The album…

Big Brained Apes On A Rock In Space is an album that has been years in the making. Liz, Henry and I moved from Seattle in 2019, relocating to Vermont (we like beautiful places) months before the pandemic hit. Alone, in a new town, with a 3 year old and no community built, the world went into lock down. Nowhere to go indoors except our modest rental home in downtown Burlington. I got so much wonderful time in the natural world with my son that I could never get any other way. Our bond goes deep. It was a lot to manage and handle and we did incredible as a family, but day after day entertaining a 3 year old is also a pressure cooker and you need relief. Guitar playing and writing are it for me. Instant escape. It works every time. I also thought, “maybe I’ll never put anything out again”. But I can’t stop. Always writing notes, always recording snippets, always trying to get magic, whether it’s a live acoustic take or finding a drum loop and bass line or finding the perfect mic placement that captures the sound in the room.

Slowly, I had a few tracks laid down and thought I’d write an EP. But it kept going and something unlocked once I wrote “Why We Gonna Wait All Night?”. An approach not just based on guitar chords and lyrics, but built from disparate elements. I’d always wanted to add the flair I felt in real life - using the French language to tell the story felt like an element of fun I’d never managed to reach in my songwriting before. The album rode that wave of lightness. It was a lightness I needed. We relocated our family from Vermont to Connecticut to experience our family all living in the same area since I was 14 years old. My Mom moved from her home of 78 years in Milwaukee, WI and we moved in together 10 minutes from my sister’s house in CT. It was a beautiful place and welcoming community that was only an hour to the energy of NYC, which we visited as much as we could.

2 weeks after we moved in we began an intense remodel on the home. It finished 4 months later and my mom moved in days later. She was there for 2 months before she fell ill with flu like symptoms. They indicated a much larger problem and after numerous all night sessions in the ER we learned she had a cancer diagnosis. What went from a 3 year prognosis, turned into hospice care and she passed away only 2 precipitous and tortuous months later.

She left a massive hole in my life - my mom, a friend, a confidant. We talked almost every day. The whirlwind was too much and I needed a new place to reset, that wasn’t haunted with the painful memories that the house contained. We made the move back to Milwaukee, not missing the irony that it would be a return to home, but without her there. My Dad had passed suddenly over 20 years prior. What was astounding was how much of our life remained in Milwaukee. How deep the roots go and how beneficial that system would be upon our return. We have found home again. We have found a place of settling and creating our life anew. This album represents that renaissance, personally and artistically. It was born of pain, but it is a celebration of life.

The tracks…

Big Brained Apes On A Rock In Space is an existential walk-thru of the modern complexities that have led so many of us to feel overwhelmed. The chorus finds a release from the human burden of meaning and purpose. “We are free”. Which is, in and of itself, the meaning we seek. Freedom is already granted; here, now. Being a big brained ape on a rock in space is not easy, and the whole is messy masterpiece, but recognizing that you are this fascinating creature in a fascinating situation can ne enough to bring us to the awe we need and seek. Quiet My Soul is a self-talk song; ”don't get too high, don't get too low”. A music friend said it back in the day and it’s always stuck with me as the way to be in this world. I used to think the exact opposite. Ride those emotions! Use them! But, boy is that a roller coaster and you don’t need to be up and down all the time to create art, or create anything. No, in fact, you need to be even, and put in the work so you can explore those human emotions. Steady and consistent. Chip away. The images in this song are personal. I wear my Dad’s wedding ring and used to love to hide in my Mom’s dress, being incredibly shy. They have both passed on now and now, with my own family, I do think there are times when you have to make your mind up and stand up for what you need to do for them. Been Played The Fool has an atypical Latin groove, yet it captures the mysterious feeling of being compelled towards something or someone you can't have, or shouldn’t be with. The conundrum of being attracted to that which is out of your reach, which always leaves you on the outs, being played the fool. But sometimes it's worth looking like a fool, if only for some enjoyable memories. I discovered an old roomy telecaster groove a had recorded to a click track in Vermont and built the song around that. I love the whistling and oddly lengthy melody to start off the song. The groove was enhanced by the drummer from Argentina and the conga player. I found them online and it is truly a feat of modernity that I can make music with people across the world and feel a real connection. I normally would scoff at this, but with my life as it was and is constructed I had no other choices. For what it is, i am so proud of connecting with these incredible musicians and creating real bonds I hope continue. Send For Me is a love song. It's also a question. Who will hold you in there arms when your day is done? I'm saying "send for me", I'll come running from anywhere, anytime. But there's also that question we all have: who is gonna ride with me to the very end? Can we really ask that of anyone else? If we don't get that, exactly as we envision it, can that be ok? Can we hold in our hearts always, knowing our loved ones love us and we love them back? A lot of questions. Thankfully I think there's an answer amongst them all. This song is a journey through that question that ends with a suspension (in the music and meaning), leaving you with a question hanging in the air. Allowing you space for an answer. I had this song as a very, very simple acoustic tune for probably 10+ years. It has followed me everywhere and finally I got it down on record. It took off, out of my control and I love how it builds, adding layers of organ, guitar, and female backing vocals, letting them come in right when they need to. A bit odd to be complimenting the song, as I produced it, so it may sound like bragging but I never feel that kind of ownership to the creation. I feel like I’m simply following what needs to be done, or what is to be-revealed. I go down a million “wrong paths” and hope to find a fruitful end, which becomes the final version. A song could literally be an infinite number of versions. We only settle on one to call an album done. I’m no genius or unique, but this is my process, and it’s ever-evolving. Grow With Me speaks for itself. Raw, one take. The moments that make up a life. Written during a period of great change, starting a family, yet yearning for adventure. The new adventure turned out to be the adventure of family and raising a child. The moments that make up a day are never dull, this is where are the joy we’re looking for resides. Quite literally in grabbing the mail or building a shelf. Recorded in an old home built early last century in Vermont. The ambience of those old rooms add so much character to the recording process. Give Me Your Room, Give Me Tonight…. sometimes all you need is a night together. All of joys of life are right there. It's so simple. I tried this song a million different ways. A much more chill vibe with no drums or bass. Leaving out the bridge. A tiny tweak to the vocals and the song felt lost. I finished writing it long ago, on a solo retreat in an A frame cabin in the Adirondacks. A beautiful fall escape. and it’s supposed to be capture that cold night by a warm fire feeling. I’m an old-fashioned romantic and will take a night like that any time. The “3 years up by the borderline” refers to our 3 years in Vermont. Amongst all these dreams and desires, I’m seeking peace - that’s the new number one priority for life. Going Over Jordan in A Cadillac is one of my favorites. Musically, it was inspired by Elvis' gospel harmonies. Lyrically, it was inspired by my time in Ghana, where there is a tradition of fantasy coffin making that reflects something of the character of a person's life. They will make a huge coffin that looks like a car for a taxi driver, for instance. "Going Over Jordan In A Cadillac" was inspired by this idea of crossing over to the next world in style. It's also about moving through this world, this time we have, with flair and joy. My friend Joey shares my environmental values and concerns and was referenced in the song. He would give me crap for using an old gas guzzler car as a metaphor, but c'mon Joe, let's have some fun. I thought of my Mom a lot while making this song. She crossed over in 2023 and she loved living in style. She loved vibrant colors and cheerful, smiling people. When I say “going down with the band on the Titanic” it’s a shoutout to all my fellow musicians. This endeavor is insane. Put your heart out in the most vulnerable way possible and have it judged by strangers for value. Then attach a commercial value to it. It’s ludicrous recipe for disaster, but we do it any way. They’ll never get it, but we’re going down with the band on the Titanic.

Why We Gotta Wait All Night is a story song about Davey, a dancer whose impromptu dancing on a street in Paris is noticed by a woman at a nearby cafe. Complimenting his beautiful feet (in French) she leads him to a club where they dance, then picnic along the Seine. She takes him home where he sustains injuries during their evening escapade but he is happier than he's ever been. "Oh, Mon Petit Chou" is "oh, my little cabbage", a term of endearment in French that I still remember from a book called “Wicked French”. My friend Peter and I used it when we went to France with his family in 8th grade. It had all kinds of interesting sayings that French locals might use. I’m sure we were intolerably annoying to everyone, but we had fun. This song broke something open for me. The crazy falsetto vocals. The bass groove. The synth at the end. The French lyrics and bridge full of toy instruments. I had a blast with it and it was the one that told me - yes, put this out in the world, put an album out and stretch the creativity as far as you can

Can’t Push A River is a middle aged fever dream. This song is about turning your middle aged daily grind into a game. Turn that receding hairline and those fine wrinkles can be morphed into a heightened 007 drama where you try and thrive through the maze of your day. You can't fight time. You can't do much, really. You get down on your knees, you pray. You don't fight the river, you jump in for the ride. I’ve been surprised how much love this song has gotten. It’s been called desert rock, which I love. The beat is locked in and the groove is dark and sleek. My wife said the line “you can’t push a river” one day - she is prone to these wise quips that come out of nowhere and I grabbed on to it and used it for the song.

Walking In The Light is a tribute track to my mother, Mary Lou Zuege, who passed in 2023. I had the privilege of being her son and being by her side through a precipitous and difficult transition from this world. She was a worldly, yet salt of the earth woman with a prodigious, omnivorous intelligence and curiosity. She grew up in rural Wisconsin and lived an incredible life. She was a champion of those who weren't dealt an easy hand and worked tirelessly to help the underserved. This track is in honor of her life and attitude. I wanted the track to capture the sound of Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson. We grew up visiting my grandparents in Black River Falls, WI and when we went to bed they’d leave the radio on all night. It was AM country radio and it seeped into my brain. They slept like logs, sawing them too, while we stared at the ceiling listening to the sounds of country radio. I wanted a gospel element because she was a woman of great faith and loved music that brought joy to your soul. The song ends on an upturn inspired by Paul Simon’s Kodachrome. I sure don’t have anything on him, but that moment has always been one of my favorite musical moments ever.

Acoustic Apes is the acoustic version of the title track and shares almost all of the same lyrics. They sandwich the record as they encapsulate much of the core statement of the record. Instead of speaking of the pressure we put on ourselves, the final statement in this version is "being big brained apes on a rock in space sounds pretty great to me." Do we really need an embellished story where we are the most important crowning achievement of all creation, or can we just look at where we are with absolute wonder. If there is a creator maybe all it asks is - "look at my creation, enjoy it, take care of this bountiful, lush rock in space.” It seems so easy in theory, but of course it’s not in real life. I wish we could all leave behind so much of the grubby bullshit we chase after. I love hard work. I’m a worker bee, but I also hope we can savor this brief life instead of fighting our little ego battles fueled by distraction and the need to consume. I believe we can and believe it’s the only way forward so we can leave something livable behind for the little humans coming on our heels.