I have a real blog now - June 22, 2009
Go to www.adamtrapani.blogspot.com to see it!
Adam Trapani: Journal
A little bored... - June 22, 2009
I’ve tried garlic. I’ve tried razor blades. I’ve tried acid. I’ve tried liquid nitrogen.
The warts are winning.
Some 6 word stories for you:
I should have known she knew.
The cancer would come back again.
The guitar player stood there, listening.
In one year he changed everything.
The placenta smelled like garlic bread.
You would never guess who won.
The lion roared, the soldier fell.
In the landfill the evidence disappeared.
Black dad. White mom. Beautiful girl.
She was a virgin, but sinful.
She didn’t realize that he knew.
He came to get over it.
Sometimes I’m good. Sometimes I’m bad.
I never lie. That’s a lie.
The chocolate covered her whole body.
I said “I do,” but didn’t.
Skating naked has never been better.
We climbed in and were gone.
His accent made him even sexier.
Digging for gold, she fell in.
A.T.
The warts are winning.
Some 6 word stories for you:
I should have known she knew.
The cancer would come back again.
The guitar player stood there, listening.
In one year he changed everything.
The placenta smelled like garlic bread.
You would never guess who won.
The lion roared, the soldier fell.
In the landfill the evidence disappeared.
Black dad. White mom. Beautiful girl.
She was a virgin, but sinful.
She didn’t realize that he knew.
He came to get over it.
Sometimes I’m good. Sometimes I’m bad.
I never lie. That’s a lie.
The chocolate covered her whole body.
I said “I do,” but didn’t.
Skating naked has never been better.
We climbed in and were gone.
His accent made him even sexier.
Digging for gold, she fell in.
A.T.
Too much wine, not enough sleep, and a wrong turn. My story of the Tour de Cure. - June 8, 2009
I went to bed at 3:30 am. I woke up at 5:00 am. I could still taste the pinot.
I packed my bike and riding gear into the car and drove to Springfield to participate in a 100 mile bike ride to raise money for, and awareness about diabetes. My training had consisted of occasional beach cruiser rides around the neighborhood, a 5 mile bike ride to work and a couple of road rides with friends. I had lost my bag of riding gear the previous summer, so for the diabetes ride I begged a helmet, a jersey, and even a pair of padded spandex cycling shorts from a (hesitant) friend. Me, prepared? You bet.
I met my friend and riding partner, Christian, at the starting line and when the gun went off, we pedaled away. I didn't tell him that there wasn't a chance in Hell that I would finish the ride. Instead, I brainstormed, trying to find an excuse for stopping the ride early. I was conjuring up a plan to fall off my bike and twist an ankle when Christian announced that he, too, wasn't prepared to ride his bike 100 miles. He had been working too much, he said, and hadn't ridden his bike for months. So we did what any good friends would do and we brainstormed together excuses for pulling out of the ride early.
Then I remembered that I had made a promise to finish the ride. So we rode.
We rode and we talked about girls. We rode and we talked about politics. We rode and we talked about nothing. We rode until our legs hurt, our lungs hurt and we were panting. Then we finished our first 10 miles.
By mile 40 we were in a groove and riding at a comfortable clip. We felt strong. We were beginning to realize that we might actually finish this thing.
At mile 60 we stopped to eat a snack and stretch under the shade of a tree. We relaxed for 15 minutes before getting on our bikes. It would only be 10 miles to the next rest stop, so we decided it would be fun to ride the leg at a fast pace. We turned and rode, with the wind at our back, as hard as we could. The miles went by quickly now, and we smiled as we glided through the beautiful country scenery. We knew that 10 miles of hard pedaling would bring us to an aid station with bananas, sandwiches, electrolite drinks and some much-needed rest. But after 11 miles with no sign of a rest stop, we began to wonder if we had taken a wrong turn. Then it was confirmed by a local man who's door we knocked on. Then we realized that we would have to pedal back against a strong wind. Then we realized that we would end up riding 122 miles. Then we started crying.
And so we rode, silently suffering, back to the 60 mile marker.
The rest of the ride went smoothly. When the officials learned about our wrong turn, they allowed us a short cut that saved 7 miles. Around mile 85 (mile 100 for us) , I was starting to suffer and slow down drastically, so Christian rode ahead. At one mile to go (mile 115), I decided to finish strong and push hard, picturing hundreds of cheering people awaiting my arrival with confetti, pounding music, and delicious barbeque. My heart pounding, my legs tired, and my lungs burning, I sprinted around the last corner and crossed the finish line, blowing kisses and waiving to a crowd that had left hours earlier. There was no music. There were no hundreds of screaming supporters. There was no confetti. There were just 3 friends, who had endured a long day of volunteering, cheering wildly. And there was Christian, holding a to-go box of leftover barbecue that he had saved for me when the caterers had packed up for the day. We smiled at each other and high-fived, and when I tried to stand, I fell over.
I was the second to last rider to cross the line. My average speed was laughable. I looked ridiculous in spandex and with blotches of sun burned skin. But I made good on my promise. Because of that, I was able to sleep well that night. In fact, I slept well for 15 hours.
May we all keep our promises, even when we're not prepared.
Adam
I packed my bike and riding gear into the car and drove to Springfield to participate in a 100 mile bike ride to raise money for, and awareness about diabetes. My training had consisted of occasional beach cruiser rides around the neighborhood, a 5 mile bike ride to work and a couple of road rides with friends. I had lost my bag of riding gear the previous summer, so for the diabetes ride I begged a helmet, a jersey, and even a pair of padded spandex cycling shorts from a (hesitant) friend. Me, prepared? You bet.
I met my friend and riding partner, Christian, at the starting line and when the gun went off, we pedaled away. I didn't tell him that there wasn't a chance in Hell that I would finish the ride. Instead, I brainstormed, trying to find an excuse for stopping the ride early. I was conjuring up a plan to fall off my bike and twist an ankle when Christian announced that he, too, wasn't prepared to ride his bike 100 miles. He had been working too much, he said, and hadn't ridden his bike for months. So we did what any good friends would do and we brainstormed together excuses for pulling out of the ride early.
Then I remembered that I had made a promise to finish the ride. So we rode.
We rode and we talked about girls. We rode and we talked about politics. We rode and we talked about nothing. We rode until our legs hurt, our lungs hurt and we were panting. Then we finished our first 10 miles.
By mile 40 we were in a groove and riding at a comfortable clip. We felt strong. We were beginning to realize that we might actually finish this thing.
At mile 60 we stopped to eat a snack and stretch under the shade of a tree. We relaxed for 15 minutes before getting on our bikes. It would only be 10 miles to the next rest stop, so we decided it would be fun to ride the leg at a fast pace. We turned and rode, with the wind at our back, as hard as we could. The miles went by quickly now, and we smiled as we glided through the beautiful country scenery. We knew that 10 miles of hard pedaling would bring us to an aid station with bananas, sandwiches, electrolite drinks and some much-needed rest. But after 11 miles with no sign of a rest stop, we began to wonder if we had taken a wrong turn. Then it was confirmed by a local man who's door we knocked on. Then we realized that we would have to pedal back against a strong wind. Then we realized that we would end up riding 122 miles. Then we started crying.
And so we rode, silently suffering, back to the 60 mile marker.
The rest of the ride went smoothly. When the officials learned about our wrong turn, they allowed us a short cut that saved 7 miles. Around mile 85 (mile 100 for us) , I was starting to suffer and slow down drastically, so Christian rode ahead. At one mile to go (mile 115), I decided to finish strong and push hard, picturing hundreds of cheering people awaiting my arrival with confetti, pounding music, and delicious barbeque. My heart pounding, my legs tired, and my lungs burning, I sprinted around the last corner and crossed the finish line, blowing kisses and waiving to a crowd that had left hours earlier. There was no music. There were no hundreds of screaming supporters. There was no confetti. There were just 3 friends, who had endured a long day of volunteering, cheering wildly. And there was Christian, holding a to-go box of leftover barbecue that he had saved for me when the caterers had packed up for the day. We smiled at each other and high-fived, and when I tried to stand, I fell over.
I was the second to last rider to cross the line. My average speed was laughable. I looked ridiculous in spandex and with blotches of sun burned skin. But I made good on my promise. Because of that, I was able to sleep well that night. In fact, I slept well for 15 hours.
May we all keep our promises, even when we're not prepared.
Adam
We were great, and no one will ever know. - September 18, 2008
We were in the pocket and it was beautiful. I was looking across the stage at Matt, who was weaving his rhythms tightly with Shannon's and I smiled. Matt saw me and smiled back. We were relaxed. We were precise. We were playing the best we have ever played together. I'm sure it sounded great.
Nobody was listening.
It was our second trip to Indiana; our second chance at winning over a fresh crowd. We had played there a month earlier-opening for our friend's band-and had enjoyed an enthusiastic crowd response even though we thought we played terribly. I had suffered from a migraine on stage that night and we had stumbled through our set, missing harmonies, forgetting the words, playing the wrong parts, and trying-unsuccesfully-to laugh it off. It was sickening. Still, the crowd seemed to take to us and by the end of the set I watched as a line of people formed to buy our t-shirts. I didn't understand it, and truthfully, in my dizzy, sickened state, I didn't care. I wanted to go home.
This time around would be different. We had practiced and practiced until we couldn't bare it. We knew what to expect from the sound of the room and we knew the limitations of the stage. We were ready for redemption. We hopped in the van and drove for hours while talking about politics, sex, philosophy and music. We arrived at the venue early, had dinner and a beer, ran a quick soundcheck and then played. We played effortlessly and beautifully. We were at the top of our game. It was the best show we have ever played.
Nobody was listening.
Nobody bought t-shirts.
It didn't matter. It was pure joy.
Nobody was listening.
It was our second trip to Indiana; our second chance at winning over a fresh crowd. We had played there a month earlier-opening for our friend's band-and had enjoyed an enthusiastic crowd response even though we thought we played terribly. I had suffered from a migraine on stage that night and we had stumbled through our set, missing harmonies, forgetting the words, playing the wrong parts, and trying-unsuccesfully-to laugh it off. It was sickening. Still, the crowd seemed to take to us and by the end of the set I watched as a line of people formed to buy our t-shirts. I didn't understand it, and truthfully, in my dizzy, sickened state, I didn't care. I wanted to go home.
This time around would be different. We had practiced and practiced until we couldn't bare it. We knew what to expect from the sound of the room and we knew the limitations of the stage. We were ready for redemption. We hopped in the van and drove for hours while talking about politics, sex, philosophy and music. We arrived at the venue early, had dinner and a beer, ran a quick soundcheck and then played. We played effortlessly and beautifully. We were at the top of our game. It was the best show we have ever played.
Nobody was listening.
Nobody bought t-shirts.
It didn't matter. It was pure joy.
Request "I Used to Travel Alone" on 102.9 The Buzz Nashville - August 19, 2008
102.9 The Buzz in Nashville has started spinning "I Used to Travel Alone" on Sunday night's "Local Buzz."
Call them and tell them you want more! The request line is 615-737-1029.
Tune in each Sunday night between 9 and 12 to hear the song, along with other great Nashville originals.
Call them and tell them you want more! The request line is 615-737-1029.
Tune in each Sunday night between 9 and 12 to hear the song, along with other great Nashville originals.
102.9 The Buzz this Sunday - August 15, 2008
We'll be doing a live on-air performance in Nashville this Sunday night on 102.9 the Buzz.
I'm pretty excited, and a little nervous. The last time I did one of these, I forgot the lyrics and played the wrong notes. Other than that it went just fine! Hopefully this will be a redemption.
We go on sometime between 9pm and midnight and will be performing "Hit."
Tune in. Wish us luck.
Adam
I'm pretty excited, and a little nervous. The last time I did one of these, I forgot the lyrics and played the wrong notes. Other than that it went just fine! Hopefully this will be a redemption.
We go on sometime between 9pm and midnight and will be performing "Hit."
Tune in. Wish us luck.
Adam
8/5 Show Cancelled - August 4, 2008
Tuesday's show at Loudhouse in Greenbrier has been cancelled. Sorry for the inconvenience. Stay tuned for more dates.
Adam
Adam
I slept in the van again. For old time's sake. - June 21, 2008
I slept in the van again. For old time's sake.
I was heading north for the weekend. With Paul Simon's "Graceland" blaring through the speakers, I was making my own pilgrimage in the form of a road trip. I was heading home. To see my old house. To see my old school. To see an old friend. To see my dad's grave. I was going to New York.
I headed out early in the evening and drove late into the night. As I drove, I reminisced about the days before I settled in Nashville, when I was traveling the country and living in my minivan. "Such freedom!" I thought to myself. "Such adventure!" Seeing a rest stop on the side of the highway, I pulled in, jumped in the back, kicked up my feet and went to bed. For old time's sake. Sleeping in the van like a man broken free of all restrictions and responsibilities.
I woke up a few hours later with a sore neck, completely soaked in sweat. During the night the summer heat had turned the van into a small oven and it was cooking me. My allergies were blazing. It was hot. I was sore. I couldn't stop sneezing. I was sleeping in a van, for old time's sake.
Some memories are better left as memories.
The rest of the trip was a wonderful success. I saw all of the things I had wanted to see. I met with all of the people I had wanted to meet with. I slept on beds in air-conditioned hotel rooms.
May we never lose our sense of adventure, and may we continue to enjoy the comforts we have earned.
Adam
I was heading north for the weekend. With Paul Simon's "Graceland" blaring through the speakers, I was making my own pilgrimage in the form of a road trip. I was heading home. To see my old house. To see my old school. To see an old friend. To see my dad's grave. I was going to New York.
I headed out early in the evening and drove late into the night. As I drove, I reminisced about the days before I settled in Nashville, when I was traveling the country and living in my minivan. "Such freedom!" I thought to myself. "Such adventure!" Seeing a rest stop on the side of the highway, I pulled in, jumped in the back, kicked up my feet and went to bed. For old time's sake. Sleeping in the van like a man broken free of all restrictions and responsibilities.
I woke up a few hours later with a sore neck, completely soaked in sweat. During the night the summer heat had turned the van into a small oven and it was cooking me. My allergies were blazing. It was hot. I was sore. I couldn't stop sneezing. I was sleeping in a van, for old time's sake.
Some memories are better left as memories.
The rest of the trip was a wonderful success. I saw all of the things I had wanted to see. I met with all of the people I had wanted to meet with. I slept on beds in air-conditioned hotel rooms.
May we never lose our sense of adventure, and may we continue to enjoy the comforts we have earned.
Adam
The Good, the Bad, and the Bloody Lip. - June 20, 2008
It has been said more than once that one man's pain is another man's entertainment.
That is a saying, right?
Sunday night, I put that saying to the test; albeit accidentally. We played a great show which included audience bubble-blowing, a human water cannon, the Macarena, new songs, and a vote to determine our next cover song. It was one of those nights that just felt good. We were in the pocket. I was in a good mood. The soundman had the mix just right. The stars were aligned perfectly. And then, in the snap of a finger (or rather, the splitting of a lip), the night's magic took a royal turn.
I got hit in the face by Matt's bass, and my mouth was suddenly bleeding all over the place. Uh oh.
I had been running around the stage (sometimes it's the only exercise I get) and Matt was facing away from me. I jumped, Matt turned, my mouth collided with his bass and BAM!, my teeth dug a hole in my lip. So, what does one do when he's on stage in front of a crowd and he starts bleeding all over himself? That was the question I was asking myself, over and over again as I faced Shannon at the drums whose concerned eyes told me that this wasn't good.
"Is it bad?" I asked Shannon, while I watched blood drip on to the top of my guitar.
"Uh, yeah" he said, keeping the beat.
Still not facing the crowd, I felt the gaping hole in my lip with my tongue. Not good. The guys kept playing, the crowd not sure what was going on. Then, a solution came in the form of a rag left on stage by an earlier act. I picked up the rag, blotted the wound, faced the crowd and laughingly explained that I had an unwanted hole in my face. I wanted to go on, but did they want to watch a man with a bloody hole in his face sing? The overwhelming answer, yes.
Thanks to a suggestion from an audience member, I wrapped the rag around my face like a turn-of-the-century bank robber and the show went on. Much to my surprise, the bloody, gaping lip was a big hit. In fact, I think the highlight of the night for the audience was watching me get injured. I just hope I don't have to top it at the next show.
With nothing but love (and a fat lip),
Adam
That is a saying, right?
Sunday night, I put that saying to the test; albeit accidentally. We played a great show which included audience bubble-blowing, a human water cannon, the Macarena, new songs, and a vote to determine our next cover song. It was one of those nights that just felt good. We were in the pocket. I was in a good mood. The soundman had the mix just right. The stars were aligned perfectly. And then, in the snap of a finger (or rather, the splitting of a lip), the night's magic took a royal turn.
I got hit in the face by Matt's bass, and my mouth was suddenly bleeding all over the place. Uh oh.
I had been running around the stage (sometimes it's the only exercise I get) and Matt was facing away from me. I jumped, Matt turned, my mouth collided with his bass and BAM!, my teeth dug a hole in my lip. So, what does one do when he's on stage in front of a crowd and he starts bleeding all over himself? That was the question I was asking myself, over and over again as I faced Shannon at the drums whose concerned eyes told me that this wasn't good.
"Is it bad?" I asked Shannon, while I watched blood drip on to the top of my guitar.
"Uh, yeah" he said, keeping the beat.
Still not facing the crowd, I felt the gaping hole in my lip with my tongue. Not good. The guys kept playing, the crowd not sure what was going on. Then, a solution came in the form of a rag left on stage by an earlier act. I picked up the rag, blotted the wound, faced the crowd and laughingly explained that I had an unwanted hole in my face. I wanted to go on, but did they want to watch a man with a bloody hole in his face sing? The overwhelming answer, yes.
Thanks to a suggestion from an audience member, I wrapped the rag around my face like a turn-of-the-century bank robber and the show went on. Much to my surprise, the bloody, gaping lip was a big hit. In fact, I think the highlight of the night for the audience was watching me get injured. I just hope I don't have to top it at the next show.
With nothing but love (and a fat lip),
Adam
That hurts - April 11, 2008
My friend just sent me a link to one of Nashville's most popular entertainment newspapers. Much to my surprise, there I was on the screen, starring in a video that a friend had made for his cable access show. "Oh no!" I thought. "How did they find that?"
For those of you who are familiar with Ryan Van Duzer's show, "Out There," you know that Ryan has an amazing way of taking humor and presenting it in a way that only someone with his level of charisma could (for those who aren't familiar with Ryan's show, then go to youtube.com/duzaster). Sadly, taken out of context, this video looked like I had shot it and posted it myself. It looked like I had made and posted a video titled, "Adam Trapani: Singer/Songwriter, Sex Machine."
Oh God.
And then the comments started:
"What makes him an *ssh*le? The fact that he bills himself as 'Adam Trapani:Singer, Songwriter, Sex Machine' and 'Rockstar Adam Trapani.' Or maybe the way he says 'calypso.'"
"I guess it's really "indie" to be "ironic" and call yourself a "rockstar" even though you're just another waiter from the Mid-West with dreams of being the next Richard Marx"
I just have to laugh. Who knew it was so dangerous for a friend to use a camera on you?
I feel for you Paris.
Adam
For those of you who are familiar with Ryan Van Duzer's show, "Out There," you know that Ryan has an amazing way of taking humor and presenting it in a way that only someone with his level of charisma could (for those who aren't familiar with Ryan's show, then go to youtube.com/duzaster). Sadly, taken out of context, this video looked like I had shot it and posted it myself. It looked like I had made and posted a video titled, "Adam Trapani: Singer/Songwriter, Sex Machine."
Oh God.
And then the comments started:
"What makes him an *ssh*le? The fact that he bills himself as 'Adam Trapani:Singer, Songwriter, Sex Machine' and 'Rockstar Adam Trapani.' Or maybe the way he says 'calypso.'"
"I guess it's really "indie" to be "ironic" and call yourself a "rockstar" even though you're just another waiter from the Mid-West with dreams of being the next Richard Marx"
I just have to laugh. Who knew it was so dangerous for a friend to use a camera on you?
I feel for you Paris.
Adam
Why "I GIVE HUGS" - March 17, 2008
While sitting in the waiting room at the hospice where my father was being cared for, I imagined a retro-looking yellow t-shirt with the words "I GIVE HUGS" written on the front. Maybe that’s what I needed at the time. A hug. To give one. To receive one.
A couple weeks later I found myself dyeing a white undershirt yellow on the kitchen stove and ironing letters on to the front. It’s been one of my favorite t-shirts over the last 5 years, and I often wear it while performing.
Now I want the world to give hugs! They’re much needed right now.
I’ve gone against the advice of fashion experts. I’ve ignored rock n roll fashion trends. I’ve smiled at people who tell me that no one will want to wear a lemon yellow shirt that says "I GIVE HUGS" on it. I smile because I think people will.
A portion of the proceeds from the shirts will be donated to Hospice Foundation of America.
As always, the shirts are made here in America, without the use of sweatshop labor.
Go find someone who needs it and give them a hug.
Adam
A couple weeks later I found myself dyeing a white undershirt yellow on the kitchen stove and ironing letters on to the front. It’s been one of my favorite t-shirts over the last 5 years, and I often wear it while performing.
Now I want the world to give hugs! They’re much needed right now.
I’ve gone against the advice of fashion experts. I’ve ignored rock n roll fashion trends. I’ve smiled at people who tell me that no one will want to wear a lemon yellow shirt that says "I GIVE HUGS" on it. I smile because I think people will.
A portion of the proceeds from the shirts will be donated to Hospice Foundation of America.
As always, the shirts are made here in America, without the use of sweatshop labor.
Go find someone who needs it and give them a hug.
Adam
Me? A male model? - February 6, 2008
There I was, minding my own business when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Adam, this is Shawn Kuck, the incredibly talented, way too-cool-for-school photographer"
"Yes, I've seen your stuff. I dig it!"
"Well, I need your help"
"My help?"
"Yes, your help"
"Well then, how can I help you?"
"I've got an idea for a shot..."
"OK..."
"There's a rock star, holding his guitar, surrounded by beautiful girls who are pawing at him."
"Pawing?"
"Pawing."
"That's the shot?"
"That's the shot."
"How can I help?"
"The model who was going to be the rock star got sick. I need you to be the rock star."
"You need me to be the rock star? Will the girls be pawing at me?"
"Yes sir."
"I think I can help you Shawn."
And thus, my modeling career began.
Yikes.
"Hello?"
"Adam, this is Shawn Kuck, the incredibly talented, way too-cool-for-school photographer"
"Yes, I've seen your stuff. I dig it!"
"Well, I need your help"
"My help?"
"Yes, your help"
"Well then, how can I help you?"
"I've got an idea for a shot..."
"OK..."
"There's a rock star, holding his guitar, surrounded by beautiful girls who are pawing at him."
"Pawing?"
"Pawing."
"That's the shot?"
"That's the shot."
"How can I help?"
"The model who was going to be the rock star got sick. I need you to be the rock star."
"You need me to be the rock star? Will the girls be pawing at me?"
"Yes sir."
"I think I can help you Shawn."
And thus, my modeling career began.
Yikes.
Check out KuckPhotography.com to see more of Shawn's incredible talent.
Thank you, thank you... - February 3, 2008
Thank you everybody for making the Rutledge show such a success! We had a great time, and we can't wait to do it again.
We'll keep you posted.
We'll keep you posted.
First show with band-next week! - January 23, 2008
A little excited? A little scared?
Yeah, a little bit of both. Our first show as a band is next Tuesday here in Nashville (click on "shows" for details). We've been working really hard for a long time to put together something good, and I think we've done it. It's been great for me to be challenged by playing with musicians who, frankly, are better than me. Ryan, Cayte, and Shannon are a musical force to be reckoned with. They're incredibly encouraging, and they are unrelenting in their patience with me. We have a strong chemistry as a band, and I hope it shows on stage.
Nervous? Me?
A little bit. It's been 4 years since I last performed with a band, and I've grown accustomed to doing it alone. When I'm on stage and I make a mistake (which yes, happens all the time), I can slide right over it and keep on going without a hick-up. Forgot a verse? Who cares? Skip it! Played the wrong chord? I'm the only one playing any chord, so no one will know. What happens now if I make a mistake? I don't know! Luckily I can't get fired from my own band, so I can find some safety in knowing that.
Rehearsal sounds good. My gut feels good. My heart feels great.
For those of you in the Nashville area, I hope you come and see a show that you've been wanting, and expecting, for a long time. For those of you elsewhere, be on the lookout for something good heading your way.
I'm a lucky man.
May the new year bring something new and fresh to all of you.
Adam
Yeah, a little bit of both. Our first show as a band is next Tuesday here in Nashville (click on "shows" for details). We've been working really hard for a long time to put together something good, and I think we've done it. It's been great for me to be challenged by playing with musicians who, frankly, are better than me. Ryan, Cayte, and Shannon are a musical force to be reckoned with. They're incredibly encouraging, and they are unrelenting in their patience with me. We have a strong chemistry as a band, and I hope it shows on stage.
Nervous? Me?
A little bit. It's been 4 years since I last performed with a band, and I've grown accustomed to doing it alone. When I'm on stage and I make a mistake (which yes, happens all the time), I can slide right over it and keep on going without a hick-up. Forgot a verse? Who cares? Skip it! Played the wrong chord? I'm the only one playing any chord, so no one will know. What happens now if I make a mistake? I don't know! Luckily I can't get fired from my own band, so I can find some safety in knowing that.
Rehearsal sounds good. My gut feels good. My heart feels great.
For those of you in the Nashville area, I hope you come and see a show that you've been wanting, and expecting, for a long time. For those of you elsewhere, be on the lookout for something good heading your way.
I'm a lucky man.
May the new year bring something new and fresh to all of you.
Adam
New album? Single? T-shirts? - December 11, 2007
I record, I record, and I record some more. Then I listen back to it and I want to scrap the whole thing. I really want to put out something that's spectacular, but what I'm envisioning just isn't cutting through the recordings yet. It's a little scary right now, because the last album I released came out three years ago (in the music world, that's eternity). The longer I wait, the better the album has to be, so let's hope it's worth it!
In early January, I'm going to be releasing a remastered version of "Hit." I'm hoping for some college radio play, and maybe some mainstream play as well. I'll be following it up with a single of a new song that I hope to be a sure-fire attention grabber. It's a lot different than the songs that I'm putting on the album, so it will be printed only as a single.
For those of you who have been wondering where I got the "I GIVE HUGS" t-shirt, wonder no more! I'm getting some printed, and they should be ready in January. Soon we'll all be giving hugs.
Happy, happy holidays from Nashville.
Adam
In early January, I'm going to be releasing a remastered version of "Hit." I'm hoping for some college radio play, and maybe some mainstream play as well. I'll be following it up with a single of a new song that I hope to be a sure-fire attention grabber. It's a lot different than the songs that I'm putting on the album, so it will be printed only as a single.
For those of you who have been wondering where I got the "I GIVE HUGS" t-shirt, wonder no more! I'm getting some printed, and they should be ready in January. Soon we'll all be giving hugs.
Happy, happy holidays from Nashville.
Adam
Goodbye, Friend. - December 4, 2007
I met Courtney a little over 6 years ago while visiting a friend in Santa Barbara. My friend Guy knew Courtney from college, and he introduced us. During my two week stay, Courtney and I spent a lot of time together. She drove me around the many different parts of Santa Barbara, showing me the beauty of the city. She kept laughing at how much I loved the giant fig trees. On the same trip, I celebrated my 22nd birthday. Courtney surprised me by dressing me up in a sombrero, a sun dress, and big sunglasses, then taking me bowling.
A few months later I moved to Santa Barbara. Courtney and I had talked frequently on the phone after our initial meeting, and our friendship continued to grow stronger after I moved there. Courtney was incredibly supportive of my dreams of becoming a professional musician. She was one of the only people in the crowd at my first ever gig. A frequent gift-giver, she gave me a poster of my favorite band, The Who. On it she wrote "good luck with your band." I still have it on my wall today.
Six months later, and shortly before I returned to Boulder to tend to my father's illness, our relationship grew romantic. We would spend hours driving the coastline, exploring the incredible estate neighborhoods of Santa Barbara, and walking on the beaches. It was a very short lived romance, but a very fun one. Courtney was the kind of person who made life fun by reminding you that simple things can be the most enjoyable.
After I returned to Boulder, I would receive small presents in the mail from Courtney. Little knick-knacks like candy and toys. It was her way of showing that she was thinking about us. When my father passed away, Courtney was one of the first people I called. Over the next few months, we would talk frequently on the phone. We would talk for hours, often about nothing at all, but never without things to say. That summer she visited me in Boulder. We had a great weekend together riding bikes, drinking margaritas, and of course, driving around the city and the mountains, doing what we always did best, exploring.
Over the next few years we spoke less and less. I moved to Nashville, and although we talked about her visiting here, it never panned out. It started to become a rare surprise to receive an email or a phone call from her. The last time we spoke was a little over a year ago.
Of course, now I regret not having kept closer contact with her over the last few years. I should have told her what a wonderful person she was, and how many great memories I have of her.
She will be dearly missed.
Tell your friends how much they mean to you. Someday you may not get the chance to.
Rest well, Courtney.
Adam
A few months later I moved to Santa Barbara. Courtney and I had talked frequently on the phone after our initial meeting, and our friendship continued to grow stronger after I moved there. Courtney was incredibly supportive of my dreams of becoming a professional musician. She was one of the only people in the crowd at my first ever gig. A frequent gift-giver, she gave me a poster of my favorite band, The Who. On it she wrote "good luck with your band." I still have it on my wall today.
Six months later, and shortly before I returned to Boulder to tend to my father's illness, our relationship grew romantic. We would spend hours driving the coastline, exploring the incredible estate neighborhoods of Santa Barbara, and walking on the beaches. It was a very short lived romance, but a very fun one. Courtney was the kind of person who made life fun by reminding you that simple things can be the most enjoyable.
After I returned to Boulder, I would receive small presents in the mail from Courtney. Little knick-knacks like candy and toys. It was her way of showing that she was thinking about us. When my father passed away, Courtney was one of the first people I called. Over the next few months, we would talk frequently on the phone. We would talk for hours, often about nothing at all, but never without things to say. That summer she visited me in Boulder. We had a great weekend together riding bikes, drinking margaritas, and of course, driving around the city and the mountains, doing what we always did best, exploring.
Over the next few years we spoke less and less. I moved to Nashville, and although we talked about her visiting here, it never panned out. It started to become a rare surprise to receive an email or a phone call from her. The last time we spoke was a little over a year ago.
Of course, now I regret not having kept closer contact with her over the last few years. I should have told her what a wonderful person she was, and how many great memories I have of her.
She will be dearly missed.
Tell your friends how much they mean to you. Someday you may not get the chance to.
Rest well, Courtney.
Adam
Naked in the Rain - November 22, 2007
Last night a downpour came from out of nowhere. It was the kind of fleeting rain that comes and dumps hard and soaks everything and then leaves quickly. Lightning was striking close by and I was waiting for the power to go out at any second. The music on my stereo was drowned out by the rain, which was beating my poor roof into a bloody pulp. I decided it was time to do something I had never done before.
It was time to stand naked in the rain!
It was pitch black outside, and although my house sits pretty close to my neighbors' houses, I figured I could sneak out, get soaked, and return without being seen. My neighbors think I'm crazy enough as it is, and having them see me staring at the sky, waiting for the next great flood in my birthday suit probably wouldn't help to convince them otherwise.
So off came my clothes and outside I went! But I had forgotten one thing: there is a motion detecting light outside the door. Sensing my movement, the light kicked on. There I was, naked in the rain, with a spotlight displaying my strange endeavor. I very calmly walked out of the light to the safe haven of my dark back yard, where I stood soaking for about 30 seconds before making the pilgrimage back through the light and into the house. Just before I entered the door, I snuck a peak at the house across the street and saw its resident, an elderly gentleman, looking out his storm door at me. I was busted. Out of pure habit, I raised my arm and waved hello to him, and he returned the gesture.
I'm not sure if his old eyes could tell that I was nude, but if they could, maybe he'll be inspired to try taking a "natural bath" next time it rains. Maybe it will become a new neighborhood tradition.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Adam
It was time to stand naked in the rain!
It was pitch black outside, and although my house sits pretty close to my neighbors' houses, I figured I could sneak out, get soaked, and return without being seen. My neighbors think I'm crazy enough as it is, and having them see me staring at the sky, waiting for the next great flood in my birthday suit probably wouldn't help to convince them otherwise.
So off came my clothes and outside I went! But I had forgotten one thing: there is a motion detecting light outside the door. Sensing my movement, the light kicked on. There I was, naked in the rain, with a spotlight displaying my strange endeavor. I very calmly walked out of the light to the safe haven of my dark back yard, where I stood soaking for about 30 seconds before making the pilgrimage back through the light and into the house. Just before I entered the door, I snuck a peak at the house across the street and saw its resident, an elderly gentleman, looking out his storm door at me. I was busted. Out of pure habit, I raised my arm and waved hello to him, and he returned the gesture.
I'm not sure if his old eyes could tell that I was nude, but if they could, maybe he'll be inspired to try taking a "natural bath" next time it rains. Maybe it will become a new neighborhood tradition.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Adam
Band! Album news, etc. - October 15, 2007
I've got a band now! We should start playing out here in Nashville within a couple months. The energy is there and the guys are great so I'm very, very excited.
Q. What will the shows be like?
A. Half set with the band, half set solo. Some songs are still best left raw.
Q. What about this new album? Isn't it solo acoustic stuff?
A. It is. I still feel the need to record music that's as stripped down as possible. There's something very therapeutic about songs that aren't covered by layers of sound. I am however, going to be releasing a single that will be recorded with the band.
Be well,
Adam
Q. What will the shows be like?
A. Half set with the band, half set solo. Some songs are still best left raw.
Q. What about this new album? Isn't it solo acoustic stuff?
A. It is. I still feel the need to record music that's as stripped down as possible. There's something very therapeutic about songs that aren't covered by layers of sound. I am however, going to be releasing a single that will be recorded with the band.
Be well,
Adam
Fall Tour Canceled - October 1, 2007
Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I'm going to have to cancel (postpone?) the fall tour.
I hate that too!
Hopefully early next year I'll be able to get out there on the road. I'm ready for an adventure, and I don't want to wait much longer!
Take care,
Adam
I hate that too!
Hopefully early next year I'll be able to get out there on the road. I'm ready for an adventure, and I don't want to wait much longer!
Take care,
Adam
Fall Tour - August 27, 2007
Adam will be touring the West Coast this fall with Melissa Faith Cartoun. The tour will be Adam's first on the West Coast, and he looks forward to winning over the crowds there! If you know anyone in California, Oregon, or Washington, be sure to send them to the shows!
Adam needs a band! - July 17, 2007
Adam is looking for a backing band to perform with in Nashville and on regional tours.
Players needed include: drummer, bassist, and guitarist. Adam is also open to keyboards and less mainstream instuments.
Good attitude is huge! A sense of humor is a bonus.
Check out Adam's music at www.adamtrapani.com or www.myspace.com/adamtrapani.
Contact Adam at adam@adamtrapani.com
Thank you!
Players needed include: drummer, bassist, and guitarist. Adam is also open to keyboards and less mainstream instuments.
Good attitude is huge! A sense of humor is a bonus.
Check out Adam's music at www.adamtrapani.com or www.myspace.com/adamtrapani.
Contact Adam at adam@adamtrapani.com
Thank you!
Adam's song "Hit" in national radio contest finals!!! - July 12, 2007
Adam's song "Hit" was just chosen as a finalist in Clearchannel's national song contest "New!" You can help! Click on the link below to listen to Adam's song "Hit" to help it get national radio play. The more it gets listened to, the higher it goes in the ranks!
http://www.clearchannelmusic.com/cc-common/artist_submission/all.html?gen=2&srt=name
http://www.clearchannelmusic.com/cc-common/artist_submission/all.html?gen=2&srt=name
New Album!!! - June 4, 2007
Adam has begun recording his next release, tentatively titled "The High Changes of Cornucopia." The album will be released in the early fall and followed by a west coast tour.
Adam at The Bolder Boulder!!! - April 4, 2007
Adam will be performing at the 29th annual Bolder Boulder race on May 28th in his home town of Boulder, CO. The annual memorial day 10K race is run by more than 60,000 people in honor of American war veterans. Having run the race 16 times, Adam is excited to be a part of the diverse musical line-up featured at the event.
T-shirts available now! - March 10, 2007
Adam Trapani T-Shirts Are Now Available! For a limited time, receive a free sticker with t-shirt purchase. Click here to check 'em out!