I'VE TRIED SLEEPING

Exclusive Interview with ‘I’VE TRIED SLEEPING’

Charlie Edwards, also known by the stage name “I’ve Tried Sleeping,” began playing the classical piano at the age of 5. Later, he continued taking violin lessons up until the age of 16, when he unintentionally dropped his instrument. When he turned 17 years old, he bought his own guitar, and that is when it all began. I’ve Tried Sleeping broke from everything he had learned! However, he had no regrets about what he had done because he felt relieved while playing the guitar and had complete freedom to play however and whatever he pleased.

With Bob Dylan being the biggest influence, he was ripe before Dylan’s music forever changed his life. He has written a thousand songs, starved, played on the street, played to the crowd, survived band explosions, self-implosions, and have had his heart broken, dreams crushed and soul thinned all over the place chasing that perfection of Mr. Tambourine Man — and he wouldn’t trade a minute of it. Recently with the ages of experience under his belt he has released an eponymous album that highlights his musical prowess. Check out the self-titled album “I’ve Tried Sleeping” and the exclusive interview below:

1. Can you tell us a bit about where you come from and how it all got started?

Well, firstly I’d like to thank you for making this interview happen – really appreciate you tracking me down. And secondly, I’d like to thank YOU for reading this. I have absolutely loved big-sound rock ever since I was a little kid and I’m sure if you’re reading this, you must share this love also.

I grew up in the country in Southern California – an unusual thing to say these days as that part of the world has become so populated – and wandering around those quiet open spaces as a youngster, I developed a very active mind and internal self.

My parents were classical musicians on the side and often had friends over to play chamber music. I started classical piano at 5 then violin in youth symphonies until I was 16 or so. I’m so thankful that my parents created a rich and diverse musical environment for me as a young person. Iam so lucky to have had that.

They also were into the folk scene that came out of Boston and New York City in the mid-1960’s. So, I was very familiar with all of that amazing music – Pete Seeger and The Weavers, Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul & Mary, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan.

The classical music was all well and good, but I knew that I was a rocker when I was eight or nine years old. I remember clearly the first time I heard ELO’s ‘Don’t Bring Me Down’ on my bedside clock radio. It was pure heroin.

Over the next couple years, I started gathering rock vinyl at used shops. And soon had a collection of the best music ever made on this planet.

There was only one requirement to be a part of my collection, it needed to be heartfelt and it needed to rock.

So, no to Christopher Cross, yes to Aerosmith, no to Journey – and so on down the road. Loved all of that old Stones and Who, Floyd, Zeppelin and all the progressives, Yes, Tull, Genesis – mmm, I’ve always loved everything that Peter Gabriel has done.

When I was fourteen, my best friend’s dad took us to see ‘Kansas’ at the Great Western Forum in Los Angeles. That band turned that arena on its head that night and I knew for sure then that big rock was going to be a central part of my life somehow.

Yes, I did have tickets in my hand for that last Zep tour right when John Bonham died. Man oh man.

2. Did you have any formal training or are you self-taught?

When I was sixteen or so, on what should have been a forgettable day, I was practicing violin on a stone floor and reached out to turn a page of sheet music and lost hold of it. I can still remember this moment vividly in slow motion. I kicked the old violin up once with my knee as it was falling and then almost grabbed it – but it was just out of reach. It shattered. What a sound. What a moment.

For the next six months or so, I didn’t create any music and instead listened almost exclusively to Pink Floyd through headphones. This was cool, but an essential part of me was missing. I bought my first acoustic guitar when I was seventeen and it was love at first sight.

I taught myself how to play and the joyous rebellion against so many years of disciplined classical training was on.

I’ll never forget the freedom and exhilaration I felt musically at that time. I mean I could play LOUD and fast and shred and sweat and stomp around. Heaven. I still feel this way today.

3. Who were your first and strongest musical influences and why the name ‘I’VE TRIED SLEEPING’?

I’ve touched on this a bit already. I loved ALL of that amazing 70’s and early 80’s rock from both sides of the pond, but my number one without question has always been Bob Dylan.

In high school, I had gathered all of Dylan’s acoustic records and could play those songs on my guitar. But soon my mind was blown as ‘John Wesley Harding’ took me to ‘Highway 61’ all the way through ‘New Morning’ to ‘Blood On The Tracks’. Oh My f-ing God. It’s not fair. He’s like the triple-threat Hollywood actor who can act and dance and sing. Times ten.

So cross my heart, I’m not gushing over Bob, because it’s safe territory. His music just hit me like a freight train from the very beginning. “It takes rocks and gravel baby to make a solid road.” Writing such a volume of songs that are so damn perfect, with every word so right on target. He is hilarious. What an eye. What an editor. What a pioneer. How fearless and courageous. Mmmmm mmmm. What a profound impact he has had on my life.

While uploading to Spotify, I learned of five other Charlie Edwards acts out there not hurting anybody. Rather than go ‘Highlander’ on them, ‘I’ve Tried Sleeping’ was born. The name is pulled from a lyric on track two, the 9/11 conspiracy rocker, ‘Not Talking Squatch’:

I’ve tried sleeping with the wool pulled over my eyes
You can move on now there’s nothing behind the door

But there’s no relief your story just don’t add up
You can move on now there’s nothing behind the door

I’ve got questions is there anyone out there left to dial
You can move on now there’s nothing behind the door

If you’re going to lie to me
Please give me a story that in time I’ll be able to forget

4. What do you feel are the key elements in your music that should resonate with listeners, and how would you personally describe your sound?

Great question! I have always loved the form of the four-minute rock song. Some are a bit longer or shorter for sure, but they all in one way or another are verse/chorus, verse/chorus, some really cool third part, and then a repeating chorus end.

I think there are a number of strong parallels between a good rock song and stage magic. Each song derives its power by employing a ‘trick’ of some kind. If we were sitting across from each other around the kitchen table and I had an acoustic guitar in my lap, I could show you these tricks and I promise you, once I did – just like stage magic – the songs would lose their magical aura and come across as overly calculated and you would lose interest in them.

Each of the ten songs on this record employs a different trick or derives its power differently. This makes the record very exciting to listen to as you are never quite sure what is going to come next – compared to a country music record for example.

The record is written as a ten-song whole, meant to be listened to all the way through at very loud volume. It builds musically and thematically all the way to the end and will take you somewhere if you let it.

It is intentionally off-putting. It’s challenging to listen to because it is foreign and demanding of your attention. It is not bubble-gum pop that can be tuned out. Every word and note is carefully selected and placed.

If you can make it through the first listen, you’re on your way. On the next pass, you’ll probably like it a little more. By pass six or so, you’ll be hooked, and it will be all you want to listen to. It has depth.

As you listen to the tunes, you could easily write down twenty or more bands and artists that are being referenced or come to mind – I hear them – R.E.M., U2, STP, Police, Tom Petty, The Clash, Pixies, Pearl Jam, etc.

I have never intentionally tried to sound like anybody else, sometimes it just happens though.

5.  For most artists originality is first preceded by a phase of learning and often emulating others.  What was this like for you?  How would you describe your own development as an artist and music maker and the transition towards your own style which is known as ROCK?

Yeah, definitely I learned to sing and play on the acoustic guitar with the Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan chord books.  And then I learned all of the campfire standards - you know 'American Pie', Neil Young tunes. etc.

It's real leap as a player to jump from being a one-man Cat Stevens guy to playing rock and roll.  R.E.M. really helped me here. That band was magical and when 'Radio Free Europe' and 'Murmur' hit everyone in my circle stopped in their tracks and listened.  Their first two records of mumbly and suggestive acoustic rock paralleled what I was doing at that time - strummy, mid-tempo four piece bands singing about the politics of the day. The press reviews for my bands at that time all described the acts as R.E.M.-ish.  When R.E.M. released their third record 'Fables of The Reconstruction' and went electric with understandable and sensical lyrics I made that leap too and let go of my acoustic for a Strat and a Marshall.

I was listening to a lot indie at that time - bands like The Replacements, Violent Femmes, Bob Mould, Pixies, Minutemen.  I'd describe those next few years for me musically as playing very creative art rock.  Because I was a not a super awesome guitarist or singer I compensated by writing and performing experimental and original material that highlighted what I COULD do rather than revealed what I couldn't. The recordings from that period as I thrashed around trying to figure out who I was musically and as a person were lo-fi, high energy, and super fun.

I never really successfully wrote anything that rocked during that time I definitely pulled off some 'frantic' and 'chaotic' and 'cool' but no tunes that would make you drop what you were doing and headbang.

6. What’s your view on the role and function of music as political, cultural, spiritual, and/or social vehicles – and do you try and affront any of these themes in your work, or are you purely interested in music as an expression of technical artistry, personal narrative, and entertainment?

What an awesome question! I absolutely fall into the camp of the first list and not the “technical artistry, personal narrative, and entertainment” set – boo, hiss.

Am sure this may come across as overly righteous or big-headed – I don’t mean to be – but when I was a young person, it was very clear to me what an amazing and special gift this life is. Something not to be squandered. We get one shot at this bitch and we’re more or less free to pursue whatever we choose – God willing of course. So, I’ve jumped in as I’ve been able and invested my time and energy towards pushing the needle in the direction of positive and progressive change. I have always swung for the fences and had great ambition. It’s like that ‘Kansas’ concert, ‘don’t play the coffee shop, turn The Forum upside down’.

As I mentioned earlier, the popular music in my house as a kid was almost exclusively social and political activist folk. I loved the power and intensity of those Pete Seeger songs or ‘If I Had A Hammer’ or “Blowin’ In The Wind’. it has always been a part of my rock ‘Mission Impossible’ to follow in Harry Chapin’s footsteps.

As a songwriter, I can’t help but feel very strongly about the injustices and suffering that surrounds us. I write about it constantly.

When I was writing this record, Trump was going bananas, we were marching for social justice, and the pandemic was killing everyone and decimating the economy. At one point along the way, I remember that the record was comprised of five 10 minute topical/political prog-rock jams.

I have learned the hard way that topical songs of the day tend to not age well and become yesterday’s news overnight. So, day by day and song by song, I tried my best to replace the thematic ideas I had with more universal themes that might age better.

You can hear the fossil record from that time if you listen closely. Track 8, ‘Shaking This Can Up’ is a Trump song and track 9, ‘Build Something Golden’ is a sprawling epic clocking in at 9:25 and is about the pandemic and marching for social justice.
 

7. Do you feel that your music is giving you back just as much fulfillment as the amount of work you are putting into it or are you expecting something more, or different in the future?

I’ve never had any expectations with music.

Making music and making records is a part of me and always has been. I have to do it and I will continue to do it – I don’t really have a choice in this.

I am however seeing some new territory with this record that I didn’t see with my previous ones.

The great majority of people who have slowed down long enough to listen to it, absolutely love it. I agree of course, It’s the fucking bomb. So, it’s a little strange these days for people to tell me that my record resonated with them in one way or another rather than piling on with variations of ‘well, that sucked’ and ‘you suck’.

It definitely is the first one I’ve ever made that is not accompanied by apologies and excuses – ‘if I’d had more time’ or ‘if the drummer hadn’t quit’, etcetera. And even at this moment after listening to it a hundred times, I wouldn’t change a word or a note. That is an f-ing amazing thing to say.

I can’t make a better record. I’m going to make a different record, but this one is finished art and I’m so proud of it. Can’t imagine a more fulfilling experience.
 

8. Could you describe your creative processes? How do usually start, and go about shaping ideas into a completed song? Do you usually start with a tune, a beat, or a narrative in your head?

Songs are gifts from the sky that come to me most often in the form of an emotion that’s just beyond the tip of my tongue. A strong feeling that usually brings me to the edge of tears that words don’t describe easily.

When these feelings come to me, I now recognize how special they are and I work very hard to try and get my arms around them however I can when they show up.

They are topically wide-ranging and there is very little pattern to them. The disciplined craft part of all of this is to write every day and work to keep my channels, pipes, and receptors open to be in a position to receive these raw bits of inspiration.

It may be the young man who thinks everyone is cheering for him when in fact they are laughing at him or the person born without legs who gets prosthetics and wins the race — anything really, it doesn’t have to be so grand either, these bits can be very small moments taken from daily life that for one reason or another are particularly real or beautiful or illustrative of the human condition.

The next part is the sausage factory. There’s no substitute for the work here. Try this, try that, crank up the tempos, change keys, better melody lines. Record it, re-record it, drive around listening to it, throw it away, rescue it from the trash. On and on.

At some point along the way, I was unable to make it through performing each of the ten songs on this record because I was so overcome by the emotion of each one. This became the bar or standard for which tunes made the cut and which ones I threw back.
 

9. What has been the most difficult thing you’ve had to endure in your life or music career so far?

Hmmmm. I’m a recent stage 3 colo-rectal cancer survivor. Five surgeries, turned into a skeleton. I have horrific shitting stories to drop the mic at any campfire. That was so scary for my family. It’s crucial to me that I’m around for my wife and kids.

The big one before that was in the mental health arena – mania and anxiety. What a saga that was. I was going about my life and then one day started sleeping less and less – eight hours become six hours, then four, until I stopped sleeping. A few days later, I was completely out of my mind in a grandiose reality and was handcuffed, put into a straightjacket, shot up with rhino tranquilizer, and locked up for over a month.

I could easily fill a few books with all of those ‘Cuckoo’s Nest’ stories. At one point along the way, I went to court versus the State of California for my sanity, chose to defend myself, and lost. Now, hands please, how many of you can say that?

When I was released from that cruel dump. I wasn’t instructed to take any medication and within two weeks was back for an even longer tour.

Then years of being mis-diagnosed as bipolar (which I am not) and mis-medicated into a stupor. I was a drooling idiot unable to read or think or play music. Then if that wasn’t bad enough, I was clobbered by debilitating and at times bedridden anxiety.

Eventually Dr. Awesome arrived, recognized my unconscionable treatment, dialed in the meds, six years of talk therapy and I was ‘all better’.

Today I regularly council people as they move through their mental health and cancer journeys.

Track six on the record, ‘Some Kind of Mother’ is a rally song for people courageously battling the demons in their heads.
 

10. On the contrary, what would you consider a successful, proud or significant point in your life or music career so far?

This question is a bit of a softball for me.

I wrote this record from the cancer bed and made a commitment that if I ever got the chance to record it, I would make it count.

I did not cut any corners at any stage of this project. It is a beautiful record and the high-water mark of my musical career.

11. With social media having a heavy impact on our lives and the music business in general, how do you handle criticism, haters, and/or naysayers in general? Is it something you pay attention to, or simply ignore?

There sure is an abundance of haters out there. Especially in these challenging post-pandemic times. Here in the States, all the Trump-fueled divisiveness only poured gas on that fire.

It is such an unnecessarily toxic environment for the young and developing artists who dare stick their creative heads above ground for a moment only to be smashed like ‘Whac-A-Mole’.

When I released the first track on this record to the streaming platforms, it was met with a lot of resistance because it wasn’t auto-tuned Justin Bieber bullshit – ‘wait, real players playing real instruments, to a song with real lyrics – what is this? Are you some kind of dinosaur? I hate it.’

I’ve been playing guitar, singing, performing, and recording for decades. I’d pay more attention to the haters if they were musicians too – because of course, we musicians are lovers.

There is great power, shock value, control, and attention derived from hate, anger, negativity, and violence – but the good guys always do win. I choose to always head towards the light.

That being said, I’ve got to run. Take care of yourselves. Thanks for reading this – peace!

- Illustrate Magazine, 10/25/22

Interview: I've Tried Sleeping - Some Kind Of Mother

I've Tried Sleeping was born into a classical music home. Piano at 5, then violin in the youth symphony until he was 17. All that was well and good, but his passion beginning when he was about 10 was big sound rock. This music moved him much differently than it did the people around him. I've Tried Sleeping would get the chills spinning those great vinyl records in his bedroom after school. It was a magical time. He dropped the violin and taught himself how to play guitar when he was 17.

Hey I've Tried Sleeping, super nice to have the chance to chat with you. What first got you into music?

Thanks so much for making this interview happen! Hmmm, let's see.

I grew up in a musical house in Southern California. My parents were pretty straight and played classical music on the side. No jamming or improvising, lots of sheet music. Friends would come over frequently to play chamber music. Classical music was spinning on vinyl every night. When my folks let their hair down, they played the folk music that came out of Boston and New York in the mid-1960's -- as well as the body of work that preceded that movement. So, I was very familiar with the music of Pete Seeger and the Weavers, The Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul, and Mary, Joan Baez, and the young Bob Dylan.

I am so thankful and fortunate that my parents created this rich musical environment for me as a young person as music has been such a gift to me in my life.

I studied classical piano at five years old, then violin in youth symphony until I was 17, then a musicmaking-less year in which I cranked Pink Floyd almost exclusively for a year. When I was seventeen, I bought my first acoustic guitar and it was love at first sight.

I still remember when I was nine years old and first heard E.L.O.'s 'Don't Bring Me Down' on my new clock radio. The classical music was all well and good, Sinatra, Beach Boys, John Denver - but all of that music was kicked to the curb by the size, intensity and low end of Van Halen's 'Running with the Devil'. I'm a rocker and I knew it really, really early.

Before long, I had all of the Stones, Who, and Beatles records - which naturally led to Aerosmith, Floyd, Zep, Rush. I went to see 'Kansas' at The Forum in Los Angeles when I was thirteen and witnessed them blow the roof off of that building. I knew then that big-sound rock music was going to be a central part of my life somehow.

In high school I learned to play acoustic guitar around the campfire - all of those 'American Pie' standards. I loved the Grateful Dead and learned to play all of their songs and am as big a Dylan fan as there is and at one point had all of his records and could play all of those songs from memory.

My first bands were super R.E.M.-ish - strummy and mumbly. When they went electric on their third record, I followed and ditched the acoustic for a Strat and a Marshall. I busked all the time and learned a ton from that. I even played on the street in Athens, Greece for a summer. Next, I got into lots of alternative and indie - bands like the Pixies, Minutemen, Replacements, Violent Femmes, Janes Addiction -- the ladies too, Liz Phair, Tori Amos, Aimee Mann. Over those next years, I made a lot of uneven, lo-fi, fun and eclectic records. I'd take bands right to the brink of a record deal and then they would blow up and I would start again. I moved around the country a lot in those years trying to make it happen. Scratch that, 'making it happen'.

How do you balance your time in the studio with other commitments such as a part-time job, family, admin?

I went to get a colonoscopy and came out of the stupor with a bunch people standing over me and crying. Stage three colo-rectal cancer, two years, five surgeries, skeletal, chemo, radiation - the full-on cancer journey. Then, cancer-free, more or less as if it never happened. Cancer is such an indiscriminate shark of a killer. I met so many courageous and positive people in the cancer community fighting the fight who are not with us anymore. I wrote this record from the cancer bed with the resolve that if I ever was given the chance to record it, I would make it count.

I was bumbling my way through life when I unexpectedly met the most beautiful woman in the world and for some reason, she decided to stay with me. She knew that making this record was very important to me in all sorts of ways and was very supportive of it. So, I really appreciate the sacrifices she made to allow me the time to scream unfinished lyrics in the closet and stomp, stomp, stomp my way through the songs in the basement. And for agreeing that shelling out our hard-earned cash was a great idea - yes, big sound rock records are expensive to make.

This record was more or less two and half years in the making - a long time. But it is the fucking bomb. I absolutely love every word and note on it and wouldn't change a thing. That is an amazing thing for a musician to say. I certainly have never said it before. So, now that I am on the press tour and am spending my energy promoting the record, I don't really mind this work. In the past, I really didn't care for it and wanted to spend all of my time and energy in the studio writing and recording - but because I am so pleased with how this record came out, I would love it if the world would listen. It is full of energy.

Your latest song is 'Some Kind Of Mother'. Can you tell us more about the making of it and if there were any unusual things happening during the process?

I made a solemn vow as a young person - I think I was twenty-one - to only play my own material. To live or die trying as a musician with my own tunes rather than play Beatles covers and throw in one of mine after 'Hey Jude'. So, not surprisingly it's been a hustle.

One sunny day when I was twenty-seven, I slept six hours instead of eight. The next night, four hours. Then, two. Then two or three days of zero. My mind was racing and burning, churning with grandiose thoughts. Yep, a full-blown manic episode. Sounds fun but it really isn't, it hurts. They say that I was genetically pre-dispositioned for this event and that the years of hustling as a broke-ass rock musician had nothing to do with it. Ok. A number of strong men eventually showed up at the door, put me in a straightjacket and handcuffs, and took me by ambulance to the funny farm. I was there for six or eight weeks shot up with rhino tranquilizer. There was a moment where my sanity was on trial - me against the state of California. I elected to defend myself and lost. Hands please, how many of you can say that?

When I was released, I was not instructed to take any medication so a few weeks later, I was back at the farm. One night, I scaled the fence in my pajamas, old women peeing on me, lots of stories.

I was then mis-and overly-medicated into a drooling idiot for a few years. During this time, I was unable to read, write, sing, think, taste, see colors - awful. I went to vocational school to learn how to repair computers because that was the best I was going to be able to do.

Then Dr. Awesome appeared, recognized my unconscionable treatment, dialed in my meds and over a two-day period, all of my faculties and senses returned. Total rebirth. Unbelievable.

Just then, I was t-boned with horrific and at times, bedridden anxiety. I think this anxiety resulted from the trauma I'd suffered from the mania - what was to prevent it from happening again?

After six years of talk therapy and all of that accompanying hard work inside my head - I was back to 'normal'.

Today, I am an advocate for all things mental health. I regularly council people in this area and am very comfortable sharing my experiences here with others. It's a shame that mental health issues still have so much shame and stigma attached to them.

The track, 'Some Kind of Mother', is a bit of a Frankenstein of a number of my good friends out there on the front lines in their daily battle with depression.

What is one message you would give to your fans?

What a great question! Hmmm. I mean what if I asked you that? I'd have to start with all of the rated G, cliches - but I have to.

1. Keep your feet moving
2. Don't give a shit about what other people think about you
3. Listen to and welcome all feedback
4. Head towards the light
5. Life is precious, don't waste it
6. Live for yourself, not to please someone else
7. Be true
8. Give it everything you've got
9. Don't be an asshole, a puss, or a douche
10. Don't accept the shitty music being served to you, send it back and listen to the good shit
11. Do the work

What would you be doing right now, if it wasn’t for your music career?

Music is and has always been the best part of my life. I mean no offense or disrespect to the other components - my beautiful family, friends, etc. But if I were a rose bush, my music would definitely be the flowers and blossoms. It has been a part of me from the beginning and will be with me until the end.

I've never been content just noodling around with song ideas or guitar parts in the basement. Music has always been a large-scale mission impossible for me. It's like that 'Kansas' concert I mentioned earlier. I don't want to play the coffee shop, I want to play the arena - with lasers, thank you. I don't really care if you have some psycho-description cued up for my condition, I want to rock and I always have.

To answer your question, without the music component of my life - gosh, that would be dreary - another day in the cubicle.

How do you know when a work is finished?

Songs come to me most often as an emotion that is just beyond the tip of my tongue - just beyond words. A strong feeling that I've never felt before, charged with energy, with a beauty of some sort at its core. They are such a gift and by now I recognize this and when they come, I try to drop everything and get my arms around that emotion and capture it before it dissipates.

Next is a lot of sausage-making as the emotion is translated into a song. There is no excuse for this hard work. Play it, record it, listen to it. Can it be better? Were you convinced? Did the song move you?

I was unable to make it through playing each of the ten songs on this record at some point because I was so overcome emotionally by that song's power that I had to stop. This become the bar for what songs made the cut and which songs I threw back.

I know that a song is finished when I can sing and play it in a complete trance - with the world tuned out - and be completely present and sincere in every word I am singing. And then listen back to this recording and clearly feel that distilled emotion from the song's origin.

Can you write what was your best performance in your career? How do you remember it?

This is a fun question to answer as it's triggering lots of memories of so many different performances over the years - all those people and places - along with the drama of making it there on time, sound checking, and the setup and teardown. Every show is like a birth story. It's amazing they come off at all.

I have a little bit of that James Brown thing where every performance is perfect in its own way. It's art. It happened, move on. I also always believe that my best performance is yet to come.

Just to say it, there never was that show in the stadium with Peter Gabriel where the Queen showed up, but I have played some great ones. Packed rooms and empty ones. Shows where there was a real and magical connection with the audience. Ones that were really stiff and didn't come off. Every sort of technical problem and playing through when sick or injured or dealing with something heavy. It's fun to be the opening act and upstage the headline.

Every show is the realization of a dream because at some point prior, there were two people in a room with some attitude - without a band, tunes, rehearsal space - all of it. There's just so much hard work that gets put in before stepping on any stage.

I guess I'm really not answering your question. The show that keeps popping into my mind was in Ann Arbor, Michigan when I was twenty-four. I had a rocking three-piece long-haired band and we were playing a small packed club upstairs with like a hundred and fifty people squeezed into this brick-walled rectangular room. We went on at midnight after two or three bands had whipped the crowd up. I remember there was this big drunk, shirtless, mosh-pit guy who was right in front of the stage screaming at me to play something with "gristle". So, I adjusted the set list and tried to rock it harder for this guy. After each song, the guy was back in my face yelling, "more gristle!", "more gristle!!" All night, I kept trying but I wasn't able to give this guy what he was looking for.

Do you have a mentor or coach?

I have collected a handful of wonderful muses over the years. These are the people whose feedback and opinion I really listen to when I send them my new material.

One of them is Rick Chapman who was my housemate at school and is now a world-renowned photographer (please look him up, his work will blow you away -- www.rickchapman.com). He was involved in this record from its infancy and after listening to it for months, sent over his gorgeous and suggestive cover art. When Rick tells me that a song is not reaching him or when I have one on the chopping block that he makes a case for me to keep, I listen closely.

Another is my childhood best friend, Rex Cook. Rex is an amazing artist in many disciplines and is also a rocking bass player and gifted songwriter. I've played in a few bands and had so many incredible adventures with Rex over the years. He was instrumental in turning me on to so many of my favorite musical acts - particularly Peter Gabriel, STP, and Jane's Addiction, (please check out his work - www.avatarlabs.com). Rex has a keen awareness of what rocks and what is soulful, from what is not. I love when I send rough tunes over to Rex and he tells me he likes them. With that endorsement, I know I'm on the right track.

Who is your favourite musician?

I'm a Bob Dylan-head to the core. No one else comes close. I have been since 1982. And I promise I'm not picking Bob because its the safest choice imaginable. He is a once in a millennium talent. He hasn't written a stray word in fifty years. His music rips my heart out with its beauty and power. What an inspiration he has been to me. We are so lucky to have him.

What are your plans for the future?

I want to do a big-ass arena tour like Roger Waters with lasers and multimedia. And bring this act to your city and burn it down properly with you. I don't know if that will happen with this record. I hope so. It would be really fun to open up these tunes and jam them out. They all are very visual and could easily be assembled into a story.

I will make the next record. It will rock. Then the next one, which will also rock. At some point, with all of these rocking records, the big-ass arena tour will happen.

- Kamil Bobin, Lost In The Manor, 11/4/22