Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

It was the spring of 2013 and The JUNO Awards were being held in my hometown, hosted by Michael Bublé. I was super into Bublé’s smooth crooner vocals as a kid, and I was sure he’d put on a good performance. I was all coiffed, suited and booted in generic hipster attire, having been styled meticulously by my first girlfriend with suspenders, dress shoes, a bowtie, some pomad, and a smug smile that says, “Yeah, I heard of them ages ago.” It was a year after I graduated high school, and as such, I had zero confidence in my ability to dress myself.

Somewhere between us getting ready at her mom’s house, we found the time to argue enough to warrant the occasional silent treatment from one another. Arguing was the activity we did the best, and certainly the most frequently throughout our relationship. When her mom dropped us off at the venue, we took our place in the long line at the entrance, and despite our catty antics with one another, my ex and I got to talking to the other JUNO attendees on either side of us. I tried making conversation with a 40-something year old man in very tight leather pants, but he wasn’t very talkative and he must have found the deathly stranglehold on his groin distracting, as he squirmed around uncomfortably in his tight leather prison. It seemed clear to me that this was the first time he had worn them. I turned away from him to a small woman, not much older than the first man, who was telling anyone who would listen that she had followed Michael Bublé from all of his previous appearances across the country, and was excited to finally be able to see him live again for the 400th time. She also showed us a picture of her with Oprah, and I noticed the strained expression on Oprah’s face was identical to mine at that current moment, as I examined the uncomfortable photo that was the background on her phone. “What a shameless, crazed fanatic - I can’t stand people like this,” I thought. Security opened the doors and my ex and I filed into the arena, with about 50 bodies between us as we dare not look at each other’s annoying face (*sigh*, young love…).

I found myself perpetually pushed forward from the in-flowing crowd behind me, like garbage in the trash compactor of Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope. I ended up being stationed about six feet from the long, narrow stage, with my ex being about one foot from it, sandwiching a bunch more stinky strangers between us.

The event was finally officially getting under way, and the lights shutting down heralded the beginning of the night’s entertainment as a voice called, “Please welcome your host: Michael Bublé!” Every person around me sounded out their enthusiasm with unbridled excitement at seeing a REAL LIVE CELEBRITY! Michael walked up the stage steps with his arms turned up towards the heavens, walking slowly like a Greek god greeting us peasants. I was well out of my adolescent Bublé phase, and as such was unaffected by the hysteria. Again, I scoffed to myself, “What sheep! What brainwashed, mindless-“ and as Michael drew closer to me, crossing the strip of stage, I felt my heart rate start to increase. As Michael’s beautiful head swivelled in my direction, I could feel my armpits sweating off my cheap sports deodorant. I was immediately gripped with fear, as I started to understand that the gut reaction to seeing Mr. Bublé just feet from me was making me lose control. The shrieking in my midst was at a fever pitch, and from the depths of my desperate, 19-year-old soul, a ball of unpredictable fire was making its way up my windpipe. As Michael passed directly in front of me, my arms shot up towards the ceiling, my mouth fell open and I cried out (to my total shame): “MICHAEL! YOU’RE AMAZING!”

Even the tweens beside me looked at me with contempt, as my arms slowly descended and I realized with horror that I was without a doubt the most despicably desperate of all the brainless sheep there that night. As I felt my JUNO pass that hung from my neck between my sweaty fingers, this realization combined with all of the previous pent-up emotions from my ex and I fighting, and a single tear rolled down my baby-faced, razor burned cheek, as I silently mourned the loss of my self-respect.

Ryan, lead vocalist: On a personal level, this pandemic has definitely changed my daily life, especially in my day job as a teacher. Trying to keep students six feet apart has been a challenge in itself, but thankfully our district found a way around that by providing face shields for students to wear while wearing a mask as well when working together closer than six feet. Students have had to become accustomed to silent snacks, mask breaks and making sure to use hand sanitizer when both entering and exiting a room. As a teacher, I have had to wear many hats, including having to become an IT technician. We have some students who have been remote all year and other students who are working remotely when quarantining. Considering all students are learning at the same time and not in cohorts, what this means is teachers are not only teaching to the students physically in front of them, but we have computer screens in front of us to teach to students remotely as well.

We have had to become jugglers to make sure remote students and students in person can access the material equally, fix IT issues that arise and be there to support students’ emotional well-being during this unique time all while teaching.

Aside from teaching, trying to keep our band afloat in the midst of a pandemic has certainly been challenging, but we chose not to give up. It hasn’t been easy, but regardless of the obstacles thrown at us, we found a way to overcome them. Performing shows is one of the most important aspects of being in a band and we found ourselves struggling to find ways to work around the lack of physical shows. Once restaurants started to open up more, the owners requested that all music be instrumental only (meaning no vocals). This was a unique challenge for us and we felt it best to wait until there were outdoor shows again. In order to solve this problem, we decided to tap into livestreams and pre-recorded shows, including a music festival that was purely online this year.

Another challenge we had was filming our music video for “What Are You Waiting For.” It took us three months to complete it due to the pandemic and trying to figure out how and where we would record it. We were also only able to film one person’s part of the video a day due to filming in different parts of Connecticut. In addition, we also had to wait until places started to open up more before we could film all of us together at the end of the video at practice. Overall, we were excited and proud to complete the video, which in itself exemplifies that with perseverance anything can be possible. We had a lot of fun filming it and hope you enjoy it too!

While practicing social distancing, watch our music video for "What Are You Waiting For":

Tim Graham, vocalist: Man, this whole year has just been eerie and weird. We had a full summer of touring booked along with some stuff in the fall and a few singles to drop, then the world ended. At the beginning of lockdown, we all kind of just took some time off for ourselves and looked at it like we were getting a two-week vacation. When everything we had planned got cancelled, we knew the whole situation was going to be longer than two weeks.

I’d say for the months of March and April, I just lived the best life I could by going fishing and social distanced golfing and kind of utilized my hobbies the best I could while I had the time. The best weekend was virtually playing beer pong over facetime or zoom with other band members around the state - it was perfect for not drinking “emotionally” alone even though we weren’t all in the same room. The band and I talked here and there but for those couple months it was really difficult to have any desire to do anything music related.

It was a feeling of defeat knowing this momentum we had came to a halt with no end in sight and it was hard to think about “What can we do for ourselves?” so we looked at it in a way of “What can we do to help those around us?”. We all had jobs still paying us, so we looked out to our community struggling and especially our good friends at our favorite restaurant in Denver, The Brutal Poodle. We ran a shirt fundraiser for the staff and business with a new design and saw so much love from the community with those and raised some good money for them. That little spark of hope and good in the world kicked our ass into gear.

Photo courtesy of Ryan Kiolbassa

Jonathan, vocals/guitar: Lombardy was formed during the quarantine. The boys and I all have our own solo projects and main ventures, but after a night of pizza and listening to Rage Against The Machine, we thought it would be awesome to start a collective rock band. 

Photos courtesy of Maria Quintana

Coralie Herve, drummer/backing vocals: We were supposed to go on tour last March but this pandemic happened. So we had to think of what we could do to keep going because we didn’t, and still don’t, know how long that was gonna last.

We have actually been really productive; we recorded a new album and made videos for the new singles.

The process, of course, was different than usual. We didn’t practice the songs together with Tarah prior to the studio; we were sending each other tracks and videos of ideas for each song.

Our new album will be released in April and since January we are releasing a new single each month with a video for it.

I’ve been practicing a lot, giving my drum lessons online which is really different than in-person so I had to get used to it. I’ve been listening to a lot of music from awesome new bands like Ad Infinitum, watching movies and TV shows (especially comedies like Superstore or The Last Man On Earth).

I can’t wait to be able to play live again, I really miss it.

Tarah G. Carpenter, lead vocalist: A year ago, I was behind my desk trying to make the decision of canceling the tour or not. We did not know how serious the pandemic was and every state had different orders. We don't cancel shows; we take our tours very seriously, so it was a really hard decision to make. Staying safe, for us and for the people who wanted to watch us play.

Some promoters were really understanding, others less but once the lockdown was national, everyone started coming up with Instagram Live shows and other ways to make those shows happen.

We quickly realized that the whole Instagram Live thing was not really working because of a latency issue. We decided to focus on something else. I wrote a bunch of new songs and once the demos were done, I shared them with Coralie and Jason Orme, our producer. We were having Zoom meetings and we were sending each other tracks and ideas. We finally met one weekend to record and that was the first time we were playing the songs live! Which, if you don't know me, is a big deal! I hate to be unprepared. Before a recording session, I always want to make sure that everyone knows their part, and that we are all set for any situation so that we don't waste any time, etc. So I was a little apprehensive, but everything turned out great! Actually even more than great! It was a really weird situation because there were no hugs, and every time someone was next to someone else, the other would move away. We performed with our masks on, and when I sang I was facing the wall! We all stayed safe and that is all that really matters in the end! ;)

We also decided to shoot music videos that same week, so that we would have material to promote and release the singles.

We decided to focus on our online presence until we are able to play live shows again. So far, it has been really exciting to see the reaction of a lot of new people, and we are happy that the new songs have such a huge impact. “Pantomath” was our first single as a duo and now we are releasing our first album as a two piece. We hope that you enjoy listening to our new album :)

It’s been a year since the first shelter-in-place orders were put into effect here in Northern California. I remember the week before it happened vividly.

I work as an aide at a local elementary school, and I’d spent the entire week making copies of homework packets to send home to keep the students busy for the next two weeks - we were told the shutdown would be just two weeks. All the while I had a bad headache, so bad it would wake me up at night. These weren’t symptoms of COVID, so I didn’t worry too much.

Meanwhile, at home, my 15-year-old cat, Furokey, was dying. She’d been diagnosed with cancer the previous summer and had overshot the prognosis of 6 to 8 weeks to live. Sadly, I could see the cancer was finally winning.

Music-wise, I was in pre-production with a producer who was going to help me record a full-length album. We’d been putting together demos since October. I had a friend in Oregon who was slated to play drums on the album, and just the month before, I had recorded some of her ideas with my piano parts. The producer and I had been sifting through these session recordings, deciding what worked and what didn’t.

And then everything stopped.

On the “up” side, we were immediately invited to play a music fest outside of Chicago and had the privilege of playing the iconic Cutting Room in New York City. We had a kick-ass 2020 scheduled including playing SXSW, playing fests with Jefferson Starship, Puddle of Mudd, Molly Hatchet and Blackfoot, and starting a tour.

Then the apocalypse hit and canceled everything.

But like life, the music industry is volatile and unpredictable. So we dug in and got busy.

One day in my life! Well now the days that have been for the last year have not been like any other days in my life. But if you think about it, every day and every situation is unique. These hard times have been tough for a musician, but you must try to use the hard times as well as you can. At the end of your day you have to decide your own fate. Many people can try to help you and some people may lay down hurdles before you, but in the end you have to be strong in yourself.

I am a story metal songwriter. I collect stories from my own life and from others around me. There have been a lot of stories to collect, both full of happiness and hard times during the pandemic. I have listened to a lot of people talking about how they struggle with their work, with their friends and relatives and just how important that being close to your loved ones really is. I say that it’s important to dare to live life if you want to write about life. All my songs that I write are based upon true stories, experiences and emotions. This has taken me to many different places and situations. I want to tell you about one in particular.

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

Not to sound like a melodramatic 20-something, but I’m pretty positive that live music is the best thing that exists in this world, and if you asked me a year ago, I would have told you there was no way I could live without it. From basement shows to stadiums, I spent many years being at probably at least one show a week. I’ve traveled all over the country for live music and I do believe it is one of the most pure, wholesome and good things this world has to offer.

About five months into the live music dry spell that became life-during-COVID, after live streams had long become old news, The Front Bottoms announced a drive-in show at Monmouth Park Racetrack. Within minutes I had a car of friends set on going, and though I was positive it was going to be a strange show, it was still a show. A real show. And I was thrilled.

On a warm night at the end of August, in the home stretch of a summer that didn’t really feel like summer at all, we sat in the parking lot of a racetrack, surrounded by cars staggered out like we were pieces on a checkers board, ready to see a show. My three friends and I parked ourselves atop my friends’ SUV, two of us on the hood, two of us on the roof - masks on, pool floats as pillows, clutching boxes of Girl Scout cookies and Diet Cokes, waiting to sing our hearts out.

It was golden hour when the show began. By the end, the moon was shining perfectly above the stage. The sea of cars honked their horns after each song. People were dancing on top of their cars and screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs. It was wholesome. It was perfect.

From January 2017 to January 2020, I basically was on tour non-stop. In December of 2019 alone we counted 18 flights! Gearing up for another busy spring, I returned to Los Angeles in February 2020, played two shows and bam! The world just stopped.

We all reacted differently to the loss of gigs, tours, livelihood and the more interpersonal losses of relationships, friends, events, gatherings and the simple lack of touch, hugs and interaction. It’s definitely been surreal and, at times, difficult. One interesting thing that’s happened is I’ve become very in tune with my own inner introvert. I’ve actually been enjoying all this time alone. More than I thought I would.

As many other artists have mentioned, it’s also been a productive time. I released six new singles in 2020. I’ve also been learning and working more on the production side, becoming a better mixing engineer and even doing some mastering work. I joined a group in Melbourne, Australia called Beat Collective where we make electronica songs in two weeks based on two samples from one of the members. It’s been super fun. Kind of like Iron Chef secret ingredients challenge with music!

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

This story starts when I was 12 years old…

I was sitting on the piano bench at my music teacher’s house, figuring out the song that I wanted to learn to play and sing at our annual recital. The song that stuck out to me was “When You Say Nothing at All” by Alison Krauss. As she placed the sheet music in front of me, I noticed “Written by Paul Overstreet” and that was the first time I ever learned what it meant to be a songwriter. I also learned that Alison Krauss had done her own rendition after it was originally sung by Keith Whitley. In that moment, I became fascinated by this beautiful song and little did I know that it would change my life forever!

Fast forward to when I was 18 years old…

I had just stumbled upon a singing competition in my home city of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. I had no idea exactly what I was about to get myself into but as I walked up to the venue, I could see camera crews and busy bodies with clipboards running all over the place. Turned out the competition was for CMT Canada’s Karaoke Star. As we were about to enter the venue, they made an announcement that they had to take a song off of the song list - which is the one I had chosen out of the three they suggested earlier - and it would be replaced with Alison Krauss version of “When You Say Nothing at All”. I almost cried right then and there, being that it was one of my favorites and the first song I had learned and studied in voice lessons all those years before.

To make a long story short, I went in, sung my heart out and got a call back that I had made it to the top 10. Shocked and beyond excited, I returned to the venue for the top 10 and before I got up to sing “When You Say Nothing at All” for the second time that day, I prayed that even if I didn’t win I just wanted to give the judges goosebumps. Much to my surprise and amazement, I ended up winning the competition and would be off to Toronto in a few months to tape the finale. When the show premiered on TV, I was able to see the behind-the-scenes comments, and in the green room while the judges were deciding the winner, the radio host said that the second I started singing he got goosebumps. Overwhelmed with emotion - I almost cried.

The whole experience of being on CMT Canada and heading to Toronto opened my eyes so much to the music industry and the possibilities that lay ahead for my love of performing. I got to meet some of Canada’s top artists and some great people in the industry – all because of Alison Krauss and her version of this song. From my experience on the show, I was inspired to take the steps to pursue music in Nashville, Tennessee, and a few years later, I obtained my work visa and was able to live out my dream in Music City.

Fast forward to three years ago….

Carrie – one of my best friends in Nashville – landed her dream job of tour assistant for Alison Krauss. She knew all about my story and how her song had such an impact on my life and music career. Carrie loves to make dreams come true and without me even asking, she offered me a pass to a show on Alison’s tour. The only date that worked for me just happened to be in Cincinnati, Ohio but I was determined to not miss this opportunity, so I hopped in the car and drove 4 ½ hours one way to make it.

The show was absolutely phenomenal and it almost brought me to tears listening to Alison’s beautiful voice captivate the entire theatre. You could feel the energy raise over the audience when she started “It’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart….” And again – I was overcome by emotion.

After the show – as I was about to leave – Carrie messaged me and asked if I would like a tour backstage. With zero hesitation, I said, “Yes!”

Mandy (left) and Carrie

Photo courtesy of Justin Irick

So I can’t speak for everyone in Practically Paradise, but for me, 2020 was an odd year and has continued to be in 2021.

When the shutdown first began back in March of 2020, it was an odd time for everyone. I work in the restaurant industry and my restaurant closed for a couple of weeks before opening back up for take-out only. When the lockdown went full force and we were closed, I basically stayed home. My roommate and I would do at-home workouts together, binge TV and watch classic movies like Flubber, Cool Runnings, etc. It was fun and helped with the boredom of being stuck at home when I wasn’t writing music. At this point in time, the band itself was actually a pipe dream with no songs tracked and just me thinking of pursuing Practically Paradise.

During the takeout-only period of my job, Practically Paradise had studio time booked and I was going to write and record with a couple of producers/writers in North Carolina. So in June I went to write and record our single “On Read”, which was released in the last month of 2020. It deals with being ghosted, something that was already commonplace in dating nowadays but the pandemic just made it easier for someone to ghost you due to us having to quarantine and all that. It was something I’ve experienced multiple times and I’m sure others have as well.

Photo courtesy of Jason Bennett

A year ago today, I was primed for what I thought would be an incredible 2020.

I had just finished recording some new tracks here at home in Canada at Chad Kroeger’s house with Chad and producers Mitch Merrett and Jeff Johnson. I had recently connected with all of them to create some new music together, and Jeff and I had just begun to write a song called “Too Strong”.

“Too Strong” is a song that developed accidentally when Jeff and I were just chatting about life. Guitars are never far away and before we knew it, we started riffing on the idea of how times aren’t always easy in relationships and they can present a choice between giving up or recognizing the value of our own strength and staying strong. We recorded three other songs and given that this was my first new music since 2018, I was especially excited to release these. But then – as everyone knows – the world changed and everything around me was different.

While writing and recording music is an incredible passion for me, touring and performing it are equally important. The stage is truly my second home and being able to connect with people through the language of music is essential for my own fulfillment as an artist and as a human.

The realization that my biggest passions in life were gone for the immediate future was crushing. As we found ourselves in lockdown last spring, I found myself in my car in an empty parking lot one night, emotionally spent, tears rolling down my face and wondering what was to come from all of this. I felt sad knowing that so many people had their own terrible situations that this pandemic has brought on, and I felt weak – and done. My life was usually crazy and all over the place, and I loved the pressure to succeed, but this was an entirely different kind of pressure. 

So this past year of quarantine/social distancing has been exhaustingly reflective. I may post a feel-good picture with my dog because she’s extremely cute. I can’t help it! But I have been tested this year, just as many others have been.

I remember in the beginning of 2020, every Instagram post was like, “2020 vision! This is our year!” I totally think we got the 2020 vision part, but that’s exactly what made it NOT our year. I’ve tried to really limit my social media usage; I’ve read Proof of Heaven, an SRV biography, Texas Flood, The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck, and now I’m reading Goldfinch.

I’ve binged on so many TV shows while playing my guitar. Most recently The Queen's Gambit. I’m in love with Anya-Taylor Joy and if I meet her I’ll propose immediately.

While practicing social distancing, listen to my latest song, "Please Don't Be Far":

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

One day my mum told me a story of the time she visited the Island of Hydra in Greece. She was travelling with her friends in April of 1975. On a sunny afternoon they were visiting the sea, sitting at the wharf while watching locals play backgammon. Suddenly, a young man approached their table requesting a light for his cigarette. My mum’s friend immediately recognized the glimmer in his eye...you guessed it, there was Leonard in the flesh. Sun-kissed flesh. Eventually it was revealed that everyone had roots in Montreal and so a cigarette light turned to an evening of illuminated conversation. My mum’s friend explained that she was a songwriter, and in need of a guitar while abroad. Being the gentleman (and woman-magnet) that he was, Leonard graciously offered her his nylon string to borrow. Leonard was on retreat in Greece, and had plenty more guitars to choose from. He invited everyone back to his place, where they sat in his kitchen surrounded by brick walls, open windows, sea breeze and homemade bread and chicken soup off the stove. My mum describes being so in awe of the unfolding events that she was caught speechless. She recalls watching Leonard flirt with her friend, and being in disbelief that she was sipping soup made by Leonard Cohen.

On the fourth of December 2012, almost 20,000 people gathered in Toronto’s Air Canada Centre to worship, weep, laugh and to bask in the world of Leonard Cohen. My mum and I had been counting down the days for this event. Leonard was nearly 78 at the time, but the way he greeted his adoring fans you wouldn’t have thought he was a day over 30. Limber, lean, leprechaun-like and suave as ever in his black suit, fedora and shiny shoes. The classic Cohen look. He ran on stage with legs that carried him as if he was floating on air. His long fingers holding the microphone with a gentle strength, and perhaps a touch of arthritis. His eyes were cast into shadow by the brim of his hat. Suddenly he looked up into the vast space and his slight smile was illuminated. Perched in the top seating section, my mum and I felt the distance dissolve. It was as if Leonard was in arm’s reach. He seemed so at home amongst this sea of faces, he welcomed us with warmth and wit. That was the night a colossal stadium transformed into a temple, an intimate tower of song.

Soon the booming applause turned to silence as Cohen set the stage with “Dance Me to the End of Love”. Gracefully he lowered himself to his knees, as if praying on the rug while he delivered “Bird on a Wire”. The cabaret-style melodies were woven together by gentle high-hats, sensual bass lines and a fiddle, adding a flirtatious zest. The nine-piece band played as if they shared one body, and Leonard was the ringmaster. Each song guided us into a different state of mind, memories flooding in for both my mum and I. He seemed to transcend human form, and yet was so deeply real. He whispered with a slight growl, “The older you get, the more lonely you become, and the more love you need...There ain’t no cure for love.”

When the time came for “Hallelujah” the audience was primed and ready. The silence was so palpable that you could almost feel it surrounding you like a veil. I took my mum’s hand and we exchanged a glowing glance as the guitar progression touched our ears. “I heard there was a secret chord..” The silence broke for a brief moment with feverish applause, people rose to their feet, then together we landed in a meditative stillness. The people in our row became our neighbours, as we joined voices and the entire stadium sang in harmony through the chorus. We shared this brief moment in time where no matter who you were, no matter what seat you could or couldn’t afford, we were all together in a shared reality. Heartbeats synchronizing and voices melding into one resounding “Hallelujah.”

Long-time collaborators of Cohen’s, The Webb Sisters and Sharon Robinson chimed in with their gospel-like harmonies. I remember the goosebumps cloaking my body, and the tears flowing through me from the depth of my belly. This song that I had heard hundreds of times, this song sung by hundreds of artists was suddenly new to my ears. Landing with fresh mystery and an undiscovered depth, I closed my eyes and let the collective voice wash over me like the medicine I didn’t know I needed. My mum and I wept and sang together, feeling closer and more aligned for having shared this sacred moment. It was as if we were sitting in Leonard’s kitchen, enjoying homecooked songs. The word-wizard, the musical magician that I worshipped became the human that I will continue to admire. There are times when I pick up my guitar and think of his chapped hands holding his acoustic on stage that night. He caressed the strings with an intimacy I will never forget. I imagine Leonard is hanging out in a place where the drinks are cold, the songs are flowing and there is a fedora for every occasion.

Photo courtesy of Jordan Altergott

I have tried writing this piece five separate times but nothing seems quite right.

I know it’s been like this for all of us, but 2020 was quite the whirlwind for me. I’m still a full-time college student, working two jobs, all on top of being a full-time musician.

2020 didn’t go the way I hoped, even after we had all adapted to the copious amount of free time. I signed up for MasterClass and never touched it. I made all these goals and achieved exactly zero of them. I wish so badly that I could say lockdown was everything I needed to get myself into gear and hit the ground running, but it wasn’t. 

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what Elsewhere vocalist/guitarist Michael Aroian had to say: 

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design