facebook twitter instagram flickr youtube spotify
  • Home
  • Interviews
  • Features
    • A Day in the Life: Social Distancing
    • Books with Beauchanes
    • Chimneyside Chats
    • Deep Dishin'
    • King of the Road
    • The Moment I Knew I Wanted To Make Music
    • The Time I Cried At A Show
    • Tinsel and Trivia
  • Reviews
    • Album Reviews
    • Book Reviews
    • Live Reviews
  • Blog
  • Contact

Black is the New AP Style

Photo courtesy of Will Shellhorn

I always knew I loved music, but I didn’t know I couldn’t live without it until I didn’t have it. When I went to NYU to play basketball and study finance, I had it in my head that I would pursue opportunities in music on the side - as if that’s how it works. I even wrote in my basketball profile bio, “Aspires to either work on Wall Street or become a singer/songwriter.” I was naive and afraid. Naive to the fact that defying all odds takes everything you’ve got, not just what’s left over. And afraid of jumping ship without any sight of land or another ship. But here I am, going on a few years of treading water wondering if my legs or my lungs will give out first.

The moment I knew I was going to make music as a career was not when I jumped; it was when I wound myself up so hard that not jumping would have left me so unbalanced that I would’ve gone overboard anyway. It was the summer of 2019, when I worked a miserable unpaid internship in FiDi while living in Washington Heights. My commute was an hour each way. I was working from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday through Friday, then going to work out for two to three hours, and finally making it back to my apartment around 9 p.m. or so where I ate my first meal of the day. On top of everything, I had no piano, no guitar, no way of writing or playing music. The real punchline is that I’m sure there would have been a lot of great melodramatic songs that came out of that summer had I been able to write them.

Around the end of that summer, my whole perspective changed. My biggest music influence growing up, Ben Folds, came to town for an event talking with Sara Bareilles about his new memoir. It was at the Cooper Union near Washington Square, so I was back on my “old” NYU stomping grounds. I remember walking around to kill some time before the event started, listening to my favorite Ben Folds music. Then his song “Evaporated” came on my playlist. It was my first-ever concert in 2014 (which led me to write my first song a few weeks later) and I’d seen him perform four times since then, but he had never played that song. I remember it resonating with me more than usual. I remember letting myself feel emotions I’d been pretending I didn’t have. I remember pressing “replay”. Again. And again. I remember thinking, “I need him to play this tonight. I need to hear this tonight.”

At the event, Ben and Sara talked for about an hour. I hung onto every word - listening to two people who dedicated their lives to doing exactly what I wanted to do, talking about what it’s taken to actually do it. At the end, sure enough, he went over to the grand piano onstage and announced that he’d be playing a couple of songs before signing our copies of the book. He launched into a beautiful, more recent song of his, “So There”, as the audience all practically craned their necks in unison to see his hands move across the keys. When he finished, he started describing the writing process of the song he was going to play next. “I sat down at the piano and played these two notes over and over again,” he said (loosely), “And it somehow perfectly described the emotional state I was in.” I already knew what song it was and I could already feel my eyes start to tear up.

“What I’ve kept with me/And what I’ve thrown away/And where the hell I’ve ended up on this glary, random day/Were the things I really cared about/Just left along the way/For being too pent up and proud?” That’s how the song starts. I felt every word as deep as one can feel words, maybe even deeper. For a moment, it was unclear what were my own thoughts in my head and what was being sung on stage. All at once, I realized exactly what had made this summer so miserable and what I needed to do to change and get things back on track, even though I had no idea how to do it yet.

The rest of the evening was a blur besides when I met Ben which seemed to move in slow motion. I shook his hand and told him how I started writing songs because of him and how the first song I ever wrote was basically a rip-off of his song “Fred Jones, Pt. II” and how grateful I was for all his music had done for me. A flurry of words carefully crafted to let him know how he fits into my life story, while simultaneously conveying to him between the lines that I’d love to work with him someday and that I believe it will happen. You know… keeping it cool. But he was so gracious and humble; he looked at me and said something like, “That’s exactly how it’s supposed to start. If this is what you want to do then you gotta just keep going.”

I didn’t know it yet, but I was ready to jump - properly wound up, far past the point of no return. Over the next year, I discovered just how necessary the jump was. I think most of that discovery was realizing that sure, it’s scary to jump ship with no sight of land or another ship, but less so if said ship is on fire. Then you’d better put as much distance between you and the ship as possible. I think the biggest lesson I learned from that summer is that I was on a sinking ship, and I could either go down with it or I could jump into the water and pray it was warm.

Turns out it’s not too bad down here. It’s just pruned fingers, sunburns and every shade of endless blue. Like I said, it’s tiring treading water, but at least I’ve floated far away from the ship’s wreckage by now. I almost can’t even remember being on the ship at all. And I have no choice but to believe that if I tread water long enough, I’ll wash up on some shore eventually.
March 23, 2023 No comments

Growing up in a small town in Maine, I learned very quickly that I didn’t exactly fit in with most of the other kids.

While my friends were playing outside, I was discovering “Make It Big” by Wham! and “Please Please Me” by the Beatles. I spent countless hours exploring my parents’ record collection, finding old instruments in the basement (or even the dump) and writing songs in my room. My father tried to get me interested in sports, but I just couldn’t find the same passion for it. Music was my calling.

To my benefit, my parents recognized very early on that music was my thing. They encouraged me to pursue my dreams, even if it wasn’t a traditional career path. From open mic nights to American Idol auditions, they did everything to get me there and were my biggest cheerleaders. They saw the joy it brought me and knew that I had the potential to do great things with it.

As I grew older, the infatuation intensified. I started taking lessons, performing at local events and collaborating with other musicians in the area. I was always seeking to improve my skills and learn more about music theory, composition and performance.

By age 15, I was recording and releasing my own music and playing shows booked by my best friend, Jason, who just so happens to now be my manager.

Now, 20+ years into my career, I can confidently say that choosing a life of music was the best decision. I’ve had the opportunity to perform on stages across the country, collaborate with some of the most talented musicians in the industry and share my music with countless people. It has given me a sense of purpose and fulfillment that I never could have found in any other career. It all started with the unwavering support of my family and my own passion to step out and be a little weird.

March 21, 2023 No comments

Photo courtesy of Emma Lee Photography

I was home-schooled until my university years, so my family and I had the chance to travel to the United States quite a bit. Given that there are a lot more country radio stations in the United States than back home near Montreal, I was initially introduced to the country music genre that way. My mom also introduced me to singers like Shania Twain, Reba McEntire, Lady A and Carrie Underwood, and through these experiences, I fell in love with the genre for its down-to-earth lyrics and catchy melodies.

When I was 11, I was hospitalized for sepsis and a burst appendix. I spent three weeks in the hospital recovering from an invasive surgery. I was just a few weeks from turning 12 years old and I felt as though I had gotten a second chance at life. As odd as that might sound coming from a 12-year-old, experiences like the one I had just gone through really did change my view about life.

At the time, I also heard about this 13-year-old opera singer who was rapidly rising to fame for being so talented. I figured if she could do it, I probably could as well.

I began taking singing classes and tried to sing opera. I entered a variety of competitions and won first place when I was 13 years old. Winning first place meant that I got the chance to tour Quebec and parts of Ontario with a brass band and have my own set. That experience really made me enjoy performing on stage. I continued to sing opera music until I was 15 years old. Even so, I had no attachment to the genre, so I decided to switch to country music after a conversation with my singing teacher. I’m sure that my first trip to Nashville a year earlier might have had something to do with that. Once I started singing country music, I began to write it as well.

When I was 16 years old, I got the chance to return to Nashville for the second time and to perform at the Bluebird Cafe during an open mic night. It’s a moment I will forever remember because it was a step forward towards being the performer I wanted to be in the city where I wanted to do it. It was the moment I wanted to make music and share stories that I believed that listeners would relate to and that maybe someday, I would be able to share their stories as well.

Today, I live most of the year in Nashville. I’ve written and performed with amazing musicians around town and I’m wrapping up my debut EP of tracks I’ve recorded right here in town. Never would 13-year-old me singing opera have ever believed that I would be living out my country music dream in Nashville. But here I am, and this dream came true.
March 07, 2023 No comments
Photo courtesy of Jessica Paige Photography

Music was a part of my world before I was even born. It runs through me.

My grandpa was a fantastic country musician, playing in a band in the early 1970s. That music gene was passed down to my dad and my aunts, who are incredible singers and players. I remember countless evenings, curled up by the campfire while they played the nights away.

I grew up surrounded by music, and I just blossomed right into it. I was always singing and dancing as a child, and really connected with music from a young age. I started piano lessons at the age of 6, and I used to make up these whole musicals and elaborate concerts that I would make my relatives sit and watch. It was mostly me just improvising lyrics on the spot!

I always wanted to be a “star” and had this huge sense of confidence. It wasn’t until I started tuning into pop and modern music culture that I realized it was my true desire to make music in a professional way.

A huge turning point happened when I was about 12 years old and Taylor Swift came onto the scene. I was enamoured. I wanted to do that so bad… to write my own songs and play them. I convinced my dad to teach me the basic chords on guitar, and I completely dedicated myself to it. I started posting cover videos on YouTube, and writing my own songs on guitar and piano. Then I joined choir, band, vocal jazz, and basically immersed myself into all music outlets.

These experiences brought me to where I am today…

I truly believe I was born to make music.
January 03, 2023 No comments

There were a few pivotal moments in my life that cemented how much I wanted to be a musician. I had been taking guitar lessons since about age 8 or 9 but I had my first taste of “success” at 11 years old, and boy was it intoxicating. I was the lead singer of my 6th grade band, The Keepers Of Peace, and somehow we were able to enter a local Battle of The Bands in Iowa City, where I was living at the time. We performed in front of a crowd of nearly 1,000 people and won second place among grown adults and professional bands. It was most likely the cuteness factor that led to our win (how do you crush the dreams of three 11-year-olds?) but it was the first time I ever felt like a “rockstar” and it made me want to chase this music dream forever.

Fast forward to my senior year of high school, where I was graduating from a public school in rural Vermont. Throughout my high school years, I’d played a lot of shows at my school auditorium and a few local events and venues, but never ventured out into the wider world. I got the opportunity to attend GRAMMY Camp, a camp run by the GRAMMY Foundation for kids interested in going into the music industry. While at GRAMMY Camp, I had the opportunity to perform at the GRAMMY Museum, meet legends like Ryan Seacrest and AJ McLean, and play at the historic El Rey Theater. Most importantly, I was around other people who all wanted a career in music, and it no longer felt like just a “fantasy”.

Finally, there was a turning point where my partner Greg and I realized we wanted to make music together. We had been dating for a year and were both singers but kept in our own lanes (I was doing the singer-songwriter thing and he was doing musical theater). On a whim we decided to host a cabaret, titled “You And Me (But Mostly Me)” at The Duplex in New York. The cabaret went over so well that we ended up doing it again in Greg’s hometown of Austin and later again for an off-Broadway series. We then happened to get a residency at the Nomo SoHo, where we had free reign to perform whatever we’d like for three hours every week. That allowed us to hone our craft and really learn how to vibe off each other. This eventually caught the eye of GRAMMY-winning producer Mr. Sonic, who signed us to his label and started producing what would turn into Fab The Duo's debut EP, Our Love Is Resistance.

This past year has been an incredible year for Fab The Duo. We recently released our debut album, Mascara Revolution, went on our first headlining tour and opened for incredible artists like Betty Who. None of this would have happened without those three turning points in my life that showed me that music is the direction I must take.

- Brendan Eprile, Fab The Duo
November 10, 2022 No comments
Photo courtesy of Fabian Di Corcia

It marks no surprise to family, friends, teachers or even enemies that I have chosen to pursue a career in music. As a kid, an early crop of red flags emerged as pigtailed performances as Baby Spice became a weekly meal of its own, to be served as an accompaniment to the roasted rack of lamb and garlic mashed potatoes of Sunday family dinner. 

Further cause for concern was my elementary school pivot into the world of folk and country music. Family car rides became a stomping ground for the sparkle and shine of Shania Twain and the low rumble of James Taylor. I began to learn the fundamentals of classical music in the Toronto Children’s Chorus, and as such I developed lofty opinions on the likes of Bach and Beethoven.

Daily, I put my family’s patience in the hands of some of the best (and much of the worst) songwriting that this planet has paid host. The morning could begin with Aqua’s “Barbie Girl”, but that does not mean that Green Day’s “American Idiot” was not going to be immediately queued up next.

I never gave much thought to the art of making a song. I had figured that they just sort of cropped up organically, like some sort of apple tree. At this point I had entered a specialized high school for gifted musicians. As a class, we travelled outside the city to a camp, getting to know each other and participating in team-building exercises. 

On the final evening we gathered around a stage, on which sat a baby grand piano, lit by the kind of spotlight so hot that it could cook an egg. I was eager to step on stage and sing any number of songs in my catalogue; the aforementioned James Taylor, Michael Bublé, or maybe a little Rihanna.

One by one, individuals took the stage, sat behind the piano bench and began to introduce themselves… and the song that they themselves had written. In that moment I felt something that I had never experienced; a soul searing jealousy, and an unshakeable admiration. Never, not once, not in my whole life had I thought about writing my own music.

I did not sing anything that night. I did not sing because in that moment I realized that I was no longer going to be singing “Sweet Baby James” or lip-syncing to the Spice Girls - I was going to make my own songs.
November 01, 2022 No comments
Older Posts Home

Follow Us

Featured Video

Featured Gallery

Steve Aoki, Timmy Trumpet, Dr. Phunk

Featured Playlist

Copyright © 2016- Black is the New AP Style | Designed by Crisanne Glasser

Designed By | Distributed By GooyaabiTemplates