Ever wonder what happened to Bobby McGee?

The story of Bobby McGee began 57 years ago when the late Kris Kristofferson wrote the song, and reached a much larger audience when Janis Joplin recorded it a few years later. Adam Ezra continued the narrative with a song he wrote and has been performing for a number of years, and on June 19 he finally released his “The Last Ride of Bobby McGee” on the Adam Ezra Group’s newest album release, “Revelate.”

Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” is the story of two drifters, McGee and a narrator. The pair hitch a ride from a truck driver and sing as they drive through the American South before making their way westward. They visit California and then part ways somewhere near Salinas. The narrator expresses regret, “I'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday.. To be holdin' Bobby's body next to mine.”

Clocking in at almost 500 words and just over 5 1/2 minutes in length, the Ezra follow-up weaves a narrative that finds McGee hunkering down in Presque Isle, Maine and going off the grid for a long stretch at one point. Then apparently he is restless again:

An old man wandered out holdin’ a
bed roll
Legend tells that Bobby was his
name
Been decades since a soul had
even seen him

He finally heads out on the road … in the same manner as last time:

He held his thumb out humbly
towards the sky
A trucker passed him standin',
waitin' patiently
Pulled over there and offered him a
ride

He has never reconnected with his companion from the original song but it is clear that he thinking about her:

And the diesel cab, it felt just like a
cradle
It hummed along while Bobby sang
the blues
He closed his eyes and thought
about a harpoon¹ playin'
And a wild, tangled girl that he
once knew

It is at this juncture of the song that Ezra wraps up McGee’s world view in a simple chorus:

Live hard
Live loud
Do not wait
Live now

The message echoes the spirit of both Kristofferson's original and Ezra's sequel and is Bobby’s epitaph. Freedom always carried a price in his world. While these lines celebrate adventure, they also reflect McGee's growing awareness of his mortality

As the tale unfolds, McGee’s picks up rides, works odd jobs and makes new acquaintances while traveling from Maine to Ohio to Colorado. He eventually finds himself in Parsons, Calif., a combined 4 1/2 hour drive and 1 hour ferry ride from Salinas, where he left the Kristofferson’s narrator many years earlier, when he tells a friend that his journey is about over:

Late night he confessed that he
was dyin'
‘This cancer seems to have the
best of me
But I'd rather go out walkin' in the
sunshine
Than lyin' inside strapped to some
machine’

I won’t spoil a little twist at the ending … if your invested in McGee’s story at this point, it hits hardest coming through Ezra’s voice.

¹ _{A harmonica is commonly called a “harp” in country and blues music. Kristofferson likely modified “harp” to “harpoon.”}

Adam Ezra Group performs “The Last Ride of Bobby McGee” on Spotify:

Adam Ezra Group performs “The Last Ride of Bobby McGee” on Apple Music (link).

Adam Ezra and Corinna Smith perform “The Last Ride of Bobby McGee” live on YouTube:

More about the band and Ezra

For a long time Ezra performed “The Last Ride of Bobby McGee” solo during Adam Ezra Group performances. Now Corinna Smith usually accompanies him on fiddle. Smith also plays banjo, mandolin, guitar, accordion and keyboards in the group. Other long-time band members include Poche Ponce (bass) and Alex Martin (drums and percussion).

A prolific songwriter, Ezra has recorded 21 albums (solo and group, live and studio) since 2000. John Oates of Hall & Oates has also recorded two songs with Adam and one with the band, and the band has released a single with the duo Sirsy.

The group has received numerous nominations and won five awards from the New England Music Awards including Album, Band, Song (2x) and Americana Act of the Year.

Ezra’s devilishly funny other sequel song

Ezra apparently has a knack for writing and performing sequels for well-known musical protagonists. His “Devil Went Up To Boston” – written almost 14 years ago – is a staple in the Ezra cannon and an audience favorite at the band’s live shows. It has every bit of the energy of the late Charlie Daniels’ “Devil Went Down to Georgia” … and with at least three times the humor of the country rock classic.

The Adam Ezra Group performs “The Devil Went Up to Boston” live on YouTube:

What is your vote for another Ezra sequel?

This all begs the question … having nailed Kristofferson and Charlie Daniels sequels:
What other classic songs might Ezra update?

I vote for one (or all) of these three:
- Don McLean uses the tragic 1959 plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper as a metaphor for the loss of American innocence in “American Pie.” Through shifting cultural imagery, he chronicles the transition from an overly nostalgic account of American life in the 1950s to the polarization and institutional mistrust of the late ’60s. Last we knew the Father, Son and Holy Ghost took the last train to the coast. Why aren’t they waking out of their stupor and coming to our aid today as democratic norms erode? Link to McLean performing “American Pie’ on YouTube.
- “Jack & Diane” confront the fact that “life goes on, long after the thrill of livin’ is gone.” Inquiring minds want to know: Was there a happy ever after for John Mellencamp’s young couple? Link to Mellencamp’s official video of “Jack & Diane” on YouTube.
- Stephen Kellogg wrote was is arguably the best song ever written with a “Thanksgiving” theme. And much like “The Last Ride of Bobby McGee,” its an ambitious storytelling achievement. While the song is not nearly as well known as the others here, the protagonist – “a guy that never gives up” – deserves someone ruminating over whether he finds a path to fulfillment and happiness. Link to Kellogg’s official video of “Thanksgiving” on YouTube.

If you missed it …

In March I wrote that Adam Ezra Group’s “The Toast” – a contemporary drinking tribute song – is equal to the Scottish standard “The Parting Glass.” So raise your glass and read about it here.

Carrie Brockwell performs May 29, 2026 at the Down the Hatch music festival at Kill Devil Hills, N.C. (Jim Murphy photo)

At just age 19, Carrie Brockwell’s talent, ambition, artistic instinct and connections are evident in her live performances and recordings, including her just-released, full-length debut album, “That’s Real.”

A self-described southern rock and country artist with 1970’s roots, the labels are actually broader than that. Country, yes. Wouldn’t guessed the southern rock label though if I hadn’t witnessed her cutting loose recently during an appearance with Lynyrd Skynyrd guitarist Damon Johnson. But also add indie pop and classic songwriter nuances to the mix. And there are yacht rock influences as well; she says that is her favorite genre to listen to on satellite radio. She accurately describes her music as having a “multigenerational feel” in a Nashville Voyager interview.

So with all of these touchstones, what can you expect on “That’s Real?”

A few of the many highlights give an indication:
- “Here I Go Again” is a sound choice to open the album. The breezy pop number reflects on three words – you know the ones – that she blurted out of her “stupid mouth” to a friend for whom she wanted something more. But she adds, “I said it, I meant it, I won’t forget it … I just let it out … blame it all on love.” She concedes that no matter how hard she tries, those words can’t be taken back.

- “I’d Love Not To” is a tight, barely 2-minute ditty acknowledging “these things to do” that she’d occasionally rather put off: dirty dishes, connecting with friends, grocery shopping. Brian Fechino’s dulcimer playing drives the melody with an Americana feel.

- The closest I can come to a description of the first few bars of the self-titled “That’s Real” is a keyboard-driven ’70s A.M. sound … maybe something off a lost Doobie Brothers recording. The song very quickly transitions into a spunky Shania Twain-ish number before eventually giving way to dance beat, with a brief acoustic interlude thrown in before the final stretch. If that sounds like a lot … I promise, it works. Brockwell – who reports to often using those two words in the title – said in an interview with WKRN-Nashville the song is “all about letting things go, being true to yourself and the joy and the freedom you find in that.”

- Brockwell reflects on why she stayed committed as a boyfriend began to disengage in “Why’d I Stay,” a mid-tempo, mainstream country number. The song is ultimately an assertion of self-worth, as she warns the guy not to come around when he’s ready to "play."

While Carrie is technically a solo artist, in practice Fechino is the Finneas to her Billie Eilish. For the past five years, Fechino has been a co-architect of her sound, producing, mixing and co-writing with her, while also anchoring her live and studio performances. On “That’s Real,” he primarily handles guitar but showcases his multi-instrumental chops playing bass, keyboards, dulcimer and the Merlin (a four-string hybrid with characteristics of the dulcimer, mandolin and acoustic guitar).

On her inaugural album, Brockwell documents a young artist who is learning who she is, and in doing so offers an engaging glimpse of who she might become.

More about Carrie Brockwell

Carrie Brockwell performs May 30, 2026 at the Down the Hatch music festival at Kill Devil Hills, N.C. (Jim Murphy photo)

- Carrie, a Chesterfield, Va. native, recently completed her sophomore year at the Mike Curb College of Entertainment & Music Business at Belmont University in Nashville.

- She is playing several festivals this year and will perform with the Richmond Symphony at a October concert honoring Hall of Fame songwriters Victoria Shaw and Gary Burr.

- She headlined the Nashville Walk to End Alzheimer’s, the nation’s largest walk to end this disease, in 2025.

- She was named Country Music Vocalist of the Year at the Josie Music Awards in 2025, received Female Country Album Of The Year there in 2024, and Female E.P. of the Year in 2023. And she is a nominee in the Exceptional Vocalist category in 2026; winners will be announced in a ceremony at the Grand Ole Opry House in September. The JMAs recognize excellence in independent music.

- She made her debut at Nashville’s iconic Blue Bird Café in 2024.

- At age 15, Carrie’s 2022 “American Idol” audition earned a ‘Golden Ticket’ to Hollywood from judges Luke Bryan, Katy Perry and Lionel Richie.

More about ‘Get Real’

Additional artists appearing on the album, which was recorded at The Holler in Nashville, include Ben Jackson on drums and percussion; Patrick “Hammer” Thornton on bass; Daniel Clarke on keys; Lena Doyle on fiddle; Megan Slankard on background vocals; and Bri Bryant and Jon Bryant of Welshly Arms on background vocals for the title track.

Fechino and Thornton also perform together in Brian Fechino & The Risky Beavers, an instrumental band. You can find the band’s 2025 debut album, “The Adventures of Brian Fechino & the Risky Beavers,” on the streaming services. Another band member, Chardy McEwan (percussion) is in the Pat McGee Band, of which Fechino is a former member.

Video performances

Brian Fechino, Carrie Brockwell and Matt “Chew” Calvarese perform the title track from her album “That’s Real” on a windy day on the beach at the Down the Hatch music festival May 30, 2026 at Kill Devil Hills, N.C. (Jim Murphy video)

Brian Fechino, Carrie Brockwell and Matt “Chew” Calvarese perform “I’d Love Not To” at the Down the Hatch music festival May 30, 2026 at Kill Devil Hills, N.C. The song is a track from her first full-length album, “That’s Real,” which was released the same day. (Jim Murphy video)

Streaming links

”Get Real” album on Spotify:

”Get Real” on Apple Music (link).

Bonus photo

Carrie Brockwell performs during an Elton John tribute on June 3, 2023 at the Down the Hatch music festival at Kill Devil Hills, N.C. (Jim Murphy photo)

“Finger in the Air” is a song for anyone who has been knocked down personally or professionally. I expect many, if not most, of us can relate.

The cycle in the song: We fail. We survive. But let’s not let those setbacks define us. We persist and carry on. This messaging is repeated often in Red Wanting Blue’s catalogue.

On “Love Remains,” frontman Scott Terry is “holding on for life,” determined to chase his dream and somehow maintain his relationship with his “Queen.” The refrain, “Don't give up, you can keep up, keep on moving” – coupled with the imagery of roads, vanishing points and lighthouses – should resonate with couples separated by work, travel, school, military service, touring or another kind of distance.

On “Light It Up,” Scott offers:

Everybody deserves a chance to win …
Let our dreams set fire to the cold
Every day there's a new chance to begin

On “Hope on a Rope,” Scott is captain of a “rusty bucket ship … in search of big gold.” He’s “set sail for the land of greener grass” but now lost, he summons courage to settle in for what will be a long haul:

Push yourself to the limit, kid
That-a-boy, way to go
Compass is broke …
There’s no end to this road.

These are just a few examples of these themes from the band’s catalogue. But few songs in any artist’s repertory creates as immediate and visceral a crowd response as RWB’s “Finger in the Air,” off their 2008 album, “These Magnificent Miles.” The atmosphere during the song at each show feels intensely individual and entirely communal at the same time. Every raised voice and elevated middle finger is seemingly connected to a personal slight, heartbreak or lingering resentment, and an always earnest performance by the band balances tension and catharsis. This is very best kind of liberating heartland rock. (See video at the end of this article from a recent live performance.)

“Middle Finger in the Air” lyrics

Go away, I’m in too truthful a mood to talk
Lines on the map tangle up when my heart gets lost

Cut me down to size
Cut me down to size
I believe
Cut me down

Everybody says it ain’t gonna be easy
Nobody said, kid, it’s gonna get hard
Heaven’s a place for only those who pay their bills on time
Fate has a way of turning innocence into a crime

Cut me down to size
Cut me down to size
I believe
Cut me down

Everybody says it ain’t gonna be easy
Nobody said, kid, it’s gonna get hard
They say give up and go back where you belong
Dreaming’s for the dead, the road is too long

Middle finger in the air, I’m still here
Egging them on

The road’s paved the same way for sinners and saints
I believe
Beginners test the water and suffer the fate

You don’t know what I’ve seen
You don’t know what I’ve seen
You don’t know what I’ve seen
You don’t know this is what I’ve always wanted

Everybody says it ain’t gonna be easy
Nobody said, kid, it’s gonna get hard
They say give up and go back where you belong
Dreaming’s for the dead, kid, the road is too long
Middle finger in the air, I’m still here
Egging them on

Middle finger in the air
Egging them on

Red Wanting Blue’s “Finger in the Air” on Spotify:

Red Wanting Blue’s “Finger in the Air” on Apple Music (link).

Red Wanting Blue’s “Finger in the Air” on YouTube:

Red Wanting Blue’s performance of “Finger in the Air” live on The Rock Boat on Feb. 1, 2026 (Jim Murphy video):

Pat McGee’s “Haven’t Seen for a While” from his 1997 solo debut, “From the Wood,” captures an era when relationships depended on letters, scheduled phone calls and patience.

There’s something wonderfully analog in lyrics about “using this pen to talk to you from here” and hoping for mail to “ease my mind.” The meaning is less about heartache and more about devotion, absence and anticipation. And the melody here mirrors the lyrical expression; it is melancholy wrapped in warmth.

The song also offers a subtle clue to the artist’s identity through the runtime: 5:05. In the late ’90s, when commercial radio still leaned heavily toward shorter tracks, McGee didn’t appear interested in compressing his songs for broader chart appeal. Six of the nine tracks on that solo album were at or exceeded 4:39 in length, underscoring a career built less on a national radio strategy and more on developing a loyal Mid-Atlantic and southern fan base through extensive touring and local F.M. radio airplay.

“Haven’t Seen For A While” was re-recorded by the full band on the studio album “Shine” in 2000; that version clocks in even longer at 5:32.

Pat McGee Band (below) performing before an estimated 10,000 people at Belmont on Broadway on June 5, 2024 in Saratoga Springs, N.Y. (Jim Murphy photo)

Pat McGee (below) performing at the Down the Hatch music festival in May 2025 at Kill Devil Hills in the Outer Banks. More on the festival beneath the lyrics. (Jim Murphy photo)

Lyrics

As I lay here in bed
Your smile fills my head
I’m using this pen to talk to you from here
From southern way

It’s been a week since I’ve seen you last
Time away from you ain’t moving too fast
Wishing my summer away
Just to see you again

I’m there by your side, I’m looking in your eyes
Seeing you with me, what else could there be?
If I couldn’t get away, I would be there today
You’d be wearing that smile I haven’t seen for a while
I haven’t seen for a while

Wake up everyday, go through the same routine
Go to work, come home, does it all really mean?
Check the mail, just hoping to find
Another note from you would ease my mind

It’s 5:15, I can picture you driving home
From your same old scene
In 5 you’ll hear the phone ringin’
Have to settle for talking again

I’m there by your side, I’m looking in your eyes
Seeing you with me, what else could there be?
If I couldn’t get away, I would be there today
You’d be wearing that smile I haven’t seen for a while
I haven’t seen for a while

I can picture you now
You’re standing outside your house
The breeze is blowin’ off the northern shore
Loving you more

Long for the day when there’s no goodbyes
Wish I could see you, I’ll wipe the tears from your eyes
Tell you everything is alright
Lay you down, say to you goodnight

I’m there by your side, looking in your eyes
Seeing you with me, what else could there be?
If I couldn’t get away, I would be there today
You’d be wearing that smile I haven’t seen for a while
I haven’t seen for a while, I haven’t seen for a while
Haven’t seen for a while

Updates

Pat McGee continues to tour in solo, duo and full band configurations. Earlier this year he announced he was working on an album with Danny Kortchmar, who has worked as a songwriter and/or in the studio with David Crosby, Graham Nash, Neil Young, Don Henley, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstandt and many others.

McGee has overseen an intimate music festival, Down the Hatch, for the past 16 years in North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Blending the laid-back atmosphere of a beach vacation with a communal spirit that defines a connection to his fans, it is a tradition built around friendships, music and escape. There are still a few tickets remaining to this year’s gathering – the dates are Wednesday, May 27 to Saturday, May 30 – for those who can make a last-minute commitment. More info here.

Pat McGee Band’s 2000 version of “Haven’t Seen for a While” on Spotify:

Pat McGee’s solo 1997 version of “Haven’t Seen for a While” on Apple Music (link).

Pat McGee trio performing “Haven’t Seen for a While” on YouTube, recorded live in 2023:

I first heard Brad’s “The Day Brings” more than a decade after its 1997 release. Oddly enough, it surfaced not on college radio or a late-night F.M. playlist, but in the background at a Burger King where I occasionally stopped for lunch. The music volume was so low I couldn’t make out the lyrics. And this was during Shazam’s infancy (it launched in 2008) so perhaps while trying to use it … instead of not being able to clearly discern it, it simply didn’t recognize the song. But after months of my occasionally hearing it and trying Shazam again, the app finally delivered and sent me to the song and the album it came from, “Interiors.”

So it wasn’t the lyrics that hooked me initially. It was the rhythm: steady, rolling, almost hypnotic. Its warm piano-centered cadence felt worlds apart from the harder-edged rock dominating radio at the time — Bush, Oasis, Green Day, Garbage and Soundgarden. Which made the song all the more fascinating given Brad’s Northwest pedigree: vocalist Shawn Smith (Satchel, Pigeonhed, The Twilight Singers), guitarist Stone Gossard (Pearl Jam, Mother Love Bone), bassist Jeremy Toback and drummer Regan Hagar (Malfunkshun, Satchel) all emerged from a scenes far more associated with grunge than with this song’s reflective radio-friendly singer-songwriter sensibility. This was more a perfect fit for an artist like Marc Cohn.

Once I had the song digitally and could hear the lyrics … it instantly felt like that was the soundtrack to a great movie scene. The song covers such a range of emotions: “nevermind the thing that people say” (ignore criticism), “storm” and “pain” imagery (acknowledge hardship), “hold up your end and I’ll hold up mine” (share trust) and “and too late, father, you know that that’s for sure” (disappointment) among others. But it is this stirring refrain – underpinned by the driving rhythm – that carries the day:

So gather around
And see what the day brings
And see what makes you laugh
And see what makes you sing

A quick Web search didn’t reveal whether “The Day Brings” has ever been used in a movie or television soundtrack … but elements of it could buttress so many different themes and scenes. In fact, a whole film could be reversed engineered from it; the song invites so many possibilities for storytelling.

Who will write the story?

Lyrics

Hold up your end and I’ll hold up mine
Dancin’ all the time
Dancin’ all the time
And too late, father
You know that that’s for sure
You never find a way
Never find a way

So gather around
And see what the day brings
And see what makes you laugh
And see what makes you sing
And never, nevermind the thing that people say
You’ll never go away
You’ll never go away

Who knows where the storm will take us
Who knows when the pain will break us
When will all the G’s be given
Another chance to live in freedom

Hey now, get your heart
Get your heart off of the shelf
Make the grey sky blue
Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you
And nevermind
The sick and the afraid
Askin’ out today to see a brighter day

So gather around
And see what the day brings
And see what makes you laugh
And see what makes you sing
And never, nevermind the thing that people say
You’ll never go away
You’ll never go away
Who knows where the storm will take us
Who knows when the pain will break us
When will all the G’s be given
Another chance to live in freedom

So gather around
And see what the day brings
And see what makes you laugh
And see what makes you sing
And never, is nevermind
Nevermind the thing that people say
You’ll never go away
You’ll never go away

So gather around
And see what the day brings
See what makes you laugh
And what makes you sing

Brad’s “The Day Brings” on Spotify:

Brad’s “The Day Brings” on Apple Music (link)

Brad’s “The Day Brings” on YouTube:

The Trews catalogue is filled with great songs but “Ismael and Maggie” has a scampish charm that has particular appeal. What begins as a quiet confession swells into something that demands to be shouted back by a room full of strangers raising their pints in recognition.

A bittersweet, heart-on-the-sleeve melody draws you in immediately, while the chorus opens into something far more communal and anthemic, as though the patrons surrounding Ishmael can’t help but join in his storytelling through song. The lyrics inform us upfront that this is not the Ishmael of Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick.” Nor is it the Ishmael from the Book of Genesis, though a line in the song that describes him as “a king upon (his) barstool throne” might suggest that prior to being spurned by Maggie, he resembled the biblical description as one who is "making merry."

And what a terrific couple of lines in the middle of the song:

I vow to never drink alone
I only drink with friends or total strangers

In such an brief description you learn that this Ishmael is lonely, charming and self-aware. He avoids introspection.

At its core, “Ishmael and Maggie” is a reminder of the power of economical songwriting. With a few carefully chosen images and one unforgettable couplet, The Trews create a fully realized character and the setting around him. It doesn’t just tell the story; it invites you to pull up a stool and join in.

Lyrics

Hello, my name is Ishmael
Forget the one about the whale
I’ll tell you of a broken-hearted sailor

Maggie took my loyalty
I treated her like royalty
What starts out with such promise ends in failure

Oh, my love, I can’t stand to be alone
And I’ve been drinkin’ too much, I better go home
And I think here I’m better off alone
But I’ve been thinking too much, I better go home

All hail the queen of cruelty
She has duly been anointed
These final words her majesty had to say
“He who expects nothing never will be disappointed”
Nothing’s what she left me, so I guess I’m okay

Oh, my love, I can’t stand to be alone
And I’ve been drinkin’ too much, I better go home
And I think here we all stand alone
But I’ve been thinking too much, I better go home

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

A promise made to a tab unpaid
It’s home, I wade to my bed unmade
A fool to think that I could ever change her
A king upon my barstool throne
I vow to never drink alone
I only drink with friends or total strangers

We’re all broken-hearted here
We’re all broken-hearted here
We’re all broken-hearted here
We’re all broken

Oh, my love, I can’t stand to be alone
And I’ve been drinkin’ too much, I better go home
And I think here we all stand alone
But I’ve been thinking too much, I better go home

I better go home
I better go home
I better go home
I better go home
I better go home

Ah, that was great
Let’s do it again

The Trews (below) performing at Clayton Opera House in Clayton, N.Y. on April 22, 2022. They’re returning to Clayton as an acoustic trio on May 16. (Jim Murphy photo)

The Trews performing “Ishmael and Maggie” on Spotify:

The Trews performing “Ishmael and Maggie” on Apple Music (link).

The Trews w/ Hermitage Green performing “Ishmael and Maggie” on YouTube:

Somewhere in America
A phone’s about to ring.
Nothing can prepare you for
the news it’s going to bring

Eric Donnelly didn’t set out to write a song about a single moment, because for him it was never just a moment. Each new report of gun violence on the evening news revisited his loss, which eventually stirred him to compose “Somewhere in America.”

The Alternate Routes track, released 10 years ago next month, reflects on the 2005 killing of Donnelly’s parents during a robbery at their jewelry store in Fairfield, Conn.

“It is not written for sympathy or remembrance,” Donnelly told Upworthy in 2016. “It is about empathy,” shaped by the emotions that resurface with every similar tragedy.

The lyrics capture that tension, pairing deeply personal grief with frustration at narratives that attempt to explain the violence. In that way, the song resists closure and lingers in the uncomfortable space between grief and accountability. It reminds us that the story is constantly being written.

The sparse arrangement is repetitious, reiterating concern that communities across the country are reliving the same experience. The band successfully delivers the tension and unresolved weight of Donnelly’s words. Tim Warren’s vocals are restrained until the chorus, when it rises to fortify the story’s universality. The result is a performance that embodies the song’s message.

The Alternate Routes were formed by Warren and Donnelly in 2002 while the two were studying at Fairfield University. The band is based in Bridgeport, Conn. “Somewhere in America” was released as a single and is not on any studio album; it does appear on the band’s 2017 album, “Live in Pawling.”

Lyrics:

The last thing that my father saw
When he was still alive.
Was the gun in the hands of a sick young man
with bright blue eyes.
A man who looked just like me,
As far as anyone else could see
A stranger, not an enemy
And my mother watched it all.
That was the last thing that she saw.

Somewhere in America
A phone’s about to ring.
Nothing can prepare you for
the news it’s going to bring.
Nothing ever changes
Just the names and faces.
Somewhere in America
A phone’s about to ring.

An unlucky break
wrong time, wrong place
I’ve heard them all so many times.
If your dad had had a gun of his own,
maybe they’d still be alive.
But I still can’t believe the resistance.
The denial, the insistence
When somethings broken
that clearly needs fixing
You can fight to change
Or you can fight to stay the same.

Somewhere in America
the news is about to break
Nothing can prepare you for
The toll it’s gonna take
Nothing ever changes
Just the dates and the locations.
Somewhere in America
The news is about to break.

How long is too long
Before the words you can’t say
Just speak for you.

The years have been kind ma
I’ve got a son now of my own.
When I think of what I’ll tell him happened to you
I still don’t know.
That the worlds a much safer place
That kind of danger,
you won’t ever have to face.
I pray he lives to see that day
No idea what I’m going to say.

Somewhere in America
A phone’s about to ring
Nothing can prepare you for
the news its going to bring.
All this while we’ve been waiting
taking time and debating
Somewhere in America
A phone’s about to ring
Somewhere in America

The Alternate Routes’ “Somewhere in America” on Spotify:

The Alternate Routes’ “Somewhere in America” on Apple Music (link)

The Alternate Routes’ “Somewhere in America” on YouTube:

The Alternate Routes (below) perform Feb. 4, 2026 with friends on The Rock Boat. (Jim Murphy photo)

Tomorrow (May 5) will mark the 45th anniversary of the death of Bobby Sands, who was a powerful symbol of resistance in the fight against British rule in Northern Ireland.

There have been a number of songs that have memorialized Sands through the years but none is as affecting as “I Remember Bobby Sands,” written by Mark Emanatian and performed by Kilashandra, a Celtic folk band from Albany, N.Y.

To set the stage, a quick history lesson: To Irish nationalists and republicans – principally Catholics – who sought an end to British rule in Northern Ireland and to establish a united Ireland, Sands was a hero and martyr. To unionists loyal to the British crown – predominantly Protestants – he was a criminal who as a member of the Irish Republican Army, supporting widespread terror during the Troubles.

This song advocates the former point of view. Sands, who died participating in the 1981 hunger strike to protest the British government’s refusal to grant political prisoner status to IRA inmates, embodied resistance, dignity and a willingness to die for his deeply held convictions. “We are not criminals, but Irishmen! This is the crime of which we stand accused,” Sands asserted during his last days. His election to the British Parliament during that strike amplified his symbolic power; his death was seen as the ultimate act of sacrifice for Irish self-determination.

The lyrics are to “I Remember Bobby Sands” oscillate between being reverent and defiant. They are conviction-driven and unwavering in anger. And at the same time, the song is also humanizing a man who for many is only a name in history books, revealing personal moments (mentions of his mother, tea, church bells, a pint and a guitar.) What carries the track into something transcendent is its musical architecture. Emantian and Chris Gil (guitar) establish a repeating, tightly wound progression on their guitars that gradually builds the tempo. Over this, Eileen Markland (violin) adds expressive phrases that act as emotional counterweight. And Tom Doland (bass) remains steady, reinforcing the song’s rhythmic drive. This layered effort builds intensity that tracks the vocal phrasing and emotional trajectory.

No matter what side you stand on in regard to the Troubles, you may never forget this ‘Bobby Sands.’

The lyrics:

I dreamed the moon dancing in your prison cell
I dreamed the ocean and the air
I dreamed of the full green fields of Ireland
Without the British jackboots there

I dreamed your mama calling you to the breakfast table
For your morning spot of tea
I dreamed the bell ringing down St. Agnes church
You the saying the rosaries on your knees

And you were praying
This will never be their land
Goddamn England, goddamn
What’s the measure of a man?
I remember Bobby Sands

I dreamed you’re drinking down at Halligan’s
I dreamed you’re playing your guitar
I dreamed your arrested by the RUC
They planted evidence in your car

This will never be their land
Goddamn England, goddamn
What’s the measure of a man?
I remember Bobby Sands

I dreamed your H-block prison helI
I dreamed of your torment and your bones
I dreamed your slipping off to your final state
While you’re dreaming of your home
Your home
Your home

This will never be their land
Goddam England, goddamn
What’s the measure of a man?
I remember Bobby Sands

This will never be their land
Goddamn England, goddamn
What’s the measure of a man?
I remember Bobby Sands
I remember Bobby Sands
I remember Bobby Sands
I remember Bobby Sands

In the area around Falls Road in Belfast, murals associated with Republican causes venerate key events such as the 1981 hunger strikes and the 1916 Easter Rising, as well as individuals such as Bobby Sands. (Jim Murphy photo)

Kilashandra’s “I Remember Bobby Sands” on Spotify:

Kilashandra’s “I Remember Bobby Sands” on Apple Music (link)

Below: Kilashandra’s “I Remember Bobby Sands,” performed March 28, 2026 at The Parting Glass in Saratoga Springs, N.Y. (Jim Murphy video)

Images from Higher Ground, Sept. 30, 2025. (Jim Murphy photos)

Today’s date is 5/02, so let’s celebrate The 502s!

If the name rings a bell, consider this a reminder of how remarkable this band is. If not, consider this introduction long overdue.

For the uninitiated, you won’t find The 502s strength in poetic ambition. You’ll find it in how effortlessly they generate joy on record – every song is an earworm – and especially on stage, where the band’s contagious energy and exuberance just might be unrivaled.

Let’s start with something as simple as song titles:
“Summertime Singalong Vibe”
“If Good Times Were Dollars”
“Your Nonsense Makes Sense”
Catch my drift?

Or lyrics, say to “Skinny Dippings and Mimosas.” An excerpt:

Just let me know when you’re ready to go
We can turn the keys and head towards the coast
I wanna pack the cooler
But forget our clothes

Skinny dipping and mimosas, you and me
Go together like the ocean and the breeze
I’ve been all around the world
Honey all I need
Is skinny dipping and mimosas, you and me

The vibe comes through even in the absence of a melody. This is carefree, sunlit pop with an emphasis on FUN. Expect music that is the soundtrack to a great time.

Need uplifting?
The catalogue will bulldoze you to a better mood.

Craving the full effect?
See them live. Sing along and stay upright; sitting isn’t part of the deal.

Who are The 502s?
In their words: “The 502s are a beach folk band from Florida, often called ‘The happiest band on Earth.’ With breezy banjos, shout-along choruses, and an energy that bursts like a cannonball into a swimming pool, their music feels like sunshine you can dance to.”

So start dancing.

The 502s “Summer Fling” on YouTube:

What raised eyebrows wasn’t just the possibility of consolidation, but what it portends: executives at both companies appear to believe the future of their businesses lies less in traditional broadcast radio and more in on-demand audio, particularly podcasts. That shift carries obvious implications for the hundreds of on-air personalities across iHeart’s 860 stations and SiriusXM’s channels.

If the merger talks hint at where the industry is headed, what’s already happening on SiriusXM offers a glimpse of the consequences. On April 26, the host of the satellite channel’s “Celtic Crush with Larry Kirwan” announced to listeners that he was told earlier in the month that his Irish music show would move from weekly to monthly. Kirwan processed the change for his audience over the next three hours, expressing a range of emotions that could be described at different times as melancholic and apprehensive, but also optimistic.

Larry Kirwan of Black 47 tuning up before a St. Patrick’s Day gig in 2007. (Courtesy of Black 47)

He opened the show by noting the show’s 21st anniversary. “I am finally coming of age,” he said, before pivoting: “Today’s show is going to be the most important one you have ever heard here.” He reported that during a brief call earlier in the month an executive had delivered news he said was “very professional and to the point” about a change, but also it was “a lot to take in.

“The reason is there’s cost-cutting going on through all the channels,” he said he was told. “I am not the only one who is getting cut back.”

It was Kirwan who also pointed out that his show’s history is emblematic of the evolution in the industry. “Radio is a tough business. It’s always been that way.” He traced Celtic Crush satellite radio history from its early run on “The Globe” on XM Satellite Radio in 2005, to “Disorder” (also on XM), to “The Loft” on the merged SiriusXM platform, which was moved to online-only in 2018. Through each shift, the constant has been adaptation by both the host and listeners.

He expressed genuine gratitude that Celtic Crush would remain on the air. “Usually when you get word like this it’s ‘you’re out’ and ‘don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.’ But in this case, we’re still here. That’s the most important thing.

“Once I got over the shock, I am optimistic,” he added.

His audience was less so. One wrote on social media, “A multimedia corporation with $8.56B of 2025 Revenue and $0.8B of net income and they are reducing a coveted 3-hour weekly radio program’s new airtime from 156 hours per year to 36 hours per year? I don’t get it.”

There is certainly the feeling that Celtic Crush is more than a radio show among many of the roughly 6,000-plus followers in a Facebook group dedicated to the show.

“I have looked forward to my Celtic Crush family weekly for well over a decade, closer to 15 years. Doing this to Larry is more than just business. It is so much more than a radio show,” wrote one listener. Another, “Celtic Crush is one of the rare shows on SiriusXM that feels genuinely irreplaceable. It’s not just a playlist. It’s Larry’s voice, knowledge, humor, storytelling, history, personality, and musical taste all working together in a way that gives the show its own soul.”

That description underscores Kirwan’s ability to hold a myriad of conversations with his radio audience. Born in County Wexford, Ireland, he emigrated to New York City in the 1970s and rose to prominence as the founder and frontman of the influential Celtic rock band Black 47. Through the band’s blend of traditional Irish sounds and contemporary rock, they explored themes of immigration, identity and social justice.

Beyond music and radio, he built a respected career as a journalist, cultural commentator and playwright. He has written a weekly column for The Irish Echo since 2007 and his writing has appeared in The New York Times, Irish America and elsewhere. His three novels, a memoir and a book on the history of Irish music reflect a transatlantic perspective, while his plays have been staged in New York and elsewhere. He earned a Tony Award nomination for “Paradise Square,” a Broadway musical about conflict between Irish and Black Americans in the Five Points neighborhood of New York City in 1863.

Thoughts of calling it quits
That sense of community weighed heavily in Kirwan’s own decision about whether to continue. His first instinct, he admitted, was perhaps it might be time to walk away. “But then all the memories started flooding back.

“The first letter I ever got about the show was a guy from the south side of Chicago,” he shared. “He moved up to Wisconsin. His name was Charlie McConaughey.” The letter writer said, “‘I get up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning … I put my clothes on and I put my soft cap on,’” explaining “‘the cap is my memories because all of the music you are playing is bringing back memories of my life. And I have a little glass of whiskey and over the course of the three hours I live with my memories and that’s important because your memories are you.’”

Another listener “early on” asked Kirwan, “Can you write a letter to my wife for me because she thinks I am having an affair because I get up at 6 o’clock in the morning and I drive around in my car listening to Celtic Crush? She can’t believe I would do that.” And Kirwan did pen the letter.

“So, there are bittersweet memories that you get,” he continued. “This show has brought me so many wonderful memories. But in the end, I decided to carry on for three reasons.”

He stretched relaying those reasons out during the remainder of the show.

Why Kirwan decided to continue
As an old Irish proverb suggests, Kirwan is counting his joys instead of his woes.

“The first reason why is because this show is important. It tells the stories of the Celtic people, the stories of our songs, our music, our dancing, stories of various religions and what keeps us together. It talks about the awful things that happened to the Celts, the famine, the great hunger. So many Irish-Americans happen to be in this country because so many arrived 1845 to 1860, fleeing famine and degradation and coming here and making a new life. We celebrate that.”

He continued, “And it also talks about the Scottish highland clearances where the highlanders were cleared off their land because sheep were more profitable so that is how many Scottish people came to this country. We talk about the Welsh struggle to keep their language, how the Welsh arrived here and the Britons and the Galicians, eventually came to his country so … we tell the story of our people through this show. Through the music we play here we bring back the feeling of what it is to be Irish, Scottish or Welsh or whatever a Celtic person you are.

“The second reason is the music, the bands, all of the bands we have been responsible for breaking here or popularizing. Take Fontaines DC. Nobody even in Ireland had heard about that band before I started playing “The Boys in the Better Land.” They sent it to me out of the blue. They sound like a modern-day Clash with a Dublin accent and their own stories. And I played them to hell and now they are going to be one of the biggest bands in America. And there are also people like Seán Ó Riada.

“Other people play Ó Riada but not to the same degree. The credit I give him as being the father of modern Irish music. And you guys voted for him last year when his track “Aisling Gheal” came in at number three (on an annual Celtic Crush Top 100 Irish Songs poll) after the two Pogues songs who were going to win anyway because Shane (MacGowan) is so popular and had just died. But to be the third most popular piece of Irish music, that’s pretty wild. But then there is also people like Lisa O’Neil, Imelda May and of late, Kingfishr and Amble and Chasing Abby and Moxie.

“If we don’t do this show we don’t carry on. That link (in America) with Ireland and Scotland is going to end. It’s important that the music stays alive and the music is under pressure because the bands are under pressure. Bands can’t really make a living anymore since streaming came in. It’s an unavoidable fact. And immigration laws are such that is hard to get visas to get into (the U.S.) and it’s hard to tour the country. You have to pay up a lot of money ahead of time to actually get a visa. So we are keeping that spirit of the music alive here.

“The third reason is you. You people who listen to the show and write to me … there are just so many of you that I have known through the years coming to Black 47 gigs, when we travel together and I watch you and I see what a great society we have … It reminds me of where I grew up in Wexford. It was a very different time and there was no television or internet. So, they were chatty and knew each other and looked after each other’s children on the street. It was a community and we have built this Celtic Crush community and it is a great combat against loneliness for one thing.

“By being a member of this very open society we have, we take all comers,” he continued. “You don’t have to be Celtic or anything like that. You just have to feel Celtic and if we didn’t have that we would all disappear back into our own little cliques or societies or whatever. But we have this community that stretches across the world and we look out for each other. If we didn’t have Celtic Crush the world we be that much a sorrier place, so that is the most important reason to go on. You.”

Fittingly, Kirwan followed that sentiment by sending a message to his audience, playing Van Morrison’s “Have I Told You Lately?” The refrain:

Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there’s no one else above you
You fill my heart with gladness
Take away all my sadness
Ease my troubles, that’s what you do

Facing the future at Celtic Crush
In a Facebook Celtic Crush group, members have suggested a variety of actions: An email/snail mail campaign to ask executives to reconsider, calls to Kirwan to transition the show to a podcast, and canceling subscriptions among them. Kirwan pleads everyone to hang in there.

”Please keep listening to our upcoming once a month show,” he commented. “I’ve always considered myself lucky… I feel things will get better as we go along.”

My sense of it all
What Kirwan articulated more clearly than any analyst could, is the part of the audio business that doesn’t show up on a balance sheet. The artists who are still managing to sustain careers today are often doing so not just through their music, but through their ability to build community in multiple ways. The outcome is shared identity and emotional investment; fans give back with all kinds of support because they feel part of something.

The same dynamic applies to radio. It’s difficult to find passionate fans of SiriusXM as a product. But there are thousands who are deeply loyal to SiriusXM hosts such as Meg Griffin, Little Steven Van Zandt, David Fricke and Buzz Brainard, because these individuals create a sense of connection that algorithms and curated playlists cannot.

That connection has value, driving and maintaining subscriptions, sustaining engagement. It differentiates satellite radio from the very streaming platforms it now seems intent on emulating. Which makes the broader shift all the more puzzling.

As something of a melomaniac, I can also tell you how dispiriting it is to hear so much repetition on some of the Sirius XM channels like the Spectrum. I’ve discovered some favorite new artists over the years on the Spectrum such as Noah Kahan and Caamp but the over-reliance on a tight playlist is mind-numbing. There are so many artists that deserve the spotlight of a channel like Spectrum. Rotate Mumford & Son a little less and give us some Amble. Love you’re playing Buffalo Track Jam but how about a few spins of Sons of Habit? Nonetheless, with Kirwan, Griffin and others responsible for bits of airspace here and there on SiriusXM, and only because of them, there is any diversity that many subscribers hunger for.

Channels often positioned as discovery engines feel increasingly interchangeable with Spotify or Apple Music, only with less control by the user. If cost-cutting and consolidation come at the expense of that kind of programming, the industry may be addressing the wrong problem. Because what SiriusXM risks losing isn’t just niche shows. It’s communities that make many of its channels matter. And those are far harder to rebuild than a playlist.

Don’t pass this up …
Kirwan writes an informative e-newsletter on all things Celtic – not just music but books, movies, essays and more – and it’s free. Reach out to him at blk47@aol.com to subscribe.

This is the first in an occasional series exploring how faith finds its way into popular music.

I have to start by stating that Bradley Rhodes is a musician that belongs in rare company. His voice invites comparison to other artists with distinctive, powerful instruments such as Paul Rodgers (Free, Bad Company, The Firm), Chris Cornell (Soundgarden, Audioslave) and Brent Smith (Shinedown). Though he hasn’t enjoyed the same spotlight, his 17 years with the band Melodime demonstrated he has stadium-caliber chops even while the band was relegated to smaller venues.

To fans who enjoyed Melodime’s mainstream rock on a sensory or performance level, they likely didn’t notice the Christian references in the band’s seven studio releases (some of which are only available through Bandcamp). One early reviewer described the band at a 2009 show as “a funk, soul, folk, blues, pop-rock tidal wave that rocks as hard as any seasoned club band, but comes off as a casual garage band.”

But if an album title like 2013’s “Where the Sinners & the Saints Collide” wasn’t transparent enough, perhaps lyrics in songs such as “Halo” offered a clue:

A broken spell, a conquered hell
I’m building kingdoms now from this abandoned town
A severed will restored and filled
With help from the angels, I can fly now
I start again

I lift my head just like you said
I dust off my halo
I feel the beat beneath my feet
And I hear the echo

Spirituality in Melodime ran deep: The other members in the original line-up – Sammy and Tyler Duis – are sons of a pastor.

Bradley Rhodes performing with Melodime at a reunion show Jan. 29, 2026 on The Rock Boat. (Jim Murphy photo)

“Sam and Ty’s dad was a preacher. We rehearsed in the church he preached at where they grew up,” he said in an interview. “At the same time, I was leading worship at my church and so we would lead worship at churches together and do some events for youth or (other) church events.

“A majority of the inspiration (for music) has come from my faith,” he added. “A lot of it being just kind of wrestling with things that feel like they don’t fit. Music has been my way to navigate all of that stuff and let what feels really true come out, whether I am writing a song or performing a song it’s just a state of catharsis. The music really comes to from what I refer to as the soul. So, trying to get out of my thinking mind as much as possible and let the songs flow from that place.”

Melodime disbanded in March 2022 and he soon formed the duo Elevado with Brent Shuttleworth; together they recorded one album. Today, Rhodes is a solo artist and his latest release from 2024, “Letter From Virginia,” is loaded with religious references, particularly on gospel music sounding “Mary’s Hymn.”

Opening lyrics:

There is no sin
Heaven is here
No matter where you have been
All can come in
And shine through our tears
No power outside
The truth is within

These lines establish a clear departure from traditional Christian teachings, expressing that holiness isn’t dictated by traditional doctrine, but rather it is discovered within.

The next lines suggest a meditative approach to finding truth:

Quiet your mind
Let go of time
And move with the wind

And subsequent lines challenge traditional perspectives on Mary Magdalene, a key figure in early Christianity, suggesting her story hasn’t been accurately told:

Oh Mary, may we all learn the sound of your song
You've been silenced and slandered too long
But we need you now more than ever before

Spiritual music, not sermons and Sunday school, informed Bradley’s spiritual awakening early in life.

”As someone who grew up going to a Baptist church, one thing I realized as I got older is that I really experienced God as a frequency more than as a dogma or doctrine,” he told me. “So, it was the music that really appealed to me, and made my heart open up, gave me chills, and I could really feel that.

“But when it came to the Scriptures and other things in my upbringing there were always questions there, things that they didn’t really quite fit,” he added.

What did “fit” was the author Meggan Watterson’s book, “Mary Magdalene Revealed,” an exploration of the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, an early Christian text that reports visions and teachings she received from the risen Jesus. Rhodes read this at the time he was writing “Letters From Virginia.”

“The bridge of the song continues to say, ‘Won’t you show us what’s been hidden,’ which is a line of scripture from the Gospel of Mary. I think the thing that is so inspiring for me is that she’s teaching that all of this is within us,” he said. “This isn’t an external thing, our salvation, all of these rules that we feel we need to live by in order to be quote, unquote good, I perceived as being something external, something I had had to achieve… This isn’t something that we just have to achieve, we just have to get quiet.”

Rhodes said the remainder of his song “just lift off my favorite parts of the Scripture, how it opens with ‘there is no sin.’ Which was so powerful for me to read because I have lived with a lot of shame through my Christian upbringing. This freedom from we’re not inherently bad when it comes to original sin, that was something that never resonated with me.

“This Gospel and this story of Mary was something allowed me to hold on to everything that felt good and true with my Christian upbringing, and then slowly let the other parts unravel.”

The remainder of the lyrics:

You carried the weight
Of fury and shame
And you made the choice
To raise your shaky voice and love anyway
Fierce and untamed
Wild and free
Spirit inflamed, power reclaimed
By the soul of a queen

Oh Mary, may we all learn the sound of your song
You've been silenced and slandered too long
But we need you now more than ever
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Won't you show us what's been hidden
Ohhhhh
Ohhhhh

Oh Mary, may we all learn the sound of your song
You've been silenced and slandered too long
But we need you now more than ever

What’s next for Rhodes musically? “That’s been something I’ve been asking myself lately,” he responded.

His life is at a crossroads: He took his first job ever outside of music – in sales – a year ago. He’s engaged to be married in June. And he moved from northern Virginia to Richmond. He’s writing less because of those developments but is looking for how to incorporate music into his new life.

“I feel like the songs I am writing are coming from a really different place right now. The themes of a lot of them are about being in that liminal in-between space; not quite knowing what is next but just being patient and trusting the process.

“I know there is something next,” he continued. “I am not sure when it’s going to be or what it looks like, but I am excited to eventually record some of these songs and continue to playing shows, not as frequently as I had been when it was my full-time job. … I’m not too clear on what’s to come but I am just being patient for the whole thing.”

“Mary’s Hymn” by Bradley Rhodes on Substack:

“Mary’s Hymn” by Bradley Rhodes on Apple Music (link)

“Mary’s Hymn” by Bradley Rhodes on YouTube:

Indie rock artist Michigander once described his song “Letterman” as being about “growing up and coming to terms with the world changing around you.” The song came on in my car yesterday and I started reminiscing about how that idea traces back over 45 years to a then-fledgling late night host and a small newsroom in Wellsville, N.Y.

The “world changing” sentiment certainly resonates with me today in a number of ways. But it is symbolic within the origin story behind one of David Letterman’s best-known recurring bits on his late-night show on NBC.

I was a reporter at the Wellsville Daily Reporter when, on an Indian summer day in 1982, my then-editor Matt Leone and I were sitting around musing about how people from small towns enjoy telling stories about famous people they, or their friends and family, have met. We shared a few stories, elicited more from staff, and Matt, being a columnist at the time, wrote them down and published them in the paper. This created what today we would call great water cooler talk. And, in an era before office water coolers replaced the drinking fountain, in a town where most days were slow news days and the only famous former resident was a semi-pro baseball player-turned-actor named Gabby Hayes, sidekick to leading actors in a number of Western movies including Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, we made the most of it.

We invited readers to send in their tales for publication, too. We called the two-part series “Touched by Greatness.” Matt, a serious news guy who nonetheless enjoyed these types of features immensely, sent our efforts off to journalism school buddies working in Ithaca and Rochester, and they in turn decided to publish similar efforts in their newspapers that fall. The idea really gathered steam in those larger markets with many reader contributions; the one that has stayed with me all these years was a reader who told the Rochester paper he was living in California in the 1950s when his dog urinated on the leg of a man who went on to be the 37th U.S. president, Richard Nixon.

Fall turned to winter and it all might have been forgotten about if a staffer from the then-fledgling “Late Night with David Letterman” show on NBC hadn’t called Matt and told him they saw the Ithaca incarnation of “Touched by Greatness,” had called the paper, and editors there credited us with the idea. A few questions were asked of Matt and then he was told when a segment inspired by us would air, and that we might get a shout out. A group of us gathered past our bed times and watched. There was no on-air mention but it was fun seeing our idea on live TV. The skit might have been relegated to the back of our minds if Letterman hadn’t added what he dubbed “Brushed by Greatness” to his rotation of ongoing routines, and the repeat exposure inspired many morning AM radio shows to make it a programming staple. For the rest of the decade it seemed at least one call-in show in every city was soliciting listener “greatness” anecdotes over the airwaves.

Ironically, the routine reached popularity at the same time entertainment news emerged. The success of the syndicated “Entertainment Tonight,” just a year old when “greatness” debuted, would spawn the era of the paparazzi and ensure that Andy Warhol’s prediction that “everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes” would come true. These developments also ensured the “greatness” idea would be quaint within a decade. Before long the average household evolved from getting just three TV channels to more than 100, and today access to seemingly limitless content. A few clever minutes online can reach millions, or an episode or two on reality TV can turn anonymity into recognition.

And that’s just television. More authors do more book tours to U.S. cities today, more businesspeople become celebs via the growth in business reporting and event marketing, and there has been a proliferation of “experts” in politics and virtually every segment of culture to fill airtime on around-the-clock broadcast news outlets. Even rock acts such as John Mayer and Sister Hazel, as well as Broadway and World Wrestling Federation stars, spend a few days among fans on cruise ships, while lesser luminaries schlock merchandise and photos at festivals of all tsripes including sci-fi, sports and film . So, everyone who has yet to be famous is tripping over someone who is, and is posting about it on social media.

My entire 15 minutes is still on the clock. The Letterman connection never produced so much as two tickets to sit in the show’s audience despite my trying to snag some through the show’s lottery process every time I headed to New York over the years. And, for a long time, I was also been the odd man out in swapping “Touched by Greatness” stories. At the time of original incarnation back in Wellsville, I had met no one famous except a few athletes including Joe Namath at a football camp I attended, and I didn’t think those counted because of the circumstances. (I did have a few stories about folks such as Babe Ruth and former speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives Sam Rayburn which my parents contributed.) Since then, like everyone else, I have a fair amount of tales to share: from interviewing a sitting a U.S. president to riding an elevator with rapper-actor-model Queen Latifah to watching a first cousin on TV who was a finalist on one of the earliest reality shows, Fox TV’s “Married By America.” (His brother much more recently had a small role on one episode of “Stranger Things.”)

So, back to Michigander – the moniker for solo artist Jason Michael Singer – and his “Letterman” song:

Well, things always change
Don’t have to fight it, you just might like it
Things always change
I don’t mind it, I kind of like it

When Matt and I sat around that newsroom in Wellsville in 1982, “greatness” felt distant enough to be worth cataloging. It was something most of us brushed up against once, maybe twice, and told stories about for years. It was rare and a little mysterious. Today, even Wellsville has more stories to tell. The indie rock band Wrecks sprung out of that town, and coincidentally frontman Nick Anderson is the son of another former Wellsville Daily Reporter editor, John Anderson. Now the distance between the famous and the rest of us has collapsed to the length of a swipe, a scroll or a quick selfie w/ a “star” after a show. “Brushed (or touched) by greatness” isn’t a rare phenomenon; it’s an almost daily occurrence in our social media “friends” circle.

But looking back … I got to see a small-town newspaper idea make its way to David Letterman and quietly become part of the culture. Stories mattered then. They still do now. Only the definition of “greatness” has evolved.

Things always change. I don’t mind it. I kind of like it.

Footnote: Follow Michigander on Substack.

Michigander’s “Letterman” on Spotify:

Michigander’s “Letterman on Apple Music (link).

Michigander’s “Letterman” on YouTube:

Excerpt – full lyrics at end of the article

Hey, hey girl,
I am wondering when will it be
That we will both feel the need to be free
You and me leading separate lives
Surely never

And girl, when we’re both getting older and gray
Will you smile and look back on this day?
Will you say I’m okay and love me forever?

Imagine me
Without you
Anymore
Girl I know you belong to me
And you know
I am yours
Now I find I just can’t imagine me without you
Anymore

If you grew up within range of a truly progressive FM station in the 1970s, you heard an eclectic mix of music—some of which never made the jump to modern streaming platforms after Apple’s iTunes began reshaping the industry in 2003.

In recent years I’ve witnessed a number of releases that were long unavailable anywhere finally appear on Spotify and Apple Music. One notable exception that remains absent from those platforms is the self-titled LP/cassette by Screams.

If you weren’t dialed into the American punk rock and power pop scene in the late 1970s, it would have been easy to miss them. Formed in 1976 in Champaign-Urbana, Ill., Screams quickly built momentum, opening for punk heavyweights like The Ramones and Iggy Pop. By 1979, their sound had evolved, leaning closer to mainstream melodic rock, culminating in a standout self-titled album on Infinity/MCA. Think Midwesterner punk crafted to strike a chord with radio listeners. That same year they supported Van Halen for 44 dates on their first headlining U.S. tour.

I discovered the band at that time on one of those progressive radio stations, WOUR 96.9 in Utica, N.Y., which aired “Imagine Me Without You.” And about the same time I had a chance to see them headline at a popular nightclub in Syracuse, Uncle Sam’s. They delivered an electrifying punch live – something akin to early Cheap Trick – and frontman David Adams channeled a bit of Roger Daltrey with his commanding presence. I was certain they would make it big.

Their ascent in the industry was rapid, their descent was swifter. Undone by bad timing and music industry upheaval, they found themselves stranded at the end of a successful U.K. tour without label support for a rumored nearly completed second album.

Though they split on New Year’s Eve in 1980, the talent didn’t fade. Drummer Brad Steakley went on to form the power-pop staple The Elvis Brothers (as Brad Elvis) the next year, and later spent 16 years with The Romantics. Guitarist and vocalist John Siegle moved to Chicago and found success with The Insiders. Adams and bassist Steve Jones continued with their own solo and band projects; Adams passed away in 2020.

For fans of Cheap Trick, Bram Tchaikovsky and Material Issue, the Screams’ “Imagine Me Without You” – written by Adams – is a lost classic worthy of your playlist. And it is worth adding that the entire debut is packed with radio-ready material from start to finish.

An unexpected second act

First a self-deprecating story about writing this piece, and then an unexpected announcement from a member of Screams.

When I started working on this piece I found that no lyrics to this song appear anywhere on the Internet … and there are a couple lines early in the song I was able to unable to decipher. So I reached out to Steakley, the Screams drummer who rechristened himself Brad Elvis when he joined The Elvis Brothers in 1981, and he said he could try to help but that the lyrics were printed on the record sleeve. And yes, my copy was sitting on a shelf three feet behind me. 🤷

So once the transcription problem was solved, Steakley/Elvis and I messaged back-and-forth on some other things and I learned that a treasure trove of tracks – two albums worth – had been recorded but never mixed or sequenced until last year. A CD release of these songs is due this year and perhaps a live recording and an additional studio release afterwards.

Finally, that one passage I had trouble transcribing? Once I had the words in front of me … well, I had no idea what Adams was writing about. So I reached out to Steakley/Elvis and he replied, “I'm not sure what it means either!” (Reader: If you have an idea what lines nine and 10 mean in the lyrics below, leave it in the comments section.)

“Imagine Me Without You” audio track

Perhaps 15 or more years ago, I downloaded the album from one of the band members; I believe it sat on a server for an ad agency. To this date it is still not on the major streaming sites so I am putting this track here to listen to and download.

Enjoy Screams’ “Imagine Me Without You”:

And here is Screams’ “Imagine Me Without You” on YouTube:

Lyrics - “Imagine Me Without You”

Imagine me
Seen around on the town all alone
There is no reason for me to be home
No one there, I shouldn’t care
I’ll find a chair and keep on drinking

Or you
Unaware that I am even alive
Got to make that appointment at five
In the yard
Man it’s hard even thinking about it.

Imagine me
Without you
Anymore
Girl, I know you belong to me
And I know, that I am yours
And now I find I just can’t
Imagine me without you
Anymore

Hey, hey girl,
I am wondering when will it be
That we will both feel the need to be free
You and me leading separate lives
Surely never

And girl, when we’re both getting older and gray
Will you smile and look back on this day?
Will you say I’m okay and love me forever?

Imagine me
(Imagine me)
Without you
(Without you)
Anymore
(Anymore)
Girl I know you belong to me
(Imagine me)
And you know
(Without you)
I am yours
(Anymore)
Now I find I just can’t imagine me without you
Anymore

(Long bridge)

Imagine me
Without you
Anymore
Girl I know you belong to me
And you know
I am yours
I just can’t
Imagine me
(Imagine me)
Without you
(Without you)
Anymore

I can’t
Imagine me
(Imagine me)
Without you
Anymore
(Anymore)

Imagine me
(Imagine me)
Without you
(Without you)
Anymore
(Anymore)
Girl you know I can’t imagine me
Imagine me
(Without you)
Without you
Oh, no
(Anymore)
No, no, no
I just can’t imagine me without you
Anymore

“Mary’s Prayer” by the band Danny Wilson, a hit in the U.K. and U.S. in the late 1980s, is just one of many songs devoted to a girl named Mary. In fact, there may be more popular music songs with Mary as a character than any other name.

Mary might be the most enduring muse in music history. Long before pop charts, Franz Schubert gave us “Ave Maria” in 1825. Artists have been returning to the name ever since.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve noticed just how often the name Mary appears in songs on my digital playlists. Scattered among the occasional Amy, Heather or Judy, and no matter the genre, she’s always there. Of course, my marrying a woman named Mary likely tipped the scales. 😉

Certainly there are many Mary song by artists such as Tom Petty and Jimi Hendrix that are not here … but I wasn’t targeting the best-known. Here are seven of my favorites.

In alpha order by artist:

“Mary’s Pub” – Amble

This bittersweet Dublin love story by folk rockers Amble chronicles a couple’s emotional intimacy as they drift through a single evening featuring buskers, discreet advances and late-night pints. It’s as much about memory as it is about romance.

The chorus repeats throughout the song:

And when I think of you I know forever I will be
Happy as the fool because together we are free

Some evenings, no matter how brief … remain with us always.

“Mary’s Pub” by Amble on Spotify:

“Mary’s Pub” by Amble on Apple Music (link)

“Mary’s Pub” by Amble on YouTube:

“Mary, Mary” – American Aquarium

Not to be confused with a better known song with the same name, recorded by The Monkees among others.

If I had to characterize American Aquarium’s delivery I would say it could fit nicely on a Stephen Kellogg album. And frontman BJ Barham’s lyrics here? They fall somewhere between the styles of Bruce Springsteen and Kellogg … two songwriters I admire. So he’s in good company and this song – falling squarely under the broad umbrella of Americana music – is worthy of attention.

The lyrics:

Well she walks into a room and the boys all stare
Those pencil pink lips and her honeysuckle hair
I caught her shooting eyes in the rear-view mirror
Sayin' let's go swimmin' in our underwear

Oh Mary, Mary full of grace
What do you say we blow this place?
What good is a god if you ain't got faith?
What good is a god when you can't be
When you can't be saved?

I could tell she's trouble from the very start
So I bit my tongue and I played my part
Sex and love, I can't keep 'em apart
Walked in with my attention walked out with my heart

She's into kissing boys, she's into playing games
Got two different faces and three first names
She'll argue the difference 'tween pot and cocaine
But the drugs are like the girls, it's damage all the same

Oh Mary, Mary full of grace
What do you say we blow this place?
What good is a god if you ain't got faith?
What good is a god when you can't be
When you can't be saved?

This artist’s Mary is messy. There is unresolved tension. Unanswered questions. It’s the kind of song that sticks with you longer than it should.

American Aquarium’s “Mary, Mary” on Spotify:

American Aquarium’s “Mary, Mary” on Apple Music (link)
American Aquarium’s “Mary, Mary” on YouTube:

“Mary’s Prayer” – Danny Wilson

There’s a strain here between what’s said and what’s heard in Danny Wilson’s song. Gary Clark (the songwriter and band’s vocalist) has downplayed the religious symbolism in interviews. But whether you interpret faith, fate or heartbreak in the lyrics, the song accommodates it.

For me, its appeal has always been the simple melodic line, supported by a warm, polished arrangement that places it squarely in the soft rock genre.

Excerpt:

I used to be so careless
As if I couldn’t care less
Did I have to make this mess
When I was Mary’s prayer?

Suddenly the heavens roared
Suddenly the rain came down
Suddenly was washed away
The Mary that I knew

So when you find somebody you keep
Think of me and celebrate
I made such a big mistake
When I was Mary’s prayer

For me, this Mary is more feeling than substance.

“Mary’s Prayer” by Danny Wilson on Spotify:

“Mary’s Prayer” by Danny Wilson on Apple Music (link)

“Mary’s Prayer” by Danny Wilson on YouTube:

“Merry Go ‘Round” – Kacey Musgraves

This an account of a woman named Mary whose name is used as wordplay to draw you into the narrative. Mary’s adrift, afraid she will die alone, and so she marries young.

We think the first time’s good enough
So, we hold on to high school love

She has become self-aware that she is drifting without purpose through life. And so, apparently, she recognizes the same in those around her:

’Cause mama’s hooked on Mary Kay
Brother’s hooked on Mary Jane
And Daddy’s hooked on Mary two doors down
Mary, Mary, quite contrary
We get bored, so, we get married
Just like dust, we settle in this town
On this broken merry go ‘round

Written by Musgraves, Shane McAnnally and Josh Osborne for the artist’s debut release, the album title – borrowed from a passage in this song – says it all:

Same trailer, different park

I can’t think of a song that better captures the feeling of hopelessness in a humble setting, one where there is little prospect for overcoming life’s obstacles. The song concludes:

Jack and Jill went up the hill
Jack burned out on booze and pills
And Mary had a little lamb
Mary just don't give a damn no more

A quietly devastating portrait of small-town inertia, “Merry Go ‘Round” leaves Mary and everyone around her traveling the same inescapable path where dreams fade, choices narrow and time slips away.

“Merry Go ‘Round” by Kacey Musgraves on Spotify:

“Merry Go ‘Round” by Kacey Musgraves on Apple Music (link)

“Merry Go ‘Round” by Kacey Musgraves on YouTube:

“Step It Out Mary” – Screaming Orphans

I’ve had the chance to see the Screaming Orphans perform this traditional Irish song live many times over the years. So the lyrics comes with a memory of the four Diver sisters’ floor-stomping rhythm underlying a somber tale of a forced marriage and doomed love.

Mary tells dad:

I don’t want your gold and silver
I don’t want your house and land
I’m going with the soldier
I have promised him my hand

Her father rebuts:

You will do as I command
You’ll get married now on a Sunday
And you’ll wear that wedding band

I won’t giveaway the shocker in the final verse but as you might expect in an Irish tale, it is far from joyful. Mary steps it out in a most unforeseen way.

Screaming Orphans’ “Step It Out Mary” on Spotify:

Screaming Orphans’ “Step It Out Mary” on Apple Music (link)

Screaming Orphans’ “Step It Out Mary” live on YouTube:

“Have You Seen Mary” – Sponge

Sponge’s Mary is lonely and despondent. She’s tormented by how the men in her life have treated her.

The storyteller asks:

Will she always feel so all alone?
Why was there never a man in her home?

And she questions:

And will I end up like my mother?
By myself with no other

It’s not clear why the narrator doesn’t intervene, instead of asking over-and-over:

If you see Mary, please, will you help her?

In the end, this Billboard Mainstream Rock Tracks Top 10 song by the Detroit alt rockers – released 20 years ago this July – lands on a quiet indictment. The world is full of people aching to be seen, yet not enough of us are willing to do the seeing. Loneliness isn’t scarce. Compassion is.

“Have You Seen Mary” by Sponge on Spotify:

“Have You Seen Mary” by Sponge on Apple Music (link)

“Have You Seen Mary” by Sponge on YouTube:

“Mary, Mary” – The Monkees

Written by The Monkees’ Michael Nesmith, “Mary, Mary" was first recorded in 1966 by The Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Their version, as the band’s name might suggest, was bluesy. And the tempo, frankly sluggish.

Soon after, Micky Dolenz voiced a punchier version with The Monkees, one that made its appearance on five episodes of the band’s musical comedy TV show. The track found yet another life two decades later when Run-DMC reimagined it for a new generation.

Depending on your point of view … The Monkees’ version is:
a.) A classic ‘60s please-return-to-me pop anthem about a hopeless romantic hoping to reconcile with a woman who has left him?
b.) From a lens a half century into the future, the beat masks cringy lyrics that describe a lack of boundaries and suggest that this guy is an overbearing and maybe even a possessive stalker?
c.) Or somewhere in between?

You decide … here’s an excerpt:

Mary, Mary, where you goin' to?
Mary, Mary, can I go too
This one thing I will vow ya
I'd rather die than to live without ya

Mary, Mary, where you goin' to?

Mary, Mary, tell me truly
What did I do to make you leave me?
Whatever it was I didn't mean to
You know I never would try and hurt ya

Mary, Mary, where you goin' to?

So maybe “Mary, Mary” isn’t just a catchy tune. It’s a litmus test: Romantic or relentless? Sweet or suffocating?

The answer may change with the listener … and with time.

“Mary, Mary” by The Monkees on Spotify:

“Mary, Mary” by The Monkees on Apple Music (link)

“Mary, Mary” by The Monkees on YouTube:

This article was originally released on Dec. 31, 2025 on the author’s Facebook page.

I haven’t participated in compiling a “best of” year-end music list since my days writing for the Syracuse New Times. But while thinking today about some of my favorite music from 2025 … I decided compile a “favorites” list. And it is a revelation (that feels like a reminder) that a number of acts with connections my native upstate New York were top of mind.

FAVORITE ALBUMS OF 2025
Brian Dunne – “Clams Casino”
Narrative-driven and emotionally direct, Brian Dunne’s lyrics turn the weight of daily struggles into something quietly affirming. P.S. Dunne is one-quarter of Fantastic Cat, a terrific band whose classic rock vibe sound feels timeless rather than retro.

Charles Wesley Godwin – “Live From The Steel City”
By weaving together the best of three albums and two EPs into one live performance, Godwin proves he isn’t just following in the footsteps of Zach Bryan and Tyler Childers … he’s walking right beside them.

E.R.I.E. – “The Highs, The Lows, and Everything In Between”
While renown for blistering live sets, E.R.I.E.’s studio work captures that same kinetic indie-rock spirit with razor-sharp precision. This effort isn’t just a step forward; it’s a closing argument for why they deserve a much bigger stage.

The Half-Cubes – “Found Pearls Pop Treasures, Vol. 2”
One-half of The Flashcubes (Gary Frenay and Tommy Allen) collaborate with Mark Hudson (Hudson Brothers), Phil Solem (The Rembrandts) and others in a tribute to their favorite pop artists. A standout track is “I’ll Be Taking Her Out Tonight” … performed with Peter Noone, who originally sang it as the frontman for The Tremblers (a side gig to his Herman’s Hermits). Also see the Flashcubes entry below.

Michigander – “Michigander”
It took Jason Singer 14 years to record his debut album using this solo moniker but the payoff is remarkable. Extraordinary hook-laden alt pop from start to finish. You can also find Michigander here on Substack.

Mike Packard – “Mike Packard No. 4”
I wrote at the time of its release that this New York Capital Region artist’s Americana/folk release is a quiet stunner. “She Loves It When It Rains” should be in radio rotation. “Unopened” could sit comfortably next to the likes of Chris Stapleton or Dylan Gossett on your next road trip playlist.

Sons of Habit – “Nostalgia”
What the debut EP “Nostalgia” promises in reflection, it delivers in possibility for this indie rock act. The title track and “5:21” are standouts.

Stephen Kellogg – “To you, old friend”
After three decades and nearly 3,000 live performances, an artist might be forgiven for starting to run out of steam. Instead, Stephen Kellogg has delivered “To you, old friend,” a record that stands among his finest. It is a hauntingly vulnerable meditation on the ways time and distance fracture our oldest bonds. While Grammy-winner Lori McKenna lends her voice to the stirring opener “Old Friend,” it’s the second track, “The Waitress,” that provides the album’s emotional gut-punch. A stark retelling of a first love’s tragic life, the song serves as a jagged mirror for anyone trying to reconcile their past with the person they’ve become.

The Trews – “The Bloody Light”
This Ontario-based quintet delivers another high-energy, passionate release that once again puts the “rock is dead” narrative to rest.

Tops of Trees – “Do Something”
Just released on Dec. 11, this is a late entry. The first full-length album by this Saratoga Springs, N.Y. act serves a steady dose of soul-drenched grooves driven by a formidable horn line.

Various Artists – “Make Something Happen! A Tribute to the Flashcubes”
Further proof that the members of this Syracuse-based band were the unrivaled power pop craftsmen of the late 1970s. Featured artists include Mike Gent of The Figgs, Hamell on Trial, Graham Parker and Tom Kenny (the voice of SpongeBob SquarePants and other animated TV and film characters).

Wild Adriatic - “Wild Adriatic”
From the high-octane energy of opener “A Simple Thing” to the final notes of the closer “Voodoo Blues,” Wild Adriatic goes out at the top of their game. Their swan song is a powerful testament to a groove that was as deep as it was mighty. Echoing words from their track “Balderdash”: “Now we’re losing all the good ones … (this) leaves the world feeling sad.” Taking a stand against the streaming economic model that has broken many an artist, the band has – so far – made this a digital-purchase exclusive. Do the right thing: head to Bandcamp and own this piece of upstate New York music history.

SINGLES
Brandi Carlile – “War With Time”
We’re all fighting this battle … Brandi’s reminder that we’re here for only a brief time.

Jesse Welles – “Horses”
This Dylanesque singer-songwriter’s January release lived rent-free in my head for much of the year until September when I saw him accept the Spirit of Americana Free Speech Award (presented by John Fogerty) at the Americana Music Awards in Nashville. Then I listened more deeply to his catalogue and other of his songs crept in and pushed this one aside.

Sirsy - “Stupid Little Heart”
Melanie Kramer writes achingly, lovingly about her dad’s struggle with dementia with her husband Richard Libutti (guitar), guest violinist Corinna Smith (Adam Ezra Group) and pianist/production engineer Josh Gold at her side.

Sons of Habit – “Fools Good”
Conjured in the band’s trailer in Habit, Kentucky (created and released in August 2025 after the EP mentioned above), the single earned them a record contract and a gig at Americanfest the following month. Gotta admire this snippet of emotional whiplash:
I don’t wanna hear the truth
I don’t wanna spend one night
Laying next to someone new
Why the hell you’d let me in
If you’re just gonna let me go?

Trousdale – “Growing Pains”
Conjuring Wilson Phillips, this L.A. trio’s stature continued to grow this year with the buzz around the band’s second album and a series of dates supporting Maren Morris. While this country-tinged opening track of the album by the same title is radio perfect, it didn’t chart. (But you may have heard it at your local grocery store, as I did.)

Will Hoge – “Another Planet”
This prolific Nashville singer-songwriter lets loose on this one in a style reminiscent of some of my favorite 70’s heartland rockers.

Excerpt

I promised you the world again
Everything within my hands
All the riches one could dream
They will come from me

I hoped that you could understand
That this is not what I had planned
Please don’t worry now
It will turn around

‘Cause I need more time
Just a few more months and we’ll be fine
So say what’s on your mind
‘Cause I can’t figure out just what’s inside

I hoped that you could understand
That this is not what I had planned
Please don’t worry now
It will turn around

Sometimes the first song we fall in love with becomes a lens through which we see an entire band. It doesn’t matter if they go on to write bigger hits, win awards or fill amphitheaters. For me and the band NEEDTOBREATHE, that song is “More Time” from their 2007 album, “The Heat.”

What struck me immediately was how universal the song felt. The lyrics echo a conversation nearly all of us have had at some point with a significant other, parent, child, teacher, boss, business partner … or even ourselves. We’re not where we thought we’d be. We’ve overpromised. We’re scrambling. And yet we cling to a belief that things can still turn around. We just need more time. What sells that fragile hope is Bear Rinehart’s voice. There’s urgency, conviction and a sincerity that pulls you in and makes you believe him.

Maybe the song even represents a conversation the band was having internally and/or with its record label at the time. Its debut major label album a year earlier – following three independent EPs and one album – didn’t crack Billboard’s Top 200 chart. (“The Heat” would chart, barely at #163, but the band then would score five straight top 20 albums.)

NEEDTOBREATHE was founded in 1998 by brothers Bear and Bo Rinehart while at a South Carolina college. In an interview with American Songwriter, members said the name was chosen from a Greek parable about searching for direction in life.

Of the original lineup, Bo Rinehart (guitar, banjo, mandolin, backing vocals), Seth Bolt (bass, backing vocals) and Joe Stillwell (drums) have all departed over the years. Has that impacted the output in any way? Depends on who you ask. I saw NEEDTOBREATHE in one of its first performances after Bo left and it was clear his brother Bear was still processing it by comments he made from the stage. He told musicradar in an interview that “I don’t know if we really thought that we wouldn’t continue,” but added it took a minute to figure out whether they were ready to go back in the studio. On social media some fans exhibited shock and dismay after Bo left in 2020 and Bolt in 2025 … but it appears neither the size nor enthusiasm of the band’s base have suffered in the long run.

The core knows – but it is not obvious to casual fans – that NEEDTOBREATHE is a Christian rock act. Their approach is similar to other Christian acts such as U2 and Switchfoot that are often seen as mainstream artists. While the band often explores faith, doubt, hope and redemption in its lyrics, many of its songs do not explicitly mention God or scriptural language.

Looking back, “More Time” carries the humility of someone who knows he might not control the outcome but believes redemption is still possible. That posture – equal parts struggle and faith – reflects the band’s religious roots and an initial journey through commercial disappointment. But one could say despite lineup changes, the artists have delivered the song’s promise: they asked for time, and over time they delivered.

Bear Rinehart, the only remaining original member of NEEDTOBREATHE, performing with the band Jan. 31, 2026 on The Rock Boat. (Jim Murphy photo)

“More Time” by NEEDTOBREATHE on Spotify:

“More Time” by NEEDTOBREATHE on Apple Music (link).

“More Time” by NEEDTOBREATHE on YouTube:

All of the hard days are gone
It’s all beer and whisky and songs from now on
We’ll laugh at the darkness and dance until dawn
All of the hard days are gone

We’re all safe and warm here my friends
The bad times are over,
They won’t come again
Raise up you voices and give us a song
All of the hard days are gone.

Well, life has been cloudy and gray
Take the bad memories and put them away
The sun has come out
We’ve waited so long
All of the hard days are gone

So, raise up your glasses and sing
All the hard days are gone
Sure they don’t mean a thing
If you want to be happy
We’ll take you along
All of the hard days are gone.

For devotees of Kevin McKrell’s Celtic folk and American roots and bluegrass sound – especially close to home in upstate New York – it’s a relief that he didn’t recently bow out quietly from the music scene. Rather than disappear with an Irish goodbye, McKrell told fans late last year he would be stepping back before a final stretch of Christmas concerts and a busy St. Patrick’s Day schedule. More than 20 performances marked the occasion of his “semi-retirement,” each one sold out. It was a transition, not a farewell. “(I) will still be doing some few shows along the way as the spirit moves,” he said.

Across five decades McKrell has worn many hats. He co-founded Celtic folk band Donnybrook Fair (1978–1985, with later reunions), founded the bluegrass and Americana-influenced Celtic group The McKrells (1998-2026), recorded five solo albums, guided countless cultural trips to Ireland, and cultivated a respected body of work as a visual artist through his drawings, paintings and sculptures. His music became a staple of New York Capital Region’s year-end holiday calendar and St. Patrick’s Day celebrations, as well as summer racing crowds in Saratoga. And it carried him to many U.S. festivals and major venues including Carnegie Hall and Lincoln Center, as well as overseas performances.

“All of the Hard Days Are Gone” is McKrell’s best-known tune. It has been recorded and performed by a wide range of artists including The Kingston Trio, The Furey Brothers, Seamus Kennedy, North Sea Gas, The Dublin City Ramblers and Hair of the Dog, among many others. The magic of the song lies in a timeless Celtic truth: we endure and then we celebrate. It’s a rowdy storytelling song best sung along with a pub audience because we Irish have long chosen to be resilient, optimistic and communal. That balance made it an apt choice to close out his final shows.

Hopefully for McKrell, who has shared he is looking to focusing his life more on the visual art and his lady love, the title is prophetic. May all of the hard days be truly behind him.

“All of the Hard Days Are Gone” on Spotify:

“All of the Hard Days Are Gone” on Apple Music (link)

”All of the Hard Days Are Gone” on YouTube:

“All of the Hard Days Are Gone” performed by The McKrells on March 16, 2026 at The Parting Glass in Saratoga Springs, N.Y. (Jim Murphy video)

P.S. I had the pleasure to induct Kevin McKrell into the Capital Region Thomas Edison Music Hall of Fame in 2019. Below is a brief video on his career and below it, an image of his Hall of Fame plaque.

I was briefly excited when I received an email from The Beach Boys on Monday about the 60th anniversary of the iconic album “Pet Sounds.” Considered one of the most influential albums in rock music, it has four of the most cherished songs in the band’s canon: “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” “Sloop John B,” “God Only Knows” and “I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times.” It is absolutely one of my two or three favorite albums.

I am not sure what expected within the email but when I dug in, I learned that the original album, which was just 13 songs, is being exploited - I mean expanded again - this time to 90 tracks under the title “The Pet Sounds Sessions (Deluxe Edition).” It opens with those 13 tracks remastered in stereo in 1996 and concludes with the same 13 tracks remastered in mono. In between there are a large number of variations of those tracks labeled as “Intros,” “Highlights From Track Date,” “Stereo Backing Track,” “Promotional Spot #1,” “Stack-O-Vocals” and so forth. Note however that much of this was released previously on the 1997 four-CD box set “The Pet Sounds Sessions.” But there are 25 new alternate takes; three are available now to stream. All of it will be released in May on streaming platforms, along with a number of configurations on LPs and a two-CD set.

For all the excess today with reissues, it didn’t start that way. In the mid-20th century, remastering was a necessary to preserve recordings. A fortunate by-product was that the fidelity was often improved. The rest of the history of reissues is mixed.

78s were repackaged as long-playing records (33 1/3^rd LPs) to create sales in the new format. (And of course, later repackaged again as reel-to-reel tapes, cassettes, 8-tracks, CDs and MiniDiscs, among other formats.) Albums were re-released with new covers and expanded with previously unreleased songs. Greatest hits collections were developed to draw in casual fans and sell more units. Overstuffed box sets attracted superfans who were mostly repurchasing music they already owned, perhaps with expanded liner notes or gimmicky inserts. Live albums became more ubiquitous as another way to inexpensively grow sales. Indeed, curation had quickly evolved into commodification.

So back to the new “Pet Sounds” release … this is a product strategy, not an artistic endeavor. It is purely an attempt aim to stimulate consumption. More tracks equal more streams on platforms such as Spotify and Apple Music. For completists who still purchase physical product, this project will generate high-margin income.

So … what do you think of reissues?

BTW: The actual date of the 60^th anniversary of Pet Sounds is May 16. I will celebrate on that date by streaming the original track list … remastered of course.

If Joe Whiting raves about an artist, I listen. The uber-talented musician’s social post yesterday with a link to this song blew me away. After listening on YouTube, I immediately downloaded a copy from Apple Music to my iPad. And then as I did some investigating I learned neither the artist nor the track was real. Yup, AI.

Say it ain’t so, Joe.

Whiting in a separate post today:

“I may have indeed been bamboozled folks. It seems the song I posted ‘Another Day Old’ by the ‘Artist’ “Eddie Dalton” are both AI created. This does not bode well for any singers or songwriters because it means why pay an artist for a song or their performance when you can just ‘create’ one out of the ethers. I don’t think people realize how many jobs in literally every field of work are going to be impacted by AI. The bitter irony is that I still think the song and the performance are really good.”

Two reactions stuck with me: It’s artificial. And I make this point grudgingly, the music is impressive.

Set aside the ethics – and too many people will – and ubiquity feels inevitable. Too many people won’t lose sleep over it.

ChatGPT responds

I decided to ask ChatGPT what I should think about the subject and it told me my reaction – “Oh no, it’s AI …but the song and vocals are really good” – is appropriate. Like a good advice columnist, ChatGPT made an effort to be empathetic, practical and kind of authentic:

You don’t need to force yourself into a “correct” reaction here—what you wrote already shows a pretty grounded, honest one. If anything, the tension you’re feeling is the appropriate response. There are a few layers in what you experienced:

1. The gut reaction (“Oh no, it’s AI”)
That’s not just technophobia—it’s about meaning. When you thought the song came from a human artist, it carried assumptions: lived experience, intention, struggle, identity. Finding out it was generated can feel like the floor dropping out from under that connection.

2. The uncomfortable admission (“…but it’s really good”)
This is the part that unsettles people the most, because it challenges a belief many creatives hold: that technical or emotional quality is inseparable from human origin. Your reaction shows you’re being intellectually honest rather than defensive, which is actually a strength.

3. The broader anxiety (what this means going forward)
That “this does not bode well” feeling—both yours and Joe’s—isn’t irrational. It’s less about one song and more about what happens when:

• creation becomes cheap and abundant

• audiences don’t—or can’t—distinguish origin

• the market stops rewarding the human process behind the work

That’s a real shift, not just hype.

So how should you feel?
A more useful framing might be: you’re feeling ambivalence, and that’s appropriate for a moment of transition.

You can hold multiple truths at once:

• It’s okay to feel uneasy or even a little threatened on behalf of artists

• It’s okay to genuinely like something that turns out to be AI-generated

• It’s okay to question whether those two reactions can coexist long-term

None of that makes you inconsistent—it means you’re actually engaging with the issue instead of defaulting to a simple stance like “AI is amazing” or “AI is terrible.”

One subtle point your piece touches on (and could go even further with)
You wrote: “Ethical arguments aside for a moment…”

But what you’re reacting to isn’t just ethics—it’s authenticity vs. output.

People historically valued art not just for how it sounds or looks, but for:

• who made it

• why they made it

• what it cost them to make it

AI disrupts that by delivering the output without the story.

The real open question isn’t “Will AI art become ubiquitous?” (it almost certainly will), but:

Will people continue to care about the human story behind art once the output gap disappears?

Your instinct is probably right: many won’t care. But some will—and that split might define the future of creative work.

If you’re looking for a personal anchor
Instead of asking “How should I feel about AI art?”, a more grounding question might be:

What do I personally value when I connect with art?

If your answer includes things like human expression, imperfection, or lived experience, then your discomfort makes perfect sense—and it’s something you don’t need to talk yourself out of.

If your answer leans more toward pure aesthetic enjoyment, then your reaction to the song being “really good” also makes sense.

Most people, like you, are somewhere in between. And that middle space is exactly where this cultural shift is happening.

Eddie Dalton is not going anywhere

Today I Googled the name Eddie Dalton and here is the Internet’s response:

Eddie Dalton is a musician known for his contributions to the soul and blues genres. His music is available for streaming on various platforms, including Amazon Music, TikTok, SoundCloud, YouTube Music, and Spotify. Fans can enjoy his songs like "Running To You" and "Another Day Old" and discover more of his music through these platforms.

I know more than a few people that would take exception to Dalton being called a musician. Amazon was cited as the source for this information and yes, there are more Dalton songs on the streaming services.

It is entirely possible the backstory on the “musician” Eddie Dalton – as well as his catalogue – will continue to grow. If an artist can be generated, so can a legacy. We’ve already seen hologram performances from Whitney Houston and Roy Orbison. A tour by the likes of Eddie Dalton doesn’t feel far-fetched.

The earworm looping in my head today hasn’t been “Another Day Old.” It’s been the R.E.M. classic “It’s the End of the World.”

But I don’t feel fine.

P.S. Instead of listening to Eddie Dalton I highly recommend you seek out some music by Joe Whiting. In a nutshell: He is one of the coolest cats I’ve ever seen on stage. He has the swagger of Tom Jones and the flair of Rod Stewart. And his soulful vocal delivery makes him one of the, well, best musicians you have never heard.

Raise up your glasses
Let us drink to the wind at our backs
May it always blow steady wherever you roam
May it turn when you’re ready to carry you home
May it keep you ahead of the rain

Raise up your glasses
Let us drink to the heavens above
Well some say it’s a glimpse of God’s great design
Some say it’s the science of all things combined
May we look up and always feel wonder

Here’s to us and all that we see
Here’s to our hearts and the air that we breathe
Here’s to a round in good company
Here’s to the drink that we share

Raise up your glasses now
Let us drink to the time that we have
For these moments pass lightly and won’t come again
May our lives all burn brightly right up to the end
May we live them with joyous abandon

Raise up your glasses
Let us drink to the end of the day
Let us drink to the work when the working is through
Let us drink one to me, let us drink one to you
Let us drink one to those who aren’t with us

Here’s to us and all that we see
Here’s to our hearts and the air that we breathe
Here’s to a round in good company
Here’s to the future, here’s to the past
Let us drink one down slow, let us drink one down fast
Let us drink one as if this night is our last

Here’s to the drink that we share
Oh, here’s to the drink that we share

I don’t buy the idea that only Irish musicians can write great Irish songs.

But first: What actually defines an Irish song, especially around a celebration such as St. Patrick’s Day? The themes tend to be familiar: the description of an historical episode (think “The Fields of Athenry”); a memory of romance (“Grace”), heartbreak (“Linger”) or betrayal (“Whisky in a Jar”); a reunion (“The Boys Are Back in Town’); a farewell (“The Green Fields of America”); or perhaps most importantly, a toast.

A good toast song works because it invites participation. The verses are short, the sentiments universal and the chorus repeats like a ritual. By the time the second refrain rolls around, the room knows exactly what to do.

For generations the standard has been the Scottish tune “The Parting Glass.” But I’d argue that “The Toast,” written by Jewish-Slavic American Adam Ezra Olshansky and performed by the Boston-based Adam Ezra Group, is its contemporary and deserves equal standing. It’s a deceptively simple song built for community: glasses raised, voices layered and strangers briefly becoming friends. Gratitude, loss, memory, community, friendship and reverence are all wrapped in a call to live fully in the present.

That communal spirit isn’t an accident. Ezra and his bandmates (Corinna Smith, Alex Martin and Poche Ponce) have spent years cultivating it. Three of many examples: They check in with their fans regularly – nearly 1,000 times since the start of the pandemic – through impromptu, free streaming performances and chats called “Gatherings.” They routinely step in to the audience and whether or not they encourage a sing-along, their fans join them in song. And they give back, having raised over $750,000 to support homeless veterans through RallySound, a non-profit founded by Ezra that maintains “music has the power to inspire communities, and that small grassroots communities have the power to change the world.”

Give “The Toast” a listen. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself raising a glass and singing along before the third verse.

Sláinte!

Adam Ezra Group performing “The Toast” on Spotify:

Adam Ezra Group performing “The Toast” on Apple Music (link)

Adam Ezra Group performing “The Toast” on YouTube*:

* Note: This song is commonly performed with the band coming into the audience, who join in singing … that is when it is most powerful.