Drew Stiles' self-titled debut solo joint is now available:
Goddamn I love music. I grew up in a family of musicians, so it all started from day one. My Dad played trumpet with a lot of the greats: James Brown, Ella Fitzgerald, Tony Bennet... As a kid who felt alienated from human beings, music was my connection with the race to which I supposedly belonged. Music was my friend - music, my dog and Mister Rogers.
The first two records I owned were the Beatles’ Abbey Road and Jackson Five’s ABC. As a pre-teen, I developed an appetite for hard rock, devouring the music of Kiss, Aerosmith, Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Sabbath... which all led to Hendrix, Stones, Beatles... Earth Wind and Fire, Sly Stone, James Brown... Iggy and the Stooges, Meat Puppets, Bad Brains... The turning point really came when I was introduced to the artist who was to become a lifelong influence and my musical hero: Phil Collins. Tee hee, giggly wiggly!
I learned to play guitar, bass and drums by playing along to these bands. Somewhere in there I found my own voice, and songs started to pop into my head. So I started fronting some hard-ass rock bands, ultimately resulting in the creation of Yummy , with its kick-you-in-the-teeth ferocity and brash, cocky humor, screaming out against it all.
There’s nothing like being in a well-oiled rock band at the top of its game, wielding maximum power, showing up in some town like a conquering army. We've had live shows where I felt invincible, a complete loss of self, like a puppet for the gods. So yeah, rock = good. But while I was out there screaming and jumping around like some crazed lunatic banshee, I actually had this quiet, shy side to me, a part of me that was sort of obscured by the persona that i was projecting through my music.
Eventually, the soft stuff started making its way into my songs. I’d be like, ‘ah, phooey, what happened to dem shits about “titty balls†and “motherfuckers?†But other stuff was showing up. It was super tender and soul-baring, so I’d record it in private. And that was the beginning of my '4track stage', this singer/songwriter stuff.
At first, I didn’t let anyone hear it. It was just for me - too revealing, I suppose. I finally gave a CD to a close friend and he loved it. I played it for a few more people. More love. I started growing into it, allowing it some space, and more and more songs arrived. It turns out that soft is harder than the hardest hardness, not unlike a holocaust of love, a gentle-side genocide, a kitten purr KAPOW! I am no longer afraid. Mine tears hath dried. And I love you all - even Phil Collins. Yet again, I am JK. Sorry, Phil.
So now, with your permission, I will bust your shit up with my soft-ass love.
Rock on...
