Good Life Project - [BONUS] Kaki King | Music in May

Episode Date: May 23, 2019

Hailed by Rolling Stone as “a genre unto herself,” Brooklyn-based composer and guitar phenom (http://www.kakiking.com/), Kaki King, has released 9 albums, performed on every continent, presented at the Kennedy Center, MoMA, LACMA and The Met and created music for film and TV. In 2015 Kaki launched "The Neck is a Bridge to the Body," a groundbreaking multi-media performance integrating guitar and projected imagery synced to the music. What's even more incredible, Kaki King never intended for music to be her career. Her early years were spent playing in bands as a drummer, just for fun. And, her "big break" came in a way she never saw coming, or even tried to make happen. And, as with all of our Music in May episodes, be sure to stay until the end to hear Kaki perform live in-studio.-------------Have you discovered your Sparketype yet? Take the Sparketype Assessment™ now. IT’S FREE (https://sparketype.com/) and takes about 7-minutes to complete. At a minimum, it’ll open your eyes in a big way. It also just might change your life.If you enjoyed the show, please share it with a friend. Thank you to our super cool brand partners. If you like the show, please support them - they help make the podcast possible. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

And I am so excited to continue our month of music with you. My guest this week is Kagi King. She is, how do you even describe her? A guitar phenom, somebody who is a musician who has pushed the boundaries of any definition, any template, any sort of box that you can imagine trying to describe music, especially focused on playing guitar and a variety of instruments with strings. She grew up in Atlanta, sort of a self-described, extremely anxious and awkward kid, and turned to music at a really young age, primarily though as a drummer, as a way to kind of escape

and feel good and get out of her head. It was never supposed to be her career though. That was never her intention until she found herself in New York at NYU, again, studying something entirely different, but an experience after that would change things and set her on a course that nobody ever really, especially not her, saw coming. It's sort of like the dream story that you hear about, but this was her reality. And she has continued to grow and evolve and create stunning music in the world since then. In today's conversation, we explore this eye-opening, powerful, moving journey. So excited to share. And as always, be absolutely sure to stay tuned to the end where

Kaki actually arrived with her own beautiful guitar that she normally plays, but decided to actually grab the guitar that I made at the end and play that for us. And it was so magical to actually to hear what came out of her. So excited to share it with you. I'm Jonathan Fields going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot him. We need him. Y'all need a pilot.

Flight risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest charging Apple Watch, getting you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest-charging Apple Watch, getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes.

The Apple Watch Series X, available for the first time in glossy jet-black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone Xs are later required. Charge time and actual results will vary. What you guys don't know is in this studio, we have a couple of guitars hanging here. And one of them is a guitar that you guys have probably heard me talk about in the past, which I made last year. And I kind of walked in and immediately grabbed it off the wall and started playing. And I'm like, oh, my God, this guitar has never sounded that gorgeous and never will sound that gorgeous again.

So thank you for blessing that instrument right off the bat. Well, you're very welcome. I love the simplicity. The thing that drew me at first was the ultra simple rosette. Yeah. Like it couldn't be more simple. Yeah. You've sort of hinted at a circle, which I love.

I like, and it's a bit of a minimal thing until you get up towards like the head and then it gets a little bit weird. Well, the wood is doing the work for itself. Yeah. So what you're doing over the last couple of years especially is really fascinating to me, interviewing, or bringing a lot of visual elements into your work as well. I want to take a big step back in time,

because your approach to music, your approach to creativity seems so distinct, and your voice is so clear and original and different, which always makes me want to know, like, when did you really start to explore, well, first music and then develop into your voice? So if we take a step back, you grew up in Atlanta or outside of Atlanta? Yeah, Atlanta, Georgia. In the city or just like right outside? I mean, out, you know. Or is it all kind of like a blend of- At the time, it was either the city city or the estates around it. And I was unfortunate enough to grow up in a place where there was no sidewalks.

It was very beautiful, very much in the woods, but very disconnected, which I think I've lived half my life there and now half my life in New York. So I've reconnected myself. What kind of kid were you? What kind of kid was I? I was lived half my life there and now half my life in New York. So I've reconnected myself. What kind of kid were you? What kind of kid was I? I was a tomboy. I was a – so I sort of started off tomboy, morphed into hideously insecure, awkward, closeted gay teen that – I mean, was, it was, and I know that this is such a common story and I'm definitely not a, I'm not a unicorn, but it was painful. It was just painful being in my skin. And I developed like really serious chronic anxiety and I had terrible

trouble. I mean, not making friends, but connecting with people, just hold like understanding what humans were. But I was, yeah, it was bad. It was bad being a teenager, but I had music. Yeah. I mean, I'm curious also, I mean, so you were awkward. You're also, you're growing up, you're gay, you're in the South. When was this around? Like, this is in the mid nineties. Okay. So it's interesting because it was almost like people were talking about being gay and what that was, as opposed to people just not talking about it. Yeah. So, and I don't know which was worse, sort of hearing what people had to say about gay people versus hearing nothing, which may have been a little simpler. But whatever. I mean, we all, I mean, you know, life's not perfect.

But it was, I think it was just a waiting game of like, when can I leave this place? Well, of course, now you go to Atlanta and it's like this amazing. Right, it's like this hot scene. Hot scene with like all this great music and culture. It's diverse and it's fun, yeah. So it really, I think a lot of it, again, you know,

it's like wherever you go, there you are. I mean, that was part of me being disgusted by my own self. And that would have happened anywhere. Yeah. What was the awkwardness about? I mean, was it more generalized than that? Or was it just the fact that every kid is awkward? It sounds like what you're describing is more than.

It was a universal awkwardness. And it was a kind of having no idea where I sat, like where my place was and having nothing that I liked or was good at except music, which was not a thing that a lot of girls did. But that didn't, that wasn't the issue because I wasn't, I was certainly sort of more on the wavelength of boys. It was just a, it was just a get me out of here kind of feeling. And which again, I think is super, is very common and really normal. And I have grown in my wisdom now to really appreciate that and to appreciate those years of thinking that I was special and that I was also like the biggest piece of crap at the center of

the universe, that kind of thinking, you know, just the self-obsession and self-hatred wrapped around itself to now I'm the opposite of that. Now I'm very not interested in Khaki King. I'm very interested in everything else that is not me. And it's incredibly relieving. Yeah. I mean, what role did music play in that transition? Well, music was the, you know, again, it was sort of this, it was this place at the intersection of everything that I loved and everything I was good at. And it did form the basis of my social life in the absence of a sort of normal, healthy social life where you speak to people. Oh, that.

Yeah, like that, that wasn't me. But I did have, I played in bands and I hung out with guys that smoked cigarettes and, you know, and I played gigs and I was playing drums and bass and guitar was something that I grew up playing, but it started to take this back seat. So socially, thank God I was saved by the fact that I could, you know, I had a minivan, I had a place to rehearse in my garage and I had amps and drums. And so it was like, everyone could come over and we could, and I could make a band. And that was what, that was basically what I spent most of my time doing. And then the guitar as an instrument in the formulation that I've created out of it now was something that became more and more like my private world.

So there was this sort of saved by music in the social world and then saved by music in this existential fear and panic and terrifying anxiety where music just made it go away. It just went away. My brain just couldn't have – it just went away my brain just couldn't have it didn't have enough room for thought and so that was the genesis of my uh not some of my my guitar technique but but definitely the place where i started writing music because i felt writing was very important i always admired from a very early age i admired novelists playwrights i admired directors i. I admired, you know, people that wrote symphonies. I was always into the, not the performance of the thing, but the genesis.

Like what is who, you know, where does the thought begin? Where's the spark? I thought that writing on an instrument or for music was the highest goal. Yeah. Were you actually, did you journal? Did you write just independently also? Not really. No, I didn't. I did not. I wasn't interested in those thoughts. Yeah. Well, it's almost like,

it sounds like you had your form of expression. Like you had your go-to thing to get whatever you needed out, out. And that was music. And I think for a lot of people, like the act of journaling is their thing. Yes, for sure. That's where they like,

they just, it all comes out of them. I mean, I had a lot of friends that kept this funny. I have a journal from a friend from high school that's sitting on a desk. It needs to be mailed to him. Oh, that's so funny. He's a moving target, but it kind of came, you know, cleaning out my parents' closets and whatnot of, you know, eventually there'll be no more of me left at the family home. Yeah, but, and, you know, it was sort of a mix of like his song lyrics, other people's song lyrics, some Soundgarden, some Stone Temple Pilots, and thoughts and ruminations on life, which I never really like I was uninterested in my thoughts, ruminations on life.

They weren't even they weren't even sort of goth cool. They were just pathetic. I was much more interested in feeling and like when I, you know, learned very early on, I mean, this is something I, you know, was intuitive for me, but I kept reading these quotes that, you know, music is the language of emotion. And I thought, that is it. I need a language of emotion. And that is why writing music was so important to me. But again, it was not something that I shared with other people. It was just something I did on my own.

Yeah. That was like your internal processing. It was like your sacred space almost. Drums. Yeah. That was like your internal processing. It was like your sacred space almost. Yeah. Yeah. Drums. Yeah. Right?

Interesting. Because you go from a kid who's sort of like withdrawn, it sounds like, in a lot of ways, and drums is about the most forward-facing, aggressive. It is forward-facing and aggressive. Although it sits back in the band. But that's exactly right. Got it. Got it. Got it.

So like, for instance, you know, who's the drummer for, who's the drummer for Coldplay? I couldn't tell. You don't know that guy. That guy's a millionaire. Yeah. Yeah. Like that guy's a millionaire and he gets to play in one of the biggest rock bands on earth and no one knows his name. So I, I definitely, I think I still to this day, I'd still, if someone came along and wanted to hire me for their, to be their drummer in their arena rock band, I would totally go for it. I'm not even joking. So I would, I'd already been playing guitar. And at nine, I think, I think fourth grade, orchestra and band started in elementary school. And my mother and my father said,

well, Kaki can play guitar. And they said, well, we don't have any music. We literally don't have anything we could give to her. But why doesn't she just play drums? Because that's, guitar's a rhythm instrument, so it'll be a rhythm instrument anyway. So yeah, so all of my musical education comes through playing percussion in junior, in elementary school and middle school and high school marching band. Yeah. And so interesting also because you can, I mean, your guitar playing is so clearly influenced by your percussion background. Yeah.

You know. And in ways that you don't even realize. Like how? Well, the left hand will be doing something completely separate from the right hand and that will interlock the rhythm. So something relatively slow and easy on the left, something relatively slow and easy on the right. And this can be purely melodic, purely, you know, something that sounds very open and pretty. But the fact is that the left hand and the right hand are just doing a pitter patter and I'm doing one after the other. So left, right, left, left, right. And so when you speed that up, it sounds extremely fast. I'll play it on your guitar later.

But it, but it comes from drumming. It's informed by drumming. It just doesn't, is not as obvious as some of the other things I do where I literally am tapping on the guitar, hitting the guitar. Yeah, that's so cool. I mean, it's, I would almost imagine you can hear stuff because that's obviously it's coming through you, but it's like, there's a, there's an awareness of what's happening and why it's happening. How's this conversation going on between like both hands and something happening in the middle in a way where people outside, they just know there's something magical happening, but they don't quite, they're not able to deconstruct sort of like the more nuanced experience of it. That's okay. Yeah. You know, it's all a means to an end. I mean, if the end result sounds lame or doesn't touch you, your husband sort of the chicken McNugget

is that Khaki King plays guitar in a weird technique way. But the truth is that Khaki King writes songs. I'm referring to myself in the third person now. It just sounds pretty obnoxious, but know that I write songs using a technique to further the composition, to create something that you haven't heard before. Yeah. So I agree with that. So you're playing in bands, you're playing drums, finding, I mean, not just escape, but it sounds like therapy through music also. Yeah, definitely. I mean, is it helping you essentially discover your identity and reclaim? Because it sounds like you went from a really angsty place.

By the time you actually left high school, were you out of that angsty place or were you just kind of like, okay, at least I have something to hang on to? I was definitely getting there. It was a lot. It sort of got worse before it got better. Yeah. How so? I think that I had a very, well, I'm never going to really, I've been through this process of unwrapping what happened to me.

But I came to New York City with an upset stomach at age 19 that didn't stop being upset until age 20. It was, it was a, I'm not, I don't really know what it was. If it's just that I had a very bad general anxiety disorder that just plagued me. If it was that I had never been, you know, being on my own for the first time, I certainly wasn't, well, no, I was definitely coddled by, you know, living in the suburbs and just not having this, you know, I think I just didn't have any experience with other people, like zero. And being able to express my sexuality for the first time, which is, imagine if you've just, if you've never had that, you've never been able to even utter the words and suddenly here they are and they're coming out and,

and you're able to be yourself for the first time. It's traumatic. It's horrible. It's difficult. And so I think that, yeah, I think that, but again, there was guitar, like there are songs on my very first album that were written during that time, during that first year in New York. So I will never really be able to tell anyone or know or go back 20 years and do a full body blood workup of what the hell, whatever, you know, mineral I was missing. But something was missing and I slowly got it. And I don't know how to be instructive other than to say that I just, I took, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and I didn't give up and I kept playing music. Yeah. So, I mean, so, so you weren't actually even out until you came to New York, right?

So simultaneously you leave home, you come out, you go from Atlanta, kind of suburbanist Atlanta, it sounds like, to like the biggest, fastest city on the planet. And you're reclaiming a sense of guitar also, which is like a massive amount of disruption in a really short amount of time, which would throw anybody. But it sounds like also it unleashed a lot for you to a certain extent. Yeah, it did. And I think by sophomore year of college, I was attending NYU. I was just a different person. And I think it took that year of physical shock and allowing myself to be who I was to, it just took what it took. I remember there was a girl on my floor freshman year who, and this does happen a lot. This happens to a lot of people. And I think that it's happened to you. Don't be ashamed of it. Some people move away from home and they cannot even even a few hours away. And it's just it's too much. And people do return because, you know, just such a different setting can throw people off. And I remember there was a girl on my floor who did, was, was struggling a lot and she moved back home to California. And I was like, well, that's just not going to be me. I'm just, I'm just going to, just going to, you know, I'm, I'm, I'm going to tough it out. And, um, and I did. Yeah. Yeah. Um, so guitar in that

first year also, I mean, it sounds like, was that when you really made a shift from saying, okay, so that's kind of like my central thing? No, I was still playing drums. I didn't realize that. Yeah, I played. Around the city or? Yeah, I was playing, again, like I was playing drums and bass in everyone's band. Right. In my sophomore year, I actually gained, so the, so you know colleges used to have

typing rooms because you have to go do your papers and you didn't have a typewriter if you do a typing room so none of by you know the late 90s none of the typing rooms existed so I got the key like the one and only key to the typing room in my dorm and I moved my drums right on in and I set my band was rehearsing and it was like

it was so funny because I was in several bands at the time and no one ever questioned whether or not we should be making all of this noise. You'd come in to the dorm and hear this raucous noise coming from the basement. And no one ever went like, I just think no one had that job. Yeah, no, I was still doing what I knew to do. I was still doing the thing that I knew that connected me to other people, which was, how can I play in your band? How can I support you, your vision without having this pressure to make it or, you know, I didn't, I certainly wasn't interested in, you know, realizing my vision. Yeah. I mean, in your mind at that time, right? Because you're at NYU, so you're studying

something else. I'm studying something. You're not there for music. No, no. I'm not there for music. I was there to read and get good at crossword puzzles, apparently. Because that's just about the only thing that came out of it. Yeah. So in your mind, even when you're in college, you have the room, you're playing with your band. Is the idea of this actually ever becoming your livelihood or your life or your

profession anywhere? Is there like a seed of that even in your mind? Well, again, it was like, I just want to be the arena rock, you know, goddess drummer that everyone forgets their name. Like I did not, in terms of going through the actions, I couldn't even go through the ordeal of making a flyer for a gig. I mean, that was too much for me. It was not an ambition. And I think it was like, we all have our sort of dreams and fantasies of something that's interesting to us. But the steps to get there along the way seemed so intangible to me that I couldn't, I just, I wasn't going to be able to put them together in my own head. And as it turns out out in my own career, I didn't even really put the

steps together. They were sort of put together for me, which was, which I think is interesting. So how did that happen? Well, we can jump to 9-11 and my graduation date. So I had summer semester and I was due to graduate September 12th, September of 2001. And so that didn't happen because the city was on fire. And the months that followed 9-11, if you were in New York, were very difficult and confusing to say the least. And I had just moved to Brooklyn. I just sort of like, you know, college was behind me and the unknown was in front of me. But instead of the thing that I wanted to do, which was just, you know, get a kind of steady job, figure out what I want to do and probably go to grad school, I was left like, who knows what this world is? What is this universe

we live in now? Again, it's funny because the separation from people became too much for me. And at some point I thought, okay. Also, I was running out of cash. So I thought if I go and play in the subway, at least I'll see friendly faces. Like it really was that simple. So I went to the subway and I dragged this portable amp that I could recharge. And I started to play some music and the reaction that people had to that was so profound because subway music is part of New York

City culture. It feels, you know, whether you like it or not, at least it feels lively and normal and human and whether you're into the music or not, at least it's there. Its presence, its absence is worse, much worse than its presence. So people were not just appreciative of what I was doing as a guitar player. They're just appreciative of my existence, the fact that I was standing on a subway platform, making them feel okay. And again, this wasn't a week after, this was months after because everything was so torn up. And I think the trauma to heal took, I mean, it still affects we're still, it's still, it still affects people. And from that, people would often say, do you have a CD I can buy? Keep in mind, 20 years ago, people wanted to. The CD is this archaic format that, you know, spins around.

We'll include an illustration of it in the show notes. Yeah, exactly. It just, you know, it's circular. So I thought, well, this is great. If I can make $10 every time someone asks me this, then I'll be doing really well. So I took some time to record all the guitar demos that I had been working on into a CD. And I pressed it myself and I did the artwork myself. And I just, you know, it was like printing it on my home printer. And, you know, I can continue the story because it's a pretty good one. But like that is how every, that's the beginning of everything.

So keep going with this. Well, the CD itself literally physically made its way without anything to do with me from a friend to a who knows who to the person that booked the old knitting factory, which is the greatest club of all time in Tribeca, which is no longer there. And it had four, at the time, it had four different stages. And the tiniest room was the tap room. And it was basically a bar with a lot of great beer. And it always had, there was always, they always wanted to have something free. And this was the craziest thing. This was a paid gig. So they called me or emailed me or something and said, hey, we got your, I mean, this is like Hollywood, okay? I can't tell you how little I had to do with making any of this happen, but, so just wait. So they asked me to play there, do a residency for a month, which is what they would do with people. And they would pay me a hundred dollars

a night. And I would even get bar receipts if the bar did really well. And I would sell CDs. So I would make a few hundred bucks, which was like a, I mean, dream come true. And at this legendary venue. At this legendary venue. Yeah. And then, so I played there. I did that, I think I did that two months straight. And during that two months, someone bought the CD from me and emailed me and said, I have a management and record label, like management company and record label. And we'd really like to work with you. And that man managed me for the next 12 years. That's the story that never happens. It's never, it never happens. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I feel terrible when I tell people this story because there's nothing that I can give. There's no moral reward here.

There's no struggle of me. There's just the thing that I do say to people based on that information is that if you focus all of your attention on the important thing, for me, was the music, then everything else works out. It finds its own way. It's like, it was like going, it was like it went viral. That's what happened. That was the early version of it. It was like old school viral. It was something that people just connected to.

You know, and I remember, I think Time Out wrote up something cool. And this was in the space of two months, right? Time Out wrote up something cool. And this was in the space of two months, right? Time Out wrote up something. And this woman, I was in the bathroom at the knitting factory. And this woman said, she mispronounced my name. It was really cute. And she said, oh, yeah, well, I live up on the upper, oh, here we are, the upper something side. And I read that you were something I should really go downtown to check out.

And she wasn't even being like a fan. She was just like, I'm here because I read a thing. And I was like, this is crazy and impossible. But so yeah, so the only thing that I do have to say to people when they do say, how did you get your start? And what did you do? What were the steps? And how hard was it? I was just saying, look, for as easy as that was, the previous 10 years were as hard as they could

possibly have been. And what I did was I wrote good music and I allowed it to be accessible by the world and it made its own way. So that's my go-to. But that's such an important story, right? Because I mean, it's not like you were an overnight success. It's not like magically you went down, you were busking, somebody picked up a CD and then ta-da, two months later, you're playing at the knitting factory and everybody wants to talk to you. You know, this was like the fact that you could create something that was so moving, so compelling, so well put together, you know, that people would want to pass it around and

then it would lead to this. Yeah. Like you said, that's about like all the years that led up to that. That's about like you, your emotions led up to that. That's about like you, your emotions, your angst, your skill, your devotion to craft, like playing in the basement with like, you know, your friends for years. That's where that came from. Yes. And I think it happened at a younger age than for a lot of people, but it definitely, I mean, there was that the whole 10,000 hours that was there. The like pain and drama of things not working out.

You know, whatever that meant to teenage me, that was there. But I do think there was also a little bit of strength in the years to come in the idea that I did not want this more than anything. This was something that I just did. It was beyond me as a person to say no to it. It was just something I just loved doing and did and was always going to do one way or the other. And I think that there is a lot of comfort in that for me. Because to this day, I still play crappy gigs. You know, I mean, like, they happen.

And there's so much love in playing and joy and the focus and thinking and the non-thinking and the writing and all of it. And then, so I still love what I do, even though it's not always awesome, but it's pretty awesome. Well, I mean, it's sort of like, you know, like the worst day, you know, in that compared to sort of like the average day doing something that is completely disinteresting to you or, you know, it's still, you know, probably like a pretty good day. It's a pretty good day. Apparently speaking.

Sometimes I long for things that I'd be, that I am disinterested in because sometimes I long for the separation. Yeah. Yeah. Just to be able to kind of turn it off and step back. To be able to have less, like sort of a, to be able to return to that time that was just pure pleasure and there was no fear and there was no like financial fear or is this going to be a success or not? It was just, we're just going to play and it's going to be lovely. I always see jobs that I think I could do that I could be good at.

And like sometimes I'll get a carton of eggs and they have little little stamps on them, and I think I could stamp those eggs. You probably could. I probably could. I'd probably be really, really gentle with each egg. No, I think that there's always, especially once it became my only source of income, it did shift into like, this is really what we want to do. The Apple watch series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple watch ever,

making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming or sleeping. And it's the fastest charging Apple watch, getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series X, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone Xs are later required. Charge time and actual results will vary. Mayday, mayday. We've been compromised.

The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were gonna be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot him. We need him.

Y'all need a pilot. Flight Risk. A couple of questions. One, going back to the moment where, so I was in, I'm a longtime New Yorker too. I was here on 9-11. I was here for a long time before and ever since. So I get there was something that happened in the city that as much as the rest of the country was suffering, it was different in the city. There was an energy that was profound and heavy, but also in a weird way beautiful.

There was an openness and a willingness to just recognize other people's humanity and give in support of it that I haven't seen since in the city. I wonder what it was like for you trying to find that sense of connection, stepping onto the subway platform for the first time shortly after that moment, playing for the very first time in front of people at that immediate moment in time. It was very catalytic. It was a lot of energies coming together. For me, I was just as grateful as other people were. So I was just as grateful

to have a place to go play guitar. And, you know, and there were other like open mics around the city. I think I played at Sidewalk Cafe. I think I my little thing here and there. But it was in the subway that, I mean, people would write me these notes or people would, they'd miss their train. There was something that was great player and the great this or that. I mean, like, it was the music. And that music has a power beyond me. As woo as that sounds, it's true. And the writing of it, yes, it was me and it was the years and years and years of practice and hard work and all of that stuff. But again, it didn't, a lot of those songs just, they weren't born out of the genius that is my head. They just happened. And I think that there was something that was, you know, calling to people that was healing. So yeah, I got a, you know,

and I think, I think my first time on the subway, I didn't even go out there to make money. I had my guitar case behind me and people were like stuffing dollars into it. And I, and that's when I realized, oh wow, this could be a nice.

Yeah. It's like they were like, we can't not thank you for this in some way. Yes, exactly. Exactly. And I'm sure that many subway musicians had similar experiences. Just the willingness to come and make it feel normal again, I think, was really important. But yeah, I have not had an experience as profound.

What I actually did for the 10-year anniversary of my first album is I played the whole thing through on the Subway platform. And I invited, you know, I just told people where it would be. And I think a group of like 50 or 60 people showed up. Oh, that's awesome. Yeah, it was cool. I wonder if anybody sort of like now was at that very first performance. It still sort of like follows you and listens to you. And like, or even if in that moment,

that 10 year anniversary, that would have been pretty cool. It would have been. I mean, I do get a lot of people who want to out, they sort of want to outdo each other. Yeah. It impressed me on like how deep a fan they are. Like how far we go back, how many shows, how far they drove that night.

Yeah. That's pretty funny. So you're out of NYU. This magical experience happens. Did you know at that moment when you're like, okay, so I'm at the knitting factory, but you're still pretty fresh out of college. Yeah.

Did you know at that moment that, okay, this is actually what I'm going to do? No. Or did it still take time? It took a lot of time. It took until, so I put out that first album. I mean, that collection of demos is my first album. That was never intended to be an album. It was just, you know, grabbing a little recording time here and there with friends. So that album to me is

just so, it's so raw and it's kind of incredible that people still have the reaction to it that they do. And I started to tour. So I was, you know, being, I had a proper manager, I had a proper label on that's what you do. You start touring. I was opening for a lot of jam bands because that was the scene they were in. You know, interesting in a lot of ways, but very, you know, like a great lesson in how to comport oneself when you are in a situation that you may not prefer and a great great lesson on professionalism and just how to show up for yourself and i started touring by my like around the country on my own um so we're going from like you know 15 year old 16 year old khaki who can barely leave the house in atlanta to less than a decade later and i am you know

flying to denver renting a car headed to aspen to play a gig for a bunch of hippies it doesn't start till 1 a.m then i'm like flying out to san francisco playing the great american music hall you know stuff like that so it happened really quickly i had to grow up i was it was when i grew up was age 23 and you know it takes the age that it takes, whatever. But, you know, being responsible for being alone and responsible for myself in all kinds of unkind, unforgiving environments was a lot of growth. I was signed, I'm getting to the point of when I realized this was going to be my job. I was signed to, you know, meanwhile I've had like, you know, I worked at Sam Ash for a summer. I worked in the basement of NYU Library for two weeks.

And then I had worked at Blue Man Group. So I was in the band at Blue Man Group. And I think in the very same week, I got a record deal and I got the job at Blue Man Group. It was a pretty good week. And I was still 22. And for those who don't know, Blue main group is this legendary yeah i mean now music slash thing that's been in the city forever it's been forever i mean god it's almost like that it's probably been almost 30 years but at that time i was when i was still at the astra

place the original not the original but they're like you know the production that had been going for so long before it became like blew up across the world yeah um is that when ian was still there that ian had just left but ian got me the world. Was that when Ion was still there? That Ion had just left, but Ion got me the job. Oh, no kidding. Ion Pei was a friend of a friend and I gave him a record. I gave him a CD and he knew that I was tapping. So he actually emailed me and said,

they're auditioning for Chapman Stick. Like tell them I sent you basically. That's how I got the audition. That's too funny. And I was the first one of the day, which is like, you never want to be the first one of the day. And I walked out of that audition going, for the rest of my life, I'll be able to tell people that I auditioned for Blue Moon Great Pine. At a bare minimum. I had literally no, I had absolutely no vision for myself.

But again, it really had come two days before. And I'd never touched a Chapman stick, which is a type of instrument that you tap on. So yeah, so it was a good week, that week. It sounds like it. It's funny. The only way I know Ian is because it was back around that exact same time. I was actually a young lawyer. And somebody who I was working with was a really close friend with him.

And because, and I ended up, I used to live in this like massive old warehouse in Brooklyn where like he would just, he had every instrument in the planet. He could play every instrument in the planet. And I just ended up there one night, just like jamming into the late hours of night with these guys.

And every once in a while, he would just yell, rotate. And it's like, no matter what he picked up, he would just destroy you on whatever instrument was like your best instrument. He was like a stunning prodigy with what he was capable of. It's funny that there's that intersection there. So that becomes then the moment? No, that's not the moment.

Okay. No, no, no. So we're still heading towards it. Well, yeah, we're heading towards it. So I got hired at Blue Man and I remember the woman, the theater manager, she goes, not the theater, the company manager, whatever she was. She says, the starting pay, I'm not even joking. Don't make this mistake.

Although it was really funny and cute. She says, the starting pay is 90. And I looked at her in the eye and I said, $90,000 a year? And she goes, $90 a show. And I went, okay. $90 a show. And I went, okay. Same basic thing. $90 a show after taxes is, you know. In New York City, not a lot.

Not a lot. But I loved the job and I was never great at it because I never took it seriously enough. Because I wish I'd never given it up to be honest. Cause I know a lot of people who have, have interesting other careers, but they still have Blue Man. They still sub for Blue Man. And I, I wish I'd never stopped subbing, but I did. But anyway, so be, and the reason I stopped subbing, it was because I got signed to Sony. So I got signed to Epic Records, which is, this is, you guys, if you're listening, this is insane. insane i was i wasn't even 24 i think i was still 23 when i got the deal the record came out i was 24 my second record i was on a major label i am a guitarist that does not sing at this point and i was given like they're throwing money at me while

the entire like while rome is, while digital is everything, streaming is everything, downloading, no one wants to buy, everyone knows the value of a CD and it's zero. Like music is worth zero now and they're still throwing money at it. So there's just, just, just like money is just spilling out of every orifice. No one sees it. No one gets it. No one is like, none of this will be here. At the same time, no one was trying to make me a star. I had the, you know, what are they going to do? Tell me I'd play guitar differently. It was like, it was just the strangest thing. And I'm so glad I'm, I really am so glad that I witnessed it it was I think it was a interesting turning point in my career I love the record likes to make us longer but it was just the just witnessing it all go away in that time was fascinating because that was like right that was like the early days of when everything changed but it happened really it happened so fast right it was like by the time I by the time I was done with that record cycle, we couldn't find the phone number and email of a single individual we had worked with. They were all gone.

Everyone had been fired. No kidding. We couldn't even find a lawyer who worked at Sony to dismiss me from my contract. It was like just watching every single wall just flop, flop, flop, flop all around you. And, you know, and just like these people would do. And I say these people, these are not bad people. These are just people that were not being instructed in a wise way of like where the future was headed. And so, you know, for instance, the A&R guy from Epic wanted to drive up to the studio where we were screwing around, basically,

spending money. He said, you did, you screwed around. He made records by screwing around in a studio that was expensive. And he drove up and wanted to know what was going on. And I remember looking and seeing that his car rental, for some reason, was like $1,000 to drive up in a special super SUV with like GPS. Whoa. And I thought, and then I, and then it occurred to me, I'm paying for that. Like that's out of my deal. Like no, no, no foresight that that money was not going to be there. So, I mean, beyond just the incredulity of that, the whole scenario, you do this, you go out with them and then everything starts to change. And so like when that whole thing kind of falls apart, it's the wrong word, but basically it comes to an

abrupt-ish end. It's kind of like another inflection point for you. Cause you're like, okay, so how do I play this? Like, what's my next move here? You know, like, do I stay in this, in like the industry path under label? Do I do my own thing? Like, where do I, who am I and what am I, where do I go from here? So being on a major label allowed me to purchase very cheap health insurance through SAG-AFTRA. So I was a, I've been a SAG-AFTRA member and then subsequently on COBRA insurance back when that was, I mean, like really health insurance was a big deal. That was the moment that my mother said, oh, maybe you can do this. And that was like the marker. And I think as a parent, I'm a parent now and I get it at the time. I was like, oh, you're just, you know, you're being conservative and weird, but I get it now.

I mean, you know, if you have, if you have some sort of job security and security in your healthcare, then, you know, that's, that's what we're all looking for. So I think that was a turning point of realizing that there are some serious paths to adult-ness. Not adulthood, adult-ness that I could feel happening. And I was also at that point had been totally self-supporting through music for years at that point. So it was, you know So it was looking interesting. But your question about where do you go, I did want to try new things.

And I wanted to try playing with a band. I did not want to invite that band to make a record with me. So I went to Chicago. And I had always been a fan of Tortoise and See You in Cake and Post Rock and all that stuff. So I asked John McIntyre, who's the drummer and producer of those bands, and many others to do my third record, Until We Felt Red, which I think is an interesting record. And I sang a bit,

and I tried a lot of different instruments, and there was a lot going on. There's still, everything's very guitar-based, but it was just, I knew that I also, I knew this, I did not have another, I didn't have a third great solo guitar record in my back pocket. So I had to stall. I had to stall for like the next seven years. You're like, keep pointing people like, look over there, look over there. It kind of was. And it was also just a, you know, again, like there was, because there was no plan and because the industry is in freefall, it was just, well, let's just try whatever. I mean, there's clearly no, you know, I'm making my own path and no one's telling me, well, you need to do this. I mean, I had friends that were signed to Epic and people were like, you know, getting them stylists, making them dress differently.

And I was like, ah. I mean, that was always one of my curiosities with you, right? Because you come in, like you said, then and still like to a large part now, you know, the industry generally has like a mold. Yeah. They're like, okay, so which one of these templates do you fit into? And we're going to find the closest one. And then we're going to kind of like change you to fit into it, you know, and that's kind of the way.

That's why I said it's insane. So you show up and they don't even try and do that. Because I was such an outsider. It's insane that they were signing a solo acoustic guitar player to a major label with a major label deal. That is crazy. That is just burning money. It's burning money. Even if I was like a super hot, sexy babe that played guitar in a bikini just throwing away money. Like no, but 2% of the population listens to instrumental music. It's

not a big market. And so what they were thinking, they were not thinking it was, I was a vanity project. It was like, let's do this interesting thing. I remember my A&R guy being like, well, I saw a photo of you and you were wearing black and white stripes. And then I thought, oh, the white stripes. And I was like, that's not a connection. That's not a thing. Like a striped shirt and the most popular rock band on earth at that moment is not, that's not a thing. Right.

You're just grasping at straw. Yeah, they were grasping at straw. They were looking for the template and they had none because it was just, you know, crumbling. So I think it's just a fascinating anomalous thing that happened to me. Yeah. But it really frees you to just kind of be like, okay, so if, if one of the biggest labels can get behind me without having to change me. Yeah. Like I'm really fortunate. What if I can, like, maybe that's also a signal that I can move forward in this industry and, and still be me. I think that I do.

I think I was trying to be me harder than anyone. I remember that we realized that no one knew I was gay. There was like, I remember I had my lip pierced and I was playing, I played on Conan O'Brien with my lip pierced, but the lights were so blown out, you couldn't even really see it. And not that a lip piercing means that you're gay, but at the time it was kind of a, you know, sexy, cool thing for little young dykes to do. And so it was like, how can we get this information

to the people that need it? Let's hire a gay publicist. So we hired a gay publicist literally to just work gay press. So no, it was, it was almost like, let, let's tell the world more because when you're not singing and when every interview is about, you know, how wide is your net on your guitar? I mean, like the most just like comatose types of interviews about gear and about technique and nothing about feeling or emotion or writing or history or anything. That's all the people knew. So it was like I really and this is pre-social media. So I had to get out the word that I was cool, which I wasn't. And, you know, that I had something to contribute as a human. Yeah.

Mayday, mayday. We've been compromised. The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot himth. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is?

You're going to die. Don't shoot him. We need him. Y'all need a pilot. Flight risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever,

making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest charging Apple Watch, getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series X, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone XS or later required, charge time and actual results will vary. What was it like, though, for you to share because it seems like as much as you're forward facing with your music for a lot of the time there was a boundary

there was like you were private with a certain part I mean what was it like for you to start to say no I want my public quotes there right to kind of know more of me as a human being and to let them in to be more publicly vulnerable and open I will say this like if to kind of know more of me as a human being and to let them in to be more morally publicly vulnerable and open. I will say this, like if, God, what would be the timeframe? I mean,

2005 versus now, completely different story because you're still in charge of the narrative. 2005 is you are interviewed by who you want to be interviewed by or who would, you know, who will bother to interview you. And, but you, there is no other, there's no access point to information other than you and then some like hardcore crazy fans making, you know. Right, mixtapes in the basement. Yeah, or like websites that are, you know, that have like awkward photos of you, which is, you know, thanks. Thanks for that one, guys. Still really, really appreciate that, you know, series of double chin photos. So no, it was still at that time, like not a problem because I had always, you know, I never hid who I was about anything really. So, you know, and again, like you're right about saying like there was no, yes, there was Conan O'Brien, but I went to work the next day at Blue Man. And then there was David Letterman, but I still had 500 roommates and was living in a loft in Bushwick. I mean, there was no like, let's like elevate you to this point of, you know, crazy success.

It was still very, I was a working musician. Like I had to go to work. I had to find the next gig. I had to plan the next tour. We had to figure out the next photo shoot. We had to do, all the work was still being done. So it was never like, I never lost my head in that particular aspect of it.

Strategically, would I have done different things? Sure. I mean, hindsight's 20-20 always. But at that time in sort of 2005, 2006, I felt like I was, I was making really good work. I was living my life. I had relationships, I had friendships, I had, you know, things were okay. Yeah. And as you're building also, so you're, you basically take full control over your career at that point. You i had i had my manager i had my my you know label manager and they were good friends and we all you know we i had a good team i had a great publicist i had i've always had a good team and i've been fortunate i've had you know my i had a

guitar company behind me i've always had a great lawyer i mean like i just i've always had support so i'm not this is not me doing this on my own at all, but it was never like what I wanted or what I saw was never like, that's a dumb idea. It was like, all right, let's try that. I started to play lap steel and I played so badly. Lap steel is a hard instrument to play well if you're beginning. I played so badly that my managers would leave, whatever gig it was, as soon as I brought that thing out, they'd leave the room because they couldn't, they like could not bear. Make sure nobody's recording. Yeah. It was just like, Jesus, you know, and then eventually I became a very accomplished lap steel player and it's featured

on many of my records. So it was never like, don't do that. It was like, we're just, we're just gonna allow you to embarrass yourself. Do it in private. Yeah. Let us know when you're ready. Exactly. I mean, it sounds like there was just a chunk of years after that where you were just kind of like playing nonstop. Yeah. You were touring. I toured more than half the time, which is disruptive and difficult.

I mean, because on a personal level, but also on a creative level, I mean, it's got to be like there's a strong tension. You want to be out and playing and interacting with people at the same time. Do you feel like you, can you really into the creative space that you need to get into when you're on the road? No, but I think that I started to use Soundcheck as a place for that.

So any, you know, there's something about, you know, like, yeah, I started to use soundcheck as a place for that so any you know there's something about um you know like yeah i started to i just started to practice new new material during soundcheck where you know i've got the subs bumping under me i've got you know great sound in the and if the fallback was really great through the monitors, I was like, I'm going to sit here for a minute. I'm just going to, I'm just going to do my thing. So cumulatively, so not in a day, not in a week, but over time, over years, things get written, things get worked out. So a couple of things happen. I guess we're going back four or five years now. Right. So one, you fall in love. I did fall in love, yeah. Get married.

I got married. And I guess not soon, too far after that, become a parent. I did, yeah. I'm always curious with this. I'm curious how parenting affects every person who's sort of like devoted to a craft. I'm even more fascinated when part of that craft requires you to go into, like to spend a lot of time almost like in your head and on the road. Yeah. How, how that sort of like affects you and also how being a parent affects what you create. It's pretty fucked up.

I, I, I, I approach life like life is just a creative act. I think that people say, I'm not creative. I'm like, ah, yeah, but you had to choose what you wanted to eat for lunch today. Like life is creativity. And I did not know that I wanted to be a mother until I met the person that I could be a mother with. So meeting my wife was the missing piece. Luckily enough, this is very interesting at this very particular point in my life. So we are going back like five years. I had, yeah, it was about

five years that I had just created the show that I had been touring for five years. And it was a multimedia show where the guitar is white. It is lit up with projection. There's a screen behind me and there is a ton of amazing music and amazing technology that allows me to use the guitar to control what you see. There's just, it's a, it's a really great show called The Next Bridge to the Body. We'll link to a, I know you have a video up on your site. Even that clip is kind of mind blowing. So that, and it was, it was again, all part of my quote unquote research into expansion of the guitar and the redefinition of the guitar. So the good news the first time around was that I made this show and about five months later, six months later, my daughter was born. So I had something. It was in the box. It was ready to go.

And now it took a long time. I had to still go through things, and I had to fire a bunch of people. It was difficult. But at least in terms of the artistic thing, the artistic process, that was done. And so I got to, yeah, I mean, I went on the road for sure and I had to leave my cute little family and it was definitely hard but it was also like that that was just a given like this is how I support the family this is what I do this is you know that's not going to change and so my son was born almost two years ago and I am currently the mother of two children who are under five and trying to work on a new project. And it is very, very difficult because it's very, very different. I want to stress that it's not difficult because of the children, because that's, you know, I mean, like everyone has an obstacle. It is just so

different. And that is what I'm trying to get used to. So yes, the things that the hours spent in my head, you know, playing guitar, writing, et cetera, and the limit, you know, the fact that I don't go on the road nearly as much and trying to work that out. How do I, you know, how do I maintain the same like ability, you know, level of stability financially without spending half the time on the road? All of it is an equation that is different, but I've been told by so many people who have gone through it that this is a phase of your life. This is a season of your life. And I am currently working on not one, but two projects. And they're very different. And a lot of them are in my head and a lot of them include a lot of things. But again, it's sort of like that cumulative thing where, no, not every day is going to be free all day long to write music and to do as I choose.

There's going to be a lot of like, you know, feeding and bathing and nurturing and reading to and packing the school lunch and, you know, making like I had, you know, I spend most of my time like a new part of my life is I have to be friends with the moms at school, the parents at school. Because they have all the intel. They have all the information about like what's the cool summer camp and what's the thing, you know. So there's a whole, this is a different part of my life that I need to nurture. And I love it. I love parenthood.

I love my children. Creatively, I am learning to figure out this difference because the way I've, the way I put it, if you have the entire day, week, et cetera, totally free with no obligation, you get it done. If you have a month with like a lot to do and a lot of baggage, it still all gets done. It's like, give a thing to a busy person and it's going to get done. It may not get done on the timeline that you seek or the thing that you wish. And there will absolutely be times when you're like trying to wash two muddy, slippery, eely children in the bathtub while they're trying to somehow simultaneously destroy each other. And you're like, why on earth did I do this to myself? And then you put them to bed and you're like, oh, those two kids so it's just um it's different and but it doesn't go away

does it change what i do i'm not sure because i think that darkness and angst and like serious unhappiness that I've left very, very much in my past still is able, I'm still, I still have an access point to it. It's like, my life is beautiful and happy and enjoyable. I walk on this earth, not interested in, like I said, not interested in who I am and what my needs are, but you know, how I can, I'm so much interested in who I am and what my needs are, but, you know, how I can. I'm so much interested in what is going on outside of me, inside of me. I've been in there for so long. I know what's in there. Nothing to look at. that will always be a part of me that I can sort of go to that draws out that need to make and that need to, that desire to create something because it's compelling and

it still satisfies something dark down, some death wish, some kind of, you know, malaise or evil that is not walking with me at all, but still, my brain still very much understands and observes. Yeah. I wonder if sometimes that shadow ever goes away. I don't. And whether it's even an aspiration to make it go away. No, I think that it's, I think your life's, you know, everything that happens to you is you. Yeah. This feels like a good place for us to start to come full circle as well.

So, so name me, this is a good life project. So if I offer up the phrase to live a good life, what comes up? Oh, it's funny. The first thing I thought was gardening, growing something, having potential, always have potential. I think that is something I learned from John Maeda, who has been a sort of interesting connector and mentor for me in recent years. But he was speaking about someone who had a lifetime of incredible work that they had done. And they were in their 80s. And he said, she has potential.

Yeah, so always having that need. A good life is one of your reach being out longer than your grasp. Thank you. You're welcome. So we're very fortunate. Kaki has brought her guitar with her today. I don't know. There's an interesting guitar on this wall that I'm kind of into.

So let's just kind of say whatever you want to play, just grab whatever's calling you and kind of swing the mic around. What do you call this? I haven't named it yet. You don't have to. I kind of feel like I do, actually. So I was just going to demonstrate that percussive, non-percussive thing. So the left hand is doing this. The right hand.

But if I do becomes a totally different thing that's drumming guitar solo Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. guitar solo Thank you so much. Not a bad guitar, man. Good job. Thank you so much for listening, and thanks also to our fantastic sponsors who help make this show possible. You can check them out in the links

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That's S-P-A-R-K-E-T-Y-P-E.com. Or just click the link in the show notes. And of course, if you haven't already done so, be sure to click on the subscribe button in your listening app so you never miss an episode. And then share, share the love. If there's something that you've heard in this episode that you would love to turn into a conversation, share it with people, and have that conversation. Because when ideas become conversations that lead to action, that's when real change takes hold. See you next time. We'll be right back. Flight risk. The Apple Watch Series X. Available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone Xs are later required.

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