After spending years playing local basement shows with a cheap knock-off under a number of monikers, it wasn’t until a bike accident in 2012 that the Chicago guitar virtuoso and singer-songwriter gave up his day jobs, taking on the rock club circuit.
That brings us to the present, and his latest album Primrose Green. Heading into the studio without writing completed, bits of the lyrics were improvised into full songs on the fly. Inspiration for the tracks come from many different places. The title track was born on a bleak St. Patrick’s Day spent in Oxford, Mississippi, another in a dressing room in upstate New York.
A forgotten roadside hotel in Tennessee yielded one song, while a five-day stretch in Austin, mostly staying on a tile floor with no blanket in a room barely large enough for one provided most of the rest of the lyrics.
