Portugal

On insomnia and orchestral wings

Dec 03, 2024

Hello,

Sending transmissions from a snowy Kansas City, where I’ve recently returned after a three week jaunt across Europe. This was my last tour on the books for the foreseeable future and the finale of my This Is A Photograph touring cycle, which started nearly three years ago. It’s always emotional ending a cycle, especially this one - which took me around the world a few more times than my previous ones. The stages and audiences continued to grow and for that I am forever grateful. It’s been a wild few years and it feels right on time that I close this chapter of my life.

A few weeks ago I flew into Poland to begin this final tour - one of my favorite places and in my opinion the most underrated country in Europe - to play a wonderful festival called Sea Side in Gdansk. I had never been to Gdansk before but it, like all the Polish cities I’ve had the pleasure of playing over the past three years, was truly wonderful.

I really love Poland and think that it gets a bad reputation amongst us Americans due to its proximity to Russia and the war in Ukraine. I know what Americans are envisioning when they think of Poland, because I used to be the same way, but I assure you that all you will find beyond its borders are it’s immaculate cities, incredibly warm and friendly people and some of the best food you’ll ever have. I encourage all of you to go.

(Funny enough, just last night I saw the new Jesse Eisenberg film which takes place across Poland which really added to my love of the film and did a good job at depicting its unique beauty).

After Poland we headed into central Europe for a week of shows across the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany. A somewhat grueling six shows in a row, which is nobody’s fault but my own, but we made it out alive.The sun didn’t come out for 9 days straight which, when mixed with our jet lag and travel, was pretty exhausting. But true to the rock n roll spirit, adrenaline took over as we hit the stage each night and the audiences resurrected us back to life.

After our last show in Germany, the night before I flew to Portugal to rehearse with Ensemble Da Escola Profissional De Musica De Espinho, the student symphony I’d be spanning the country with, I got thrown into an insomnia loop that ended up lasting a few days, which happens from time to time - especially when on tour in Europe.

My therapist would probably point out the these bouts of insomnia come at times of great change, pressure and burn out. I was certainly feeling all three and more with the emotions of this cycle coming to a close, my band flying home without me, the mounting political headlines threatening WWIII and having to relearn forgotten parts of my catalog to perform with a whole orchestra of strangers. All of this while running on fumes - each one contributing to robbing me of the one thing I needed the most; sleep.

If you haven’t seen the sun for nine days though, and you haven’t slept, Portugal is a wonderful place to fly into. From the moment I landed I felt a sense of peace I’m unable to access in other parts of the continent. I’ve called Portugal - and specifically Porto - my European home many times over the years, and this trip only cemented that fact. And though I was relieved to land there, my insomnia loop continued and I couldn’t find my way out of it.

A few nights later, on the eve of the first show, it became clear to me that I wasn’t going to be able to sleep for the nearly the third night in the row - despite all of my efforts. The idea of another restless night into a seven hour travel day into my first performance with the symphony felt so daunting that I spiraled into a kind of panic attack.

At one in the morning I called my manager Aja, my girlfriend Katie, my bandmate Liam and best friend Justin back home, in a panic, telling them that I was thinking of buying the first flight home and cancelling the tour. Each, so supportive in their different ways of whatever I wanted to do, one by one, talked me down from my spiral and in the end I made the decision to stay.

Liams advice from that night sticks with me now, with him reminding me that the only decision I could have made in the middle of the night was to buy a flight home, but that if I could make it to the morning, the day would open up with more possibilities to choose from. It brought to mind the great Rainer Maria quote:

“Let everything happen to you; Beauty and terror; Just keep going; No feeling is final.”

The next day I boarded a charter bus at 7 AM that took me and 12 other souls, the majority of whom are between the ages of 14-18 years old, across the entirety of Portugal where we played our first show in Faro. As we entered the beach town a huge billboard with my face on it hung next to the welcome sign off the side of the highway - adding to the surreal nature of my sleep depravity.

Playing with a symphony for the first time isn’t easy and requires a good amount of brain power, which I was running incredibly low on. It’s also not easy for someone who thrives off of the chaos and spotenatiey of live music, but I slowly got the hang of it. That first night in Faro was shaky, but after finally getting some sleep afterwards, the second night in Lisbon went great and I started to get the sense that these would be some of the most special shows of my career.

Over the course of the following week my love for the shows, the orchestra, and Portugal deepend in ways I hadn’t imagined. Each night I felt us gaining strength as a unit as did our friendships off the stage. Initially I wasn’t sure what the small symphony would think of having to play to an American indie rock artist, but a few days in it became clear that these kids, who had never toured before, were having the time of their lives, as was I.

I visited three cities in Portugal I hadn’t been to before; Braga, Viseu and Faro - as well as Espinho, Porto and Lisbon. I had been warned by my friend Tim Bernardes - the great Brazilian musician - that the Theatre Circo I was playing in Braga was the most beautiful theatre in Portugal, and he wasn’t kidding. Triple tiered and marvelous, it was the type of venue an artist dreams of being able to hear their voice resonate inside of.

Each night as the symphony came in behind me, especially with the arrangement on Bittersweet, Tennessee, I felt as if they were lifting me up, giving me wings and carrying me into the rafters of these beautiful concert halls. It was a magical experience.

After the last show was over I spoke to the percussionist Ricardo, a 17 year old, about his future dreams to attend and play music at the Conservatorium in Amsterdam. So rarely am I around teenagers that I had forgotten that spending time with the young can feel a bit like time travel in that you recognize and remember parts of your past self within them. In Ricardo’s case I recognized the wide eyed young man who is squinting into the blinding light of their unwritten future, dreams abound. Then I’d zap back into my future self of the present moment, noticing my age and all the time that lay between us.

I’m not worried about Ricardo’s future or whether he gets into the Conservatorium or not. He’ll find a way to realize his dreams regardless and it will be exciting to follow. In fact I’m so very excited for them all. I have no doubt they’ll achieve their various dreams if they really put their minds to it, no matter what path may lead them there, making the world a better, brighter place along the way. They’ve already made my world much, much brighter.

It was priceless to see the magic of travel and music glimmering in their young eyes, reflecting back at me. It helped give weight and gratitude to not only our short tour across Portugal, but this whole cycle I’ve just wrapped up - and to remember that the foundation of all these dreams, friendships and memories I’ve cultivated over the years is, and will always be, the people and the music.

Thank god for all these beautiful people and thank god for all the beautiful music.

xoxox

A few other things of note from my trip:

I went to The Hague, in the Netherlands, for the first time and loved it.
I have realized my dreams of selling Nunchucks, PB and J tshirts and more here
In Espinho I had a contender for the best meal of my life at Restaurante A Fornalha.
I ate the best Perogies I’ve ever had, in Gdansk, at Pierogarnia Stary Młyn.
I reread David Foster Wallace’s essays on Tennis called String Theory and it was even better the second time.
I listened to Nick Cave’s Wild God and Tim Bernardes album Mil Coisas Invisíveis on repeat.
I also watched the show Hacks, which was a great companion on all those nights I couldn’t sleep.
Katie got a Grammy nomination for best Americana album which is very exciting and so deserved.
I got the tragic news that my old friend Ross Noyes passed away. Ross was a good soul and I’m going to miss him. Rest in peace.