Born in rural England, I got turned on to music after finding an old guitar in my parent’s attic along with all their old 45s. From Dave Brubeck to Magical Mystery Tour, I learned it all. Five years later, my band was a big fish in a small pond, and five years after that, every major label in England was courting us.

In the early 90s, my band, The Starclub, signed the biggest deal Island records had ever offered a new band - Chris Blackwell being personally active in the deal - only to see the project immediately begin to unravel. Relocating from London to New York, I put myself through singer-songwriter boot camp, forcing myself to take the stage at endless open-mic nights and eventually locating my muse. Then, having seen first-hand how skilled producers operate, from working with John Leckie and Chris Hughes in the U.K., I taught myself how to produce quickly and on the cheap.

A call to my old friend Robin Wilson, singer of the Gin Blossoms (with whom my band toured while signed) set in motion the recording of The Longshadows debut offering, Simple Minded Way; a body of work - filled with rich soundscapes, intricate electric and acoustic work, and momentum-inducing grooves - that eloquently showcases my production and writing sensibilities.

I am also interested in, have profited from - and have even won awards for -  commercial composition, and have scored indie movies, industrials and music for TV.  (The Time Warner Jingle “Divercity,” which I composed and produced, won the Promax Gold award for “best multi media campaign.” And since it was a jingle played on TV and Radio, I had no small part to play in the campaign.)

My path moving forward is to reach out to more artists and clients, and instigate collaborations. I want to work. I love making music. I want to do it more and more and more, and believe that no matter the budget, there is always a way.

To that end, I am reminded of (and will never forget) the most beautiful piece of music I ever heard. It was in the most unlikely of places. I was on the subway in my hometown of New York as the usual parade of shabby folk shuffled through the train employing various pathos inducing acts for any spare change. (Sorry, in this town you get cynical pretty quickly.) One sorry looking woman stood silent after she entered the carriage, and I wondered what the “shtick” would be. There was no shtick. Gradually, and quietly, eyes vague and to the ground, she began to sing the most haunting, mournful, melancholic and frankly, gut wrenching version of “cum-by-ya.” Some one did cry, my lord… me! Man, it was beautiful. Thinking of it still makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

I went an extra stop and gave her $40 when I got off.

If only I had a recording of it.

Music doesn’t have to be complicated, but I think it does have to be heart felt.