I have lived through multiple sides of the music industry as a singer-songwriter (more than I’d like to admit). Some of it has broken me, some if it has taught me, and some of it has empowered me. But all of it worked together to create what is authentically…me. I’ll be forever grateful for my experiences thus far.

Growing up in Billerica, Massachusetts, I spent years honing my voice in my bedroom. I’d crank up the music extremely loud and sing at the top of my lungs so that my voice would blend into the loud volume of the speakers and no one could hear me in case I sucked. I was drumming in myh basement throughout that time too. Fast forward, I’m playing drums for a band in my late teen years, then I figured out I could actually take singing seriously when we need to replace our singer. After getting a new drummer and writing an album in a very short amount of time, we were signed way too fast while barely being in our early twenties. I didn’t know what the f*** I was doing, but I knew people liked the songs. The years that followed took me to Nashville and into co-writing sessions with some of the industry’s most renowned songwriters and respected names, including (but not limited to) Craig Wiseman (Blake Shelton, Jason Aldean), Joey Moi (Morgan Wallen, Nickelback), Marti Frederiksen (Aerosmith, Ozzy Osbourne), and Blair Daly (Kelly Clarkson, Backstreet Boys), and all of them helped deepen my “craft” at some of the highest songwriting levels. Experiences I will forever cherish. Some are still good friends and I’m forever grateful for that.

Then life happened. I returned home to New England, my roots. My wife and I started a family, and I had to get a real job. I wanted to be there during the first years of my two boys. I couldn’t imagine being on some sort of tour while either of our newborn sons were at home, or for when they learned their first steps, riding a bike, first day of school, you name it. Looking back, I would have made the same decision, but I never stopped writing songs when the moment called for it. It has been my therapy throughout my life (and I’ve seen my fair share of therapists that don’t come close to what music has been able to do for me). I was also lucky enough to keep my chops up at Blue on Highland in Needham, MA which allowed me to focus on raising a young family and working to provide the best life possible for them. The weekly gig had provided a newfound joy in playing strictly for the love of it again. It provided even more of an authentic foundation as to why I started music in the first place. Music, family, friends, those have and always will be the backbone.

What most people don’t know is that music has always been something deeper for me than just a career. Since my early teens, I’ve battled with inattentive ADHD, dyslexia, anxiety/panic disorder, depression, depersonalization, and imposter syndrome. Somewhere along the way I discovered that putting a song together from a dark place, hearing the pieces finally click, and then finding the courage to share it with the world was the closest thing to a medicine that actually worked for me. Not because it fixed anything, but because people would hear it and say, “that’s me.” That moment, when someone else finds hope in something you wrote alone while at your lowest, is what has kept me coming back to my music roots my entire life.

Now, I’m about to start releasing music again. Not to chase what was, but to say what I couldn’t have said before. My life and my lyrics have a lot more to cover these days rather than some ex girlfriend in some breakup song.

My sound sits firmly at the intersection of what I call, “New England Americana,” and Folk Rock: raw, honest, and weathered in the best ways (in my humble opinion). While it carries the emotional weight, it carries unguarded lyricism, and a distinct New England edge that I simply can’t deny. So, my roots. You’ll be hearing a lot about those as long as I’m able to write and as long as platforms exist. Thanks for stopping by to check out my story.