new full-length lp coming spring 2025
Happy to share that my new album OUTRO is coming Spring 2025.
OUTRO is my first full-length record since 2018's Picardy. I had a conversation with my friend Molly last year where I put it out there that "outros" were my favorite part of a song. I'm not sure that's entirely true, but what I love about them is that you’ve heard all the parts of the song so far, you’ve learned all the moves. They often feel like the distillation of the whole song. It was all emotionally leading to this moment. Repetition, mantra, or wordless, high emotions. The musicians are just going for it. The anticipation of the end.
And well, I’m also thinking a lot about the end. Take that whatever way you want to take it. If you need some options: our country and its democratic ideals, the inevitable warming of the planet, or, I don't know, life in general. Or, if you prefer, the good endings--I don't know--New Year's Eve parties? The last day on a job or a retirement. Graduations. The last page of a good book. Leaving an old home for a new one. I love a big, joyous, and loud ending. I love the potential beauty of the inevitable.
So what's that mean in regards to this collection of songs? I don't know. You tell me.
There's "Cloudy for the Eclipse"--another title from something Marc said--or texted in this case about the most recent solar eclipse. It just struck me as funny, how disappointed people were around here that the view of the eclipse wasn’t as great as they hoped--when our ancestors would have thought it was the end of the world. And we’re upset that our ocean view isn’t as good as it used to be. That kind of thing.
"What Do They Know? pushes back on all the endings I’ve been experiencing lately--deaths, grief, doom purveyors, people who think they know it all. "Two Carolines" came from another conversation with Molly. Just an off-the-cuff remark about Caroline Rose and Caroline Polachek and how “Two Carolines” would be a good title. And then I imagined these strong women taking over the world. And ending men. Or something like that. "Used to Be" is about the end of who you once were. "Version of Me" and "Wash Them All Away" are both about escapes. I seem to write about escapes a lot. "Check Please" is about the end of a relationship--and how it’s not so bad if you get a song out of it. "Backwards God" is a song about the dogs we’ve lost and will lose--and how lucky we are to have them. There's a song I didn't finish titled "Right to Oblivion." I guess that will have to wait until next time.
One of the goals for this album was to include more people, and I did pretty well on that account. Some frequent collaborators, some new ones, and some I haven't played with in a long time. I'm excited for you to hear how great my friends are. Matt Magarahan, Tim Celfo, and Sean Hoots are back for some songs. As is Brad Hinton and our friend Phil D'Agostino. It was a joy to invite Dr. Dog's Eric Slick to play drums on 6 of the tracks--and to get Eliza Hardy Jones on backing vocals. And I just loved getting to work with Neil Cavanagh again, probably 30 years (!) since we last played together in college--in an early-Genesis, Yes tribute band. (Return of the Giant Hogweed, I guess!) And if that doesn't show my age, Alex Weinstein and I "met" on MySpace years ago. He plays lovely acoustic guitar on "Backwards God."
It was fun to go back to Miner Street Recordings to mix these songs. Brian McTear and Amy Morrissey are great people with great ears and taste and knowledge.
And how about that album art by Brian Langan? I just love it.
More info on OUTRO coming soon.
OUTRO is my first full-length record since 2018's Picardy. I had a conversation with my friend Molly last year where I put it out there that "outros" were my favorite part of a song. I'm not sure that's entirely true, but what I love about them is that you’ve heard all the parts of the song so far, you’ve learned all the moves. They often feel like the distillation of the whole song. It was all emotionally leading to this moment. Repetition, mantra, or wordless, high emotions. The musicians are just going for it. The anticipation of the end.
And well, I’m also thinking a lot about the end. Take that whatever way you want to take it. If you need some options: our country and its democratic ideals, the inevitable warming of the planet, or, I don't know, life in general. Or, if you prefer, the good endings--I don't know--New Year's Eve parties? The last day on a job or a retirement. Graduations. The last page of a good book. Leaving an old home for a new one. I love a big, joyous, and loud ending. I love the potential beauty of the inevitable.
So what's that mean in regards to this collection of songs? I don't know. You tell me.
There's "Cloudy for the Eclipse"--another title from something Marc said--or texted in this case about the most recent solar eclipse. It just struck me as funny, how disappointed people were around here that the view of the eclipse wasn’t as great as they hoped--when our ancestors would have thought it was the end of the world. And we’re upset that our ocean view isn’t as good as it used to be. That kind of thing.
"What Do They Know? pushes back on all the endings I’ve been experiencing lately--deaths, grief, doom purveyors, people who think they know it all. "Two Carolines" came from another conversation with Molly. Just an off-the-cuff remark about Caroline Rose and Caroline Polachek and how “Two Carolines” would be a good title. And then I imagined these strong women taking over the world. And ending men. Or something like that. "Used to Be" is about the end of who you once were. "Version of Me" and "Wash Them All Away" are both about escapes. I seem to write about escapes a lot. "Check Please" is about the end of a relationship--and how it’s not so bad if you get a song out of it. "Backwards God" is a song about the dogs we’ve lost and will lose--and how lucky we are to have them. There's a song I didn't finish titled "Right to Oblivion." I guess that will have to wait until next time.
One of the goals for this album was to include more people, and I did pretty well on that account. Some frequent collaborators, some new ones, and some I haven't played with in a long time. I'm excited for you to hear how great my friends are. Matt Magarahan, Tim Celfo, and Sean Hoots are back for some songs. As is Brad Hinton and our friend Phil D'Agostino. It was a joy to invite Dr. Dog's Eric Slick to play drums on 6 of the tracks--and to get Eliza Hardy Jones on backing vocals. And I just loved getting to work with Neil Cavanagh again, probably 30 years (!) since we last played together in college--in an early-Genesis, Yes tribute band. (Return of the Giant Hogweed, I guess!) And if that doesn't show my age, Alex Weinstein and I "met" on MySpace years ago. He plays lovely acoustic guitar on "Backwards God."
It was fun to go back to Miner Street Recordings to mix these songs. Brian McTear and Amy Morrissey are great people with great ears and taste and knowledge.
And how about that album art by Brian Langan? I just love it.
More info on OUTRO coming soon.
I’m happy to announce that my debut novel, Darling Energy, will be available on tuesday, february 25th, 2020.
Here’s the book jacket skinny:
17-year-old Dylan Geringer isn’t a superhero, but there’s still hope for her anagram-inspired alter ego, DARLING ENERGY.
When the all-call system at Dylan’s high school sends out a series of mysterious, automated phone messages in the middle of the night, Dylan and her partner-in-crime, Steven, won’t rest until they find out who’s sending them and why they’ve prompted the town to gather at Valley Forge Park on the Ides of March. Within days of the first message, Dylan and Steven’s investigation yields bigger and more private mysteries among the lives of their classmates and especially about their favorite English teacher, Mr. Drake.
The fact that March 15th is both Dylan’s birthday and the ten-year anniversary of the death of Mr. Drake’s son, Benjamin, complicates the countdown. Dylan will need to summon all of her Darling Energy powers to wrangle the town together and keep it from falling apart, and she’ll need Steven’s help to save Mr. Drake from the gathering crowd of marching bands, barbershop quartets, and robed cultists.
Who’s it for?
I wrote this story for all my former, current, and future high school students. It’s a 392-page thank you note.
I hope it speaks to the young people I teach, because Lord knows they’ve spoken to me. Every year I meet new students who push my thinking, who challenge my assumptions, who, in the face of constant uncertainty and confusion, of anxieties and ambitions, face their futures with a dogged hope. I’m a better person for knowing them. I’m lucky to have so many opportunities to love.
This is a story for all the adults that love them, too. It’s a story about the lessons young people teach those of us who are willing to listen.
How did it come to be?
Back in 2005, I was on a big anagram kick. I loved putting people’s names into the anagram server at wordsmith.org and seeing what combinations their computers spit out. Type in Benjamin Smith; get out Banishment Jim. Type in Kanye West; get out Sweaty Ken. Type in Mother Teresa; get out Heart Meteors. Instant alter ego or new band name.
It was not a particularly welcoming activity on the first day of school, but I used to place students’ anagram names on their assigned seats and ask them to find their seat. Some names were more fruitful than others. Dylan Geringer’s name spawned so many wonderful combinations, among them the eventual title of the book. I also loved the rearrangement of letters my colleague Trevor Drake’s name conjured: Dr. Overtaker. I loved those two alternative names so much that, one night lying in bed, ten years later, I opened up my phone’s Notes app and wrote the first paragraph of Darling Energy.
How can I purchase a copy?
Print and eBook versions will be available on Amazon on Tuesday, February 25th.
Inquiries about the book & the author can be emailed to [email protected]
17-year-old Dylan Geringer isn’t a superhero, but there’s still hope for her anagram-inspired alter ego, DARLING ENERGY.
When the all-call system at Dylan’s high school sends out a series of mysterious, automated phone messages in the middle of the night, Dylan and her partner-in-crime, Steven, won’t rest until they find out who’s sending them and why they’ve prompted the town to gather at Valley Forge Park on the Ides of March. Within days of the first message, Dylan and Steven’s investigation yields bigger and more private mysteries among the lives of their classmates and especially about their favorite English teacher, Mr. Drake.
The fact that March 15th is both Dylan’s birthday and the ten-year anniversary of the death of Mr. Drake’s son, Benjamin, complicates the countdown. Dylan will need to summon all of her Darling Energy powers to wrangle the town together and keep it from falling apart, and she’ll need Steven’s help to save Mr. Drake from the gathering crowd of marching bands, barbershop quartets, and robed cultists.
Who’s it for?
I wrote this story for all my former, current, and future high school students. It’s a 392-page thank you note.
I hope it speaks to the young people I teach, because Lord knows they’ve spoken to me. Every year I meet new students who push my thinking, who challenge my assumptions, who, in the face of constant uncertainty and confusion, of anxieties and ambitions, face their futures with a dogged hope. I’m a better person for knowing them. I’m lucky to have so many opportunities to love.
This is a story for all the adults that love them, too. It’s a story about the lessons young people teach those of us who are willing to listen.
How did it come to be?
Back in 2005, I was on a big anagram kick. I loved putting people’s names into the anagram server at wordsmith.org and seeing what combinations their computers spit out. Type in Benjamin Smith; get out Banishment Jim. Type in Kanye West; get out Sweaty Ken. Type in Mother Teresa; get out Heart Meteors. Instant alter ego or new band name.
It was not a particularly welcoming activity on the first day of school, but I used to place students’ anagram names on their assigned seats and ask them to find their seat. Some names were more fruitful than others. Dylan Geringer’s name spawned so many wonderful combinations, among them the eventual title of the book. I also loved the rearrangement of letters my colleague Trevor Drake’s name conjured: Dr. Overtaker. I loved those two alternative names so much that, one night lying in bed, ten years later, I opened up my phone’s Notes app and wrote the first paragraph of Darling Energy.
How can I purchase a copy?
Print and eBook versions will be available on Amazon on Tuesday, February 25th.
Inquiries about the book & the author can be emailed to [email protected]
it's here: new full-length album PIcardy!
It's with great excitement that I announce the release of my new album Picardy (pronounced PIK-er-dee). It's my first full-length record since 2011's Crooked Earth and I couldn't be more proud of it.
In music theory, the picardy third--also known as the “happy third”--is an altered tone that turns a sad piece of music into a happy one. It brings a hopeful resolution where the listener was expecting resignation. In the key of C, it’s the difference between an E flat and an E natural. It’s a sigh of relief.
In a more general sense, this is what music does for us: it raises our spirits, one note at a time. It’s a quality we find in our closest friends and one we hope to find in our community and country. In a time of such loud division, wouldn’t it be great if our greatest impulses got the picardy treatment, guided by an elevation towards compassion and respect--and ultimately, love? To a certain extent, that’s what the songs on Picardy are all about.
You’ll find plenty of love songs in this collection, but I hope I’ve taken them one step farther this time. It’s not enough just to love. You’ve got to love recklessly and with abandon. You’ve got to love in spite of yourself and despite the odds. You’ve got to love in the face of hate even. And you’ve got to share that love as widely and as often as possible. Love without action is just warmth--and that’s not going to cut it.
I hope these 12 songs provide you some temporary elevation.
You can purchase the record HERE at my Bandcamp website. Or on iTunes, if you prefer. It's also available on all your favorite steaming platforms: Spotify, iTunes, AppleMusic, GooglePlay, Tidal
In music theory, the picardy third--also known as the “happy third”--is an altered tone that turns a sad piece of music into a happy one. It brings a hopeful resolution where the listener was expecting resignation. In the key of C, it’s the difference between an E flat and an E natural. It’s a sigh of relief.
In a more general sense, this is what music does for us: it raises our spirits, one note at a time. It’s a quality we find in our closest friends and one we hope to find in our community and country. In a time of such loud division, wouldn’t it be great if our greatest impulses got the picardy treatment, guided by an elevation towards compassion and respect--and ultimately, love? To a certain extent, that’s what the songs on Picardy are all about.
You’ll find plenty of love songs in this collection, but I hope I’ve taken them one step farther this time. It’s not enough just to love. You’ve got to love recklessly and with abandon. You’ve got to love in spite of yourself and despite the odds. You’ve got to love in the face of hate even. And you’ve got to share that love as widely and as often as possible. Love without action is just warmth--and that’s not going to cut it.
I hope these 12 songs provide you some temporary elevation.
You can purchase the record HERE at my Bandcamp website. Or on iTunes, if you prefer. It's also available on all your favorite steaming platforms: Spotify, iTunes, AppleMusic, GooglePlay, Tidal
first single off picardy, "That's why we walk"
I'm excited to share with you the first single off my new album Picardy. [Coming Tuesday, June 5th]
"That's Why We Walk" is all 80s bloated glory: big, fat synths and drum machines, earnest call-to-action lyrics. I offer it to you with no hint of irony. We need big songs right now, so here you go.
We've got a lot of reasons to walk these days. I've been especially inspired by the recent walking and talking of the young people in our country, like the kids I teach. I'm ready to follow.
Picardy in its entirety is headed your way late summer. For now, hope you enjoy the song!
"That's Why We Walk" is all 80s bloated glory: big, fat synths and drum machines, earnest call-to-action lyrics. I offer it to you with no hint of irony. We need big songs right now, so here you go.
We've got a lot of reasons to walk these days. I've been especially inspired by the recent walking and talking of the young people in our country, like the kids I teach. I'm ready to follow.
Picardy in its entirety is headed your way late summer. For now, hope you enjoy the song!
NEW RELEASE, 2015 -- "DAS DEFINO: A SONG SUITE"
Read about the new EP and its strange story. Stream and purchase below.
In 1996, Das Defino’s notebook was found in a field I’ve never visited, behind a yellow farmhouse in rural central Virginia, by folks I’ve never met. I’ve never seen the notebook either, except for a xeroxed copy brought to me by a friend I never see anymore. Whatever I found interesting from that notebook, I scrawled into a notebook of my own nearly twenty years ago and then promptly lost the original.
Who was Das Defino? That’s a good question and not one I’m prepared to answer, even after spending a year writing and recording a suite of songs about him. The Das Defino I know is a phantom–made up of details from a transcription of a copied, junked, apparently rain-soaked, discarded notebook somewhere near Charlottesville, Virginia.
The contents of the notebook read like a diary. It was full of self-affirmations and childhood memories. It was an inventory of life-goals and a dream journal. It was definitely odd, but probably not any odder than what another personal notebook or journal might look and read like out of context. Some of it was like reading someone’s Google search history for a year.
Except this person’s name is Das Defino–a very musical name, one that is a lot of fun to say and sing. That sound worked its way into some equally discarded and unfinished musical ideas I’d been hoarding for the last few years, and a year later, I’ve got the Das Defino Song Suite–a story told in three songs.
I tried to put together a group of songs that would seamlessly lead into one another. I knew I wanted the project to have a grand sound, so I reached out to composer Joshua Stamper to arrange parts for string quartet. Josh is an amazing composer who’s worked with a number of great artists. His work is moving (and moving) and unpredictable. I knew he would write something special for this, and he did. Josh brought in musicians from the Dark Horse Orchestra of Philadelphia to play the parts. It was really something else to watch and listen to Michelle Bishop, Shelley Weiss, Petula Perdikis, and Daniel Delaney bring those parts to life.
I was fortunate to have the talents of Matt Magarahan and Tim Celfo again, on drums and bass. It’s a great reminder that your half-ideas can become something really special when you involve friends as talented and creative as those two.
The same goes for Joel Metzler who produced and mixed the music. Joel has likely spent more time with the music than I have, and so it seems, as it does with great producers and engineers, that this project is more ours than mine.
Philip Shaw Bova mastered the record from his studio in Ottawa, Canada. He’s worked on projects for Feist, The Stars, and Bahamas, and I was happy to have him apply the final polishing.
I hope you enjoy this collection. It’s available now at my Bandcamp site–and soon some of your other favorite listening spots.
Who was Das Defino? That’s a good question and not one I’m prepared to answer, even after spending a year writing and recording a suite of songs about him. The Das Defino I know is a phantom–made up of details from a transcription of a copied, junked, apparently rain-soaked, discarded notebook somewhere near Charlottesville, Virginia.
The contents of the notebook read like a diary. It was full of self-affirmations and childhood memories. It was an inventory of life-goals and a dream journal. It was definitely odd, but probably not any odder than what another personal notebook or journal might look and read like out of context. Some of it was like reading someone’s Google search history for a year.
Except this person’s name is Das Defino–a very musical name, one that is a lot of fun to say and sing. That sound worked its way into some equally discarded and unfinished musical ideas I’d been hoarding for the last few years, and a year later, I’ve got the Das Defino Song Suite–a story told in three songs.
I tried to put together a group of songs that would seamlessly lead into one another. I knew I wanted the project to have a grand sound, so I reached out to composer Joshua Stamper to arrange parts for string quartet. Josh is an amazing composer who’s worked with a number of great artists. His work is moving (and moving) and unpredictable. I knew he would write something special for this, and he did. Josh brought in musicians from the Dark Horse Orchestra of Philadelphia to play the parts. It was really something else to watch and listen to Michelle Bishop, Shelley Weiss, Petula Perdikis, and Daniel Delaney bring those parts to life.
I was fortunate to have the talents of Matt Magarahan and Tim Celfo again, on drums and bass. It’s a great reminder that your half-ideas can become something really special when you involve friends as talented and creative as those two.
The same goes for Joel Metzler who produced and mixed the music. Joel has likely spent more time with the music than I have, and so it seems, as it does with great producers and engineers, that this project is more ours than mine.
Philip Shaw Bova mastered the record from his studio in Ottawa, Canada. He’s worked on projects for Feist, The Stars, and Bahamas, and I was happy to have him apply the final polishing.
I hope you enjoy this collection. It’s available now at my Bandcamp site–and soon some of your other favorite listening spots.