If you can recall the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan, then you have a crystalline picture of the present state of the music industry: absolute carnage on all fronts. Record labels have begun suing people for illegally downloading new albums, while paradoxically, more and more bands, such as Green Day, are streaming their new albums for free. Technology has leveled the playing field, allowing anyone with a MacBook to release an album, and the price of gas continues to push more and more up-and-coming bands off the road because they can no longer justify driving a hundred miles to split $50 four ways. It seems like nobody’s making a living anymore, except the lawyers and maybe the toothpaste companies buying ads on American Idol.

An artist would have to be plumb crazy to walk away from a well-oiled support team and try to enter this fray alone. Right?

Please explain what just happened.

I just got off work, I ate a breakfast taco, and went to the bathroom.

 

What is your earliest memory?

I was born in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. My family and I lived in a basement apartment for a few years, and I remember having a dream that Darth Vader walked into my bedroom. I don’t remember if anything interesting happened after that, though. Another early memory from those years, living in the basement, was a time where we climbed an enormous fence, at the end of our block, to get to McDonald’s. A couple of years ago I asked my parents if they remember that and they said there was no enormous fence there. Haha. I’ve always had a pretty adventurous imagination I suppose.