In an attempt to cure my pandemic blues of mid-2020, I bought the first real piano I’d ever owned (at least since moving out of my parent’s house, so take it or leave it). Though as the months passed, I found myself somewhere between no motivation to play and no excuse not to play. It turns out I wasn’t the only one in my small circle of Twin Cities musicians who felt this way but of course, I didn’t know.
What came most easily then were the same melodies, progressions, and rhythms that have haunted me for years – musical leftovers I never really cleaned out of the fridge, so to speak. But some ideas smelled so strongly of the place and time of their inception that I knew I wasn’t doing them any good letting them sit.
So naturally, I made a bet with my wife who’s always eager to give me a kick in the proverbial butt. $20 if I can finish an album of piano tunes by the end of February. No sooner had I sat down to sort it out than she kicked her own butt by wiping out on a ski hill and breaking her femur in half.
I wouldn’t blame you for reading this as simply a long-winded excuse for the delay. But let me try to redeem myself by saying that’s exactly the point of this album; to showcase the pit stops in life, or the winding journey rather than the destination, if I’m being cliche about it. I hope this dedication of sketches to the people and moments closest to me helps you appreciate yours.