“I Still Like Obama.”
The second single and video from the new album is “I Still Like Obama,” which premiered on Americana Highways!
“The Last Black Lives Matter Sign in the Neighborhood.”
NEW SINGLE + VIDEO: “The Last Black Lives Matter Sign in the Neighborhood” is out this Friday, April 12th. Remember when Black Lives Matter signs were everywhere? Where did they all go? First they were replaced with Ukrainian flags. Now there are Free Palestine signs. When do those come down and what will take their place? This is the first song released from the forthcoming new album: Part V in the “It Doesn’t Matter Why It Is, It Doesn’t Matter If It’s Wrong” series.
New album announcement!
I just finished the mixes for a new album! It is the fifth installment in the quadrennial series "It Doesn't Matter Why It Is, It Doesn't Matter If It's Wrong." For those of you who are here because of the bike content, I also make music. Most of the bike riding, in fact, is in service of making music (which is my job). I'm not going to create any new plastic in the manufacturing of this album so a great way to support its completion + release is to get on board over at Patreon for as little as $1-3 a month (or more?) -- you do the math! Everything I make will always be public because I make stuff for everybody, but however you choose to support my creations with your money is also always great. If you have energy to share in financial form, I will accept it and it will make me stronger. More to come!
Doing Stuff Without A Car - Episode 7: Going To A City Council Meeting (1/3).
Part 1 of a trilogy of episodes related to the Board of Appeals meeting at City Hall about the glorious Great Highway’s inevitable destiny as a public space. Local government rocks SO HARD. The views and opinions expressed in this program are those of singer/songcyclist John Elliott and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of Great Highway Park, San Francisco Recreation and Park Department, or San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency.
Down here at the end of the year 2023
Very early morning after a sweet last show of the year at the cozy Lost Church in San Francisco with friends R.O. Shapiro and Summer Shapiro. I woke up to pee and now I can’t fall back asleep so I thought: time to blog!
Blog as a verb. Those were the days.
I didn’t get home with my post show burrito until well after midnight. Had me feeling nostalgic for “the days.” That whole “the youth is wasted on the young” thing. I read a great piece that warned against wasting your 30s if you spend them trying to recapture the spirit of your 20s. The 30s are a unique and special and fleeting time all on their own. So are the 40s. And so on. I loved that. I’m 45 now and I love getting up and going to bed early. It was novel and strange to ride my bike home so late last night. The drunken sloppiness of the other burrito getters, the silence of the side streets, the serenity of the early AM. Real beauty there.
For a while — call it my 30s — I loved the summer and almost feared the winter. I was captive in an internal boom and bust cycle that mirrored the seasons. As the days got shorter, I knew the darkness was coming to eclipse the carefree cruise of July. But these days down here at the end of the year, I find myself grateful and relieved for winter. In my hibernation cocoon with people I love, books to read, shows to stream, and Japanese yams.
2023 was one helluva year in my little corner of the human experience. Losing our home in January – at first due to mold and then because of landlord incompetence and probably greed – set the tone of transition for all twelve months. Everything changed, then changed again. After such a tumultuous time, I am finding gratitude for the new roots we are growing on the other side of the park. It’s louder here, more the city than the fringes, and that has its blessings and challenges. I have a new bike and I am in love with it (thank you Scenic Routes for the inspiration, labor, and love).
Looking toward another turn of the calendar, the transitions will continue. Whatever it was to be a musician when I was 25 is not the same twenty years later. The entire industry has changed and been dismantled and cobbled back together again…sort of…but I’m talking more about how it feels inside. The personal aspect. The other day I was watching a band of younger people set up and play and I was taking in their whole vibe with the same detached wonder I felt riding home late last night. Something like: this was me, but it is not me anymore. And: it’s still happening, but I’m not a part of it anymore. “It” is youth? The energy of youth? The audacity? The arrogance? The ignorance? The joy! All of it, beautiful and wasteful. Nostalgia.
There are no shows on the calendar and I like that. One of the things I loved most about the peak pandemic shelter-in-place period was that there were no plans. Nothing was booked. I was fully present in my adult life for the first time ever. Usually, my future is planned months in advance with tours and travel. There was a time I loved that, but I’m feeling quite content looking at that blank slate. I have enough acorns for the winter and I’m content to pause and reaccess.
Another nice thing about 45 is I feel a lot less anxiety about my creativity and identity as an artist. I am comfortable with the ebbs and flows of inspiration and productivity. I have a new album nearly finished and a number of songs already written for the one after that. I know that production will continue. I love to perform and I know that will continue as well. For a number of reasons, far flung travel is going to continue to shift and evolve. “The grass is always greener where you water it” — have you heard that one? I’m thinking about my promises to not tour with cars and airplanes and how, despite many successes and behavioral changes, I continued to make exceptions as the world opened back up and performance opportunities materialized in Europe and on the other side of the US. This is a work in progress and even as I write it I’m equivocating in my mind (if a good offer comes in from far away…), but the intention is to keep it local and hyperlocal. Bike and train and transit adjacent spots. There are many corners of my little piece of the planet that I have not explored. I would love to do so in the next couple years without getting on an airplane or renting a car. Let’s put that out into the ether and see what bounces back.
Well, I’ve been blogging long enough now that the day is starting to brighten the edges of the curtains. I don’t think I’m going back to sleep tonight. I’ll make some coffee, turn on the Christmas tree lights, and see what today is going to be. Wishing you peace and coziness out there.
Live in Krefeld (with Gothic Reverb)
On February 3, 1898, the church council in Krefeld, Germany decided to build St. Anne's Church. After only two years of construction, the church was completed in July 1903. Due to the Second World War, the church was almost completely destroyed by a bombing raid on June 22, 1943. The high altar was miraculously not destroyed. The reconstruction of the church was then carried out and rededicated with the St. Annafest on July 23, 1950. Since January 1, 2014, St. Anna's Church has been the parish church of the newly founded parish "Most Holy Trinity." And on May 22, 2023...I performed in the church and this is a recording of that concert.
Please enjoy the organic gothic church reverb and blog-worthy unique set list that all the fan message boards are talking about! Bandcamp waives its revenue share today only so it’s a great day to purchase this or other recordings over there. Mastering of iPhone audience recording by Jonathan Kirchner. Ramona Bietenbeck took a bunch of beautiful photographs documenting the event and I couldn’t pick just one for the cover so I made this collage.
Today is Bandcamp Friday, during which artists receive 100% of the profits from their Bandcamp sales. In celebration of that and this new release (currently only on Bandcamp), I'm hosting a Listening Party! This is a first so we'll figure it out together, but basically at 5pm Pacific the album starts streaming at this link and we hang out in the chat together while it rolls? It's kind of like a Reddit AMA with music? It's whatever we want it to be! Come find out. :)
I’ve been stewing on some thoughts about live performance for awhile and really settling on this concept that a robust triangle is necessary: artist, audience, and venue. It takes a village. This performance was successful by any measure, largely due to Sebastian’s promotion and production efforts, Matthias’s organization and hosting, Heiko’s lights and sound, the gorgeous location and the natural sound in there, and the 150+ people who came and listened. This was a very special evening and a moment in time that happened. I want to share this recording to document it.
Here are some of my favorite photographs rom the evening. All are by Ramona Bietenbeck (@ramondonko on Instagram).
Audio Liner Notes!
Here are the very special audio liner notes to accompany the new album, After All This Time. It features voice memos, early demos, and alternative versions of the album's songs. Perhaps these recordings should remain unheard, but in the spirit of the journey being the destination and honoring the process and oversharing...here it is: me making my particular brand of song sausage. Warning! If you google "how the sausage is made," you get this: The process by which something is created or conducted away from public view. Typically refers to something that the average person would find unpleasant or unsavory, in the same way that making sausages might be off-putting to some.