpful) music therapy program at Scripps. I'll write more about this when I feel up to it.

I currently have 17 songs posted for free download, the most I've ever had up. I'm glad to give it away. It makes me feel good that someone would find reason to listen. I know protest music isn't exactly popular and I've never been much of a self-promoter. But it's here for those who want it. More pointedly, it's here for those who need it... for those who need to know they're not the only ones angry or disillusioned at how the world is. You're not alone. And every time I see somebody listened or downloaded something, I know I'm not alone either.

My favorite tracks of the moment are "These Colors Can't Walk (C)" "Disney Lies" "Cascade" "Streaks of White" and "Masters of War". Sometimes I would listen in the hospital and it made me feel satisfied but also restless. Satisfied, because I concluded that some of this stuff is damn good. If I die from the cancer or the transplant or some other unexpected thing, I know I've left something behind of value that can stand on its own. It's a tremendous edge to feel that way when you're facing death. It's a confidence builder. It emboldens. But it also made me restless, because I wanted so badly to get free from the hospital and the cancer---such a stifling and draining existence---to where I could create again. The idea of not being able to, that I might be denied my chance to be a crusty old blueser someday with a thousand songs at my fingertips, just hurt.

Thanks to my brother, I might get that chance after all. In the meantime, I have a guitar, a cheap microphone, 10 gigabytes of space on my hard drive and doctor's orders to take it easy. So... new songs posted soon, probably.