I write songs, that's for damn sure. If you dig Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Steve Earle, and Bruce Springsteen, well, I don't blame you - they're great. I'm just doing my best over here.

I'm in Northern California, the North Bay to be more precise, Sonoma County to be still more precise, and the town of Sonoma to be preciser yet. This website's a good place to find out when and where I'm playing, listen to or watch the occasional tune, read one of my infrequent blog posts, or learn about the songwriting instruction I do.

Have at it, and I hope to see you around!

My Top 20 Albums 

I just found this post from 2009. It still pretty much works, and might give you an idea of where I'm coming from.

My rules:  

- I won't list a "Greatest Hits" record simply because I love the artist but no actual album really killed me. For this reason, Elvis, among others, is missing from this list. 

- I will list a Greatest Hits record if it genuinely knocked me out (typically it was my first exposure to the artist - Leonard Cohen and Hank Williams make it this way.) 

- For perverse reasons, I list no more than one record by any artist. I can tell you that Dylan and The Stones would be inordinately represented, but I like to spread the love. 

- It's in a weird kind of order, having to do with how much a record has impacted me, but also when. 

- These are from many periods of my life. Some I haven't listened to in years, but they were important to me at the time.

Note that I only encountered 3 or 4 of these at the time they came out. I've always spent more energy digging into the past than scouring the present.


1. Highway 61 Revisited - The Bob. I am pretty sure the first time I heard this was 1981, when I checked it out of the Boulder Public Library. I've never gotten over it. 

2. Exile on Main St. - The Rolling Stones. I could list any record the Stones made between '68 and '72, but this one is the trashiest. 

3. Remain In Light - Talking Heads. I've been rootsy for quite awhile now, but when I was 21 and everything was new and I was discovering Art, this record blew my head off. [This is one I heard when it came out.]

4. Led Zeppelin II. The summer I turned 15, I was alone in the house one day, and on a whim I put on this record that my sister's boyfriend had left, and turned it up louder than I had ever turned up a record before. Everything changed. (For one thing, I never listened to Elton John again.) 

5. Dark Side of the Moon - Pink Floyd. Are you kidding? I was an American kid that grew up in the 1970s. "The ultimate headphone album" was a huge cultural touchstone. 

6. Decade - Neil Young. It was hard to know which Neil Young record to pick, but this was unquestionably the formative one: it's the first one I encountered, when I first went away to college, and if you listen to my music now, you know I've never gotten over it. [Heard this one pretty much when it came out.]

7. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars - David Bowie. Bowie, too, was huge for me in my youth. I devoured many of his records, but this one is a definitive rock masterpiece. 

8. Smithsonion Collection of Classical Jazz - Various. I have no idea if that's even the name of it, but one Christmas vacation in college, sick of the sorry rock music that was being purveyed at the time, I made three or four cassettes from this multi-disc set I found at my dad's house. My favorite one was from the 40s and 50s with Duke, Lester, Diz and Bird all over it. It got me through the early 80s. 

9. Hank Williams Greatest Hits. In 1985, in Boulder, I bought this record at a garage sale for a quarter. I put it on later that day, just when I was starting to get off on mushrooms (kids: drugs are bad!), and "Ramblin' Man" came on, and my heart broke. 

10. Greatest Hits - Louis Jordan and His Tympani Five. Not even really sure if that's the name of it. In my mid-20s I went on a long journey to reconcile my appreciation for jazz with my bred-in-the-bone identification with rock. I started learning about the history of American music. I searched with my ears for a missing link between Louis Armstrong and Chuck Berry. Much to my surprise, I found it. 

11. Best of Leonard Cohen. I knew Bob Dylan wrote great songs. I didn't know anyone else wrote songs that were just as great. Until I found this. 

12. Rain Dogs - Tom Waits. When this record came out Tom was on a cusp: he had been one of the great contemporary songwriters, and he was turning into one of the great contemporary sonic artists. This was my first serious encounter with him, and it suited me to a T. [Heard this when it came out.]

13. Abbey Road - The Beatles. Like you, the Beatles are simply in my blood. There was a brief period when I was a kid that the beginnings of our (my sisters and my) album-buying overlapped with the end of the Beatles' album-making. Maybe we got Abbey Road after they broke up, but not long after, and we played the grooves off it during my 11th summer. [Heard this not long after came out.]

14. Darkness on the Edge of Town - Bruce Springsteen. I have had a long and complicated relationship with Bruce, although he doesn't know it. Although I liked the songs I heard from Darkness when it came out, I already had a problem with the whole Boss thing, so I didn't own this record until the early 90s. And then I went nuts for it. It's one of the most passionate records I know of. 

15. Songs In the Key of Life - Stevie Wonder. I have and love everything he did in the first half of the 70s, which, apart from the hits I heard on the radio, I did not discover until the first half of the 90s. 

16. Exodus - Bob Marley. In high school, I lived in northern New York, and the best radio station was CHOM, from Montreal. Every Tuesday night they would play a new album in its entirety, and I would listen on my little clock radio in my little room. I heard My Aim Is True this way, and Exodus. It was very, very cool. [But I didn't buy it until many years later.]

17. Atlantic Rhythm'n'Blues, 1947-1974. Cheap as I am, you don't see many fat box sets in my collection. I guess I was feeling rich one day, and I'm damn glad of it. It's all cream, but the ones I go back to the most are the 60s ones, particularly Stax, Stax, Stax. And Ray. 

18. El Corazon - Steve Earle. In the mid-90s I did a Columbia House thing and got 9 CDs for a penny or something. I figured I could take a flyer on a couple, and I hit the jackpot on this one. Rock, twang, and great songs. [Got it when it came out.]

19. The Band ("The Brown Album") - Inevitably, in my late 20s, I came to these guys, and I still haven't left. With Bob, the Stones, and Neil, The Band has been one of my chief musical influences for a long time now. 

20. Moondance - Van Morrison. It was between this and Al Green's I'm Still In Love With You, and frankly, whatever. Although I could would be content to never hear the title track again, Moondance is a nearly perfect album from "the Irish Stevie Wonder". Can I please write a song like "And It Stoned Me"? Can I at least write a song that has fishing poles in it?

Johnny Harper, Pt. 1 

Johnny Harper makes music for human liberation.

I'm just gonna let that stand for a minute while I give you some backstory.

Finding Sanctuary

In 1988, I was lost. (Again.) I'd landed in the Bay Area a couple years earlier, but hadn't gotten a foothold. I was adrift and alone. All I had really figured out by then was that I was, in fact, however tenuously, connected to something worthwhile in the world: American music. I'd finally fit together enough of the pieces to realize that the music that moved me had come from a rich tradition, and that my compulsion to write songs, no matter how infrequently or obscurely, legitimately connected me to that tradition.

So this much I knew. And somehow, lost as I was, I came up with the conclusion that, since this was the one true thing I knew in life, I ought to somehow pursue it, follow it, strengthen that connection. Maybe by playing my songs in front of other people.

But I had two problems: I was a shitty guitar player, and I was a shitty singer. Setting aside the second problem, I decided to take guitar lessons. So I opened up to the back of the East Bay Express, looked through the classifieds for guitar lessons, and picked one that sounded good. "Unique instruction method focused on what you want to learn."

The voice on the other end of the line was impressive. Deep and resonant.

The man who answered the door of the little house in East Oakland was impressive. Tall, dressed in a black shirt, black jeans, black shoes, with a big, square head and a shaggy mane of gray hair.

But Johnny was warm and welcoming, with intelligent eyes, an amused smile, and a down-home accent, as he let me into the room that would become like a sanctuary to me: his living room, and studio, with a couple guitars hanging on the walls, a baby grand (his live-in girlfriend, Jennifer Jolly, was a piano player), and shelves full of books about music. In the middle were two simple chairs with a little table between them. That was where the teaching took place.

The Teaching and The Teacher

That first day, Johnny asked me where I was coming from and I had figured out enough to point to Hank Williams and Robert Johnson as, I suppose, my ancestors of choice. And we pretty quickly turned up Dylan. From there, as the months went on, my visits to the sanctuary included the teachings of Bob (Dylan), Robbie (Robertson), and Robert (Johnson), as well as Hank, Chuck, Keith, Bruce, John & Paul, and Van.

(Johnny turned me around on Bruce, whom I'd rejected on the grounds of ubiquity. He also, significantly, hipped me to The Band, who'd mostly flown under my radar, having broken up just as I was getting into rock as a teen.)

Johnny didn't just teach me folk, rock, country, and blues guitar styles, and he didn't just teach me history. He also taught me songwriting. He urged me to bring my songs in, so I did, shaking as I sang them, shittily. But he listened - he listened! He really, deeply, listened to my songs, which right there was worth gold.

And then he picked them apart. I was not expecting this. He would say, "Yeah, this is good, but you've got this line right here, and it's kind of bullshit." And I would be, like, "What? The song's done." And I'd defend the line, and explain myself, and then finally admit that it was kind of bullshit and I knew it.

So he'd send me away to rewrite it, which sucked, because I had already written it once. But shortly before the next lesson I would sit down and make myself rewrite it, and it was better. Every time.

Johnny would get really picky, too - not just a line, but a word. Hey, nobody's gonna notice if one word is a little off, right? But Johnny Harper taught me the most important thing about making a song, or making anything: you create an overall impression through an accumulation of details. So get the details right.

And if they're not right the first time, rewrite. And if they're still not right, rewrite.

Stay tuned for Pt. 2, where I'll talk more about Johnny's music, his production of my 1999 CD, American Stray, and more...

Order a copy of Johnny's new CD, Light of a New Day, directly from Johnny - and tell him Phillips sentcha! $15 (including shipping).  Send your check or money order to Johnny Harper, 16051 Marcella St., San Leandro CA 94578

Tom Petty: A Songwriter's Perspective 

Even though Tom Petty was right in my wheelhouse - that wheelhouse being roughly bounded by Dylan, Springsteen, Elvis Costello, and Steve Earle - he was never a major influence on me. I sometimes find myself consciously trying to write "in the style of ___" (I assume every songwriter does that). I do recall trying to write one in the style of Petty, but I gave that up a long time ago.

The reason is simple: what Tom Petty did as a songwriter, you can't learn.

He had an otherworldly knack for turning out songs that were instant classics. Ear-grabbers from the first note, with fist-in-the-air choruses. Three minute nuggets of rock perfection.

I'll give you the name, and I guarantee your mind will sing along:



"American Girl" 

"Learning to Fly"

"Don't Do Me Like That"

"Free Fallin'"

I could keep going. For a long time.

What other rock songwriter did this? John Fogerty, for a few short years. Lennon and McCartney, I suppose. Buddy Holly? It starts getting pretty thin up in those altitudes.

Arlo Guthrie said, “Songwriting is like fishing in a stream; you put in your line and hope you catch something.” There's a lot of craft to songwriting, but Arlo's talking about the inspiration, the part that comes before the craft. The original idea, that thing that pops into your head and makes you go, "Hey, now, that could get turned into something people want to hear!"

You sure as hell did not want to be fishing downstream from Tom Petty. He caught the juiciest ones, and served them up done to perfection.

American music history 

I'm a complete geek when it comes to the history of rock'n'roll, folk, blues, country, r'n'b, jazz - all those amazing art forms that grew out of the bloodsoaked soil of America. I inhale every book or article I come across.

I've also done a little tiny bit of, I guess you'd call it "scholarship" on the subject - an article here and there, a radio show here and there. This is something I intend to explore more - book reviews, particular subjects I find interesting, etc. Stay tuned.

I'll also be sharing links to interesting roots-history related stuff on Facebook and Twitter. Follow me there for more tidbits.

Teaching songwriting to kids 

I started a new gig last week: teaching a songwriting class to middle-schoolers at Woodland Star Charter School in Sonoma.


I can tell this is going to be a pretty serious ride. The wild hearts of 12-, 13-, and 14-year olds, trusting themselves to my, well, what? What they imagine to be my superior knowledge. And as far as nuts-and-bolts - crafting lyrics, melody, chord progressions, and so forth, sure, I know some stuff. I know a lot of stuff.

But that's not really the essence of songwriting, is it? The essence of songwriting is the essence of life, and as far as that goes, they know more than I do. I'm just a grown-up. I've been through the wars. I've got filters over my eyes.

I'm looking forward to learning from them.

Late take on "Springsteen" 

OK, so I finally heard the Eric Church song "Springsteen." (Showed up in my Twitter feed as an Austin City Limits performance: #countryfail.) To be honest, I didn't listen all the way through. I've heard this song before. 

Well, figuratively. I used to get my haircuts at a chain place (like Eric Church, my hairline doesn't require much maintenance) that often had the Pandora bro-country station running. This variation on the theme goes "Things were really great when we were young growing up in a small town," and typically invokes cutoff jeans, swimmin' holes, beer, music, and young "love." There are a bunch of these songs, and I couldn't tell you their names if my life depended on it. (Note: my own small-town youth did actually involve these things, but I do not romanticize it much, which means that I may never have a country radio hit.) 

The wrinkle that Church puts into it is that the symbol of this summery nostalgia is the music of Bruce. Which in a way makes perfect sense, and in another way is profoundly weird. 

The way in which it makes sense is obvious, and the reason it was a country hit: Springsteen's 80s hits did in fact provide part of the soundtrack of small-town America, and Springsteen's image at the time was the personification of the heartland. 

That was already kind of weird at the time, though. While Springsteen's sound, themes, and image were suited to that role, his actual lyrics had no trace of the pastoral romance required of country radio music; were, in fact, full of darkness, lost hope, indeed, forsakenness (the visceral longing for freedom found in his earlier albums had vanished by then.) But as has been adequately documented elsewhere, most people were not actually listening to the lyrics. 

Church's song references a bunch of Springsteen's. In order: "I'm on Fire," "Born To Run," "Born In the USA," and "Glory Days." It's no accident that three of the four were from the wildly popular Born In the USA album, and were major radio hits in '85 and '86 (when, apparently, the singer and the girl were 17.) "Born to Run" is a little strange in that company, since sonically it's a whole different world, had been a hit a full decade earlier (when the characters in Church's song were 7!), and has a more urban setting. Granted, it was already, as it has remained, sort of Springsteen's signature tune, so we'll let it slide. 

No, the truly weird part about "Springsteen" is how absolutely un-Springsteen-like it is. It is generic bro-country nostalgia, full-stop. Not only does it lack any of the emotional nuance of Bruce's good ones, it trades specifically in the cheap nostalgia of the kind Bruce would never allow himself, knowing as he does that human experience and human hearts are never as simple as we might wish. 

So it becomes this bizarre exercise in appropriating the image of mid-80s Springsteen to appeal to a romantic longing that the artist and his art have virtually no relationship to. It just takes that image and plunks it into a standard country-radio setting, seeming to honor Springsteen while in fact tossing out everything substantial about him. "Springsteen" here could just as well be swapped for Bon Jovi. In that sense, it's way worse than what Reagan did when he cast Springsteen in that role contemporaneously; at least then, Bruce was in a position to publicly refute the association. 

There is also the matter of genre. I'd like to get into the question of accents (a fascinating one to me), but I don't have time for that now. I'll just note that this song is a tacit admission that these characters were not listening to country radio when they were 17, but they are now (or at the time the song was released, in 2011, when they would have been around 43.) Entirely plausible, of course, but interesting and almost weird in its own way. In precisely the way that an actual, powerful longing for freedom when you're 17 can turn into a romanticized longing for youth when you're 43.

Hosting a Drop-in Songwriting Class 

I've just been handed the baton by my buddy and soulful songwriter Wayne Haught: I'm the new host/facilitator of the Songwriters Sharing Circle, a monthly drop-in class at the Arlene Francis Center in Santa Rosa. If you're a songwriter, or want to learn more about songwriting, this is a great, low-pressure way to do it.

This is a chance to bring in songs you've been working on and get sympathetic feedback from fellow strugglers. It opens with a guest instructor. In the past we've had The Bootleg Honeys, Josh Windmiller, Saffell Sproul, and more. Each month we have a prompt to get your imagination jump-started.

The Songwriters Sharing Circle has been going on since March 2016 - I was a founder and one of the "official critiquers" for the first several months - and it arose from a closed songwriting group that had been meeting for a year. It's been a real cool deal, and I'm pleased to take over the reins from the sure hands of Wayne, who steered it true.

Wayne is now giving more focused 6-week songwriting classes, and if you're a writer in Sonoma County, I urge you to check it out.

Teaching Songwriting 

This year I've been getting into teaching songwriting.

I'd been in a songwriting group for a year, and started realizing I really enjoyed giving feedback, and people said they got something useful from it. Soon after that, along with my buddy Wayne Haught, I started facilitating a monthly drop-in songwriting class, called Songwriters Sharing Circle, in Santa Rosa.

More recently, I was contacted by Cat Austin, a local theater director, to give a master class to a group of teenage girls that were in her summer theater project. Then last month I was the "edutainment" portion of the drop-in class, giving a presentation on basic harmony for songwriters.

I've loved it. I love being able to listen deeply to a writer, grasp what they're aiming for, and give them some guidance on how to get there. I love midwifing songs. I love taking some of the techniques I've learned directly from Steve Earle, Peter Case, and Johnny Harper, and passing them down.

Soon I hope to offer a songwriting class at the Ranchito, and also offer one-on-one coaching sessions. Stay tuned - and contact me if you're interested!

The What 

Hey, I'm Friend of the Week on The What, "a clever list for curious people," curated by my buddy Gina Pell. So they lobbed 11 questions at me and I managed to dodge most of 'em, but you can read about it yourself right here. I felt pretty special about that.

If you take away nothing else, remember this: I am working on a batch of new tunes that all relate somehow or other with the struggle between the desire to be a good citizen and the yearning to be free. (They're more fun than I make it sound, you gotta trust me on this.) And once I whip them into shape I am gonna be raising money to put out a CD.

Meanwhile, I will be posting sketches and snippets so you can see that I ain't jivin'.


I finally got off the dime and made a website for myself. Good for me. Also, I hope, good for you: here's a place where you'll be able to see when I'm playing and where, sign up for my mailing list, watch videos, listen to music, email me, all that stuff that lets me stay connected to you when you're not sitting there listening to me play live.

I tend to post about things that interest me from an artistic perspective - other music, books, people, conversations, ideas. I hope you relate to some of it.

Check in every so often. I'll leave the light on.

Promise I won't spam ya

Previous events

Songwriting Fools

 —  —

Starling Bar Sonoma, Highway 12 , Sonoma

Sonoma Valley songwriters in the round, featuring Adam Traum, Josh Yenne, Dave Hooper, Dale Henry Geist, and Randy Burrows. With audience participation! This is a FREE event.

For the past year, a group of songwriters has been getting together once a month to share their work with each other. This is your chance to get a peek at what they've been up to. Casual format in a friendly neighborhood bar.

Starling Bar Open Mic Featured Performer

Starling Bar Sonoma, Highway 12 , Sonoma

Starling Open Mics are always tons of fun, and as the featured performer, I'll be playing a 30-minute set. Expect all new tunes, since I've been on a writing tear

It's free, yall!

Peter Case Songwriting Workshop

Rockin' Heart Ranchito, 17115 Sonoma Hwy., Sonoma, CA

Grammy nominee Peter Case is a songwriter's songwriter, with a decades-long legacy of sterling music from punk with The Nerves to power-pop with The Plimsouls to Americana-before-it-was-Americana as a solo artist. Case has been teaching songwriting for the past several years and we are fortunate indeed to host him in an intimate one-day workshop. Space is limited!

Price: $100. (Early-bird through 4/15: $75)

Send check to: Peter Case 5758 Geary Blvd. #365 San Francisco CA 94121

Drop-in Songwriting Class

Arlene Francis Center, 99 W. 6th Street, Santa Rosa, CA 95401

I'm hosting this monthly class, where experienced songwriters and enlightened amateurs demonstrate how to develop your songwriting skills.

Bring a song! We tell you what we like about it, and give you an opinion on how to improve. Compassionate and constructive. The prompt for this month is to write a song of beginnings.

Our guest instructor will be the uniquely talented Sage Fifield of The Easy Leaves.

Songwriters Sharing Circle

Arlene Francis Center, 99 W. 6th Street, Santa Rosa, CA

Come down to our next drop-in songwriting class. Your songwriting assignment for this month is to write a song of thanksgiving. What are you grateful for? What should you be grateful for? Should you be grateful? Why or why not? Or maybe your inspiration is something else entirely.

We'll have a guest instructor, TBD.


West Coast Songwriters Competition - Judge

Aqus Cafe, 189 H St., Petaluma, CA

Come check out the future when the West Coast Songwriters Association presents its monthly Songwriter Competition, where members get the chance to take the stage and perform their material before a live audience. Guest judges award a "Best Song" and "Best Performance." The most active songwriters' association in the United States, WCSA is dedicated to providing the environment, opportunities, and tools to nurture and promote songwriters; among the extraordinary singer-songwriters actively involved in the WCSA are Steve Seskin, Candy Cameron, John Lester, Michael McNevin, and Nyree.

Song Birds United

 —  —

Aqus Cafe, Petaluma

Join me for a very special evening with the wonderful singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Anita Bear Sandwina (of Spark & Whisper).

Dale Henry Geist

 —  —

Barking Dog Roasters, Sonoma

I'll be playing solo acoustic, 90% originals. Damn right.