Because I felt like it. There’s really no other reason to write or create something I think. I guess you could say money and depending on what you’re creating, that might make you a bit of an asshole, but I guess everyone’s got a reason. It doesn’t always have to be a righteous or genuine one. When I was growing up, I had a couple of friends who liked to tell stories – that’s not to say that no one else ever did and that I never did, but being the person that I am, looking in from the outside, I always noticed the way they told every tale. And a lot of the time, the stories were true, for the most part. They’d add things when they felt it necessary, or rearrange the sequence of events that might have led to the dramatic climaxes of each tale they would tell. No one story was ever told the same way twice. It always evolved with time. At the time, I always corrected them. “That’s not the way it happened.” And they’d say, “That’s how I remember it.” And that made every detail true. To them and to every person that heard it come from their mouths. Maybe that’s why I grew up loving folk songs. Now, I don’t mean folk songs in some traditional sense – the genre that they’re generally attributed to that is. I just mean songs with a story. Short, little glimpses into the reality or fantasy of a world that people can attach their own stories or fantasies to. Stories allow us to escape, remember, realize, and identify with the world and people that surround us. They allow us to live moments over again. To share ourselves with another person.
“Songs Shared and Forgotten” is the newest album I’ve recorded in a series of probably forgettable albums to most of the world. That’s not to say I don’t feel my music – recorded or otherwise – is bad. I enjoy my own songs. Otherwise I wouldn’t make them. What I’m saying is I don’t really make money from music. I don’t really care to. Sure, it’d be nice, but it’s really not important. The importance of it to me is in sharing it. Putting it out in the world and letting it go and seeing what comes of it. Like most things should be. Like every story your best friend ever told that may not be the same as it was before. This album, “Songs Shared and Forgotten,” and all the preceding ones were made with love and care and purpose. My wife can – and will – tell anyone who asks the amount of agony I caused her playing songs over and over again to get them right – obsessing over the details endlessly till I felt every song was as good as I could make it in a bedroom studio. Because I love albums that unfold thematically. I love stories that intertwine and hopefully allow a listener to get lost inside. So get lost if you so choose, share, and enjoy. Because those are really the most important parts.

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