Thirty East

Most albums are bullshit.

Pop-fluff, drunk-motivation slowly stealing the intrinsic value of music. The experience of listening.

Thirty East is made to drive, it’s a roadtrip of youth and young manhood from a “modern” (nothing is modern) poet.

How to Listen 

1. Buy Thirty East on your preferred device digitally. Listen once, in a quiet, dark room. Enjoy as wanted afterwards.

2. Purchase a physical CD of Thirty East. Why? Who needs CDs, man? You have to drive Thirty East with the windows down with the east Texas pine in the wind. You shortcut the experience otherwise. Take your next trip via Thirty East.

Want More? 

Here’s the essay series on the behinds the scenes of making Thirty East. Enjoy at your leisure. (Thirty East in the background really sets the mood. So does candles.)

Driving Down Thirty: Part 1, Driving Down Thirty: Part 2

Here’s a snippet:

Thirty East is the drive home.

I was in state of panic. Thirty East was under my tires as I rolled faster, despite the employing of speed limit signs. “65” they said. My time was my own.

“What should the record be called?” I hastily asked a friend on the phone.

“Something real, something like home. Something that means something to you. Like, ‘Strawyberry Fields’ did for Lennon.” He answered back in scattered digital tones.

Thirty East.