[MUSIC!]

I was adopted. Maybe. My older brothers told me that they found me, living naked under a log in the woods of Pennsylvania. They took me home and convinced my mum to let them keep me. I now doubt the authenticity of most of this account, although I do fiercely cling to my affinity for my native Pennsylvania.

My first instrument was the kazoo. I soon moved on, writing 7 songs on guitar when I was 6 years old. Then, I quit playing guitar cause my super-arsesome brother made fun of me in front of his cool friends for my strange style.

When I was 8 years old, I saw a kindly, beardly man playing a drumset made of buckets in Baltimore. Something broke in the atmosphere that night. From that time on, I was the plight of my pop’s tool shop. I was a chubby, little bucket-stashing rat. I went home and made myself a bucket drumset. On the center garbage can, I spray-painted “BS,” which stood for “Bucket Set,” of course. Music has been a way of life ever since I was young.

In recent years, I have hit the byways by way of the melody. A lot of my songs are about traveling. I have kicked around Southern Africa and crossed North America with friends made through the singing of my silly, home-seeking songs. I have been to Southeast Asia for music, and I plan to keep exploring the world, dangling by the strings of my guitar.

I have released four official albums, three of which are available on iTunes; “Good Times” (2012) “Songs From Pretoria” (2011) and “Going Places” (2010). You may hear the title, “Going Places,” and think it to be some silly proclamation of big dreams. Nope. It is more of an observation; I like to go places. I like to be places. It is not named for some deep-seated desire for a successful musical career. I already have that. You know how I know my music is successful? My grandad recently told me that he uses my first album, “Pretty Good Songs: Volume VII” as his alarm clock every morning!