Everything That Led To The Grammys
Pt. 1 - Jimmy Kimmel Live
I’ve had a complicated interpretation of what the Grammys meant in my life for a while now. If there was ever a time where we might have had a chance to be a bigger part of the contemporary conversation, it felt like it had already passed. And to be clear, that was something I was more or less proud of - a career maintained making the albums (9 so far!) we want for a loving and committed fanbase without having to entertain any concerns about relevance. In a business where instability is a constant, this felt like the closest thing to a solid existence.
It goes without saying, but we have never been nominated for a Grammy. But I was truly at peace with it. I was able to be thrilled for friends when they got their nominations (and sometimes even winning!) without letting in any thoughts about what kind of implications our exclusion might have for our band. A very narcissistic impulse to have to fend off, I admit. I probably struggled a bit in the early days if I’m being honest with myself, but I had long since put that kind of thinking to rest. I was somehow able to maintain the seemingly contradictory thought that for the artists in the Grammy conversation, it must have been a thrill and an honor, and for those of us who were not, it didn’t necessarily have to mean anything. So, as you can imagine, what took place in these last two weeks has been surreal.
I’ll try to tell the whole story of how it all came together to the best of my recollection.
Griffin and I have always been proud ambassadors of Los Angeles and even Altadena more specifically. And on top of that, Griffin’s firstborn son was due 6 weeks from the day of the fire. So I think this confluence of circumstances placed us in this position of being some kind of voice for the neighborhood. Griffin and his wife Kit were even asked to do interviews on several news outlets. In the midst of all this, only a few days after the fire, my wife and I relocated our family down to Palm Desert to get out of the smoke and try to regroup. Within 3 days of getting there, Dawes was asked to come play Jimmy Kimmel. It was going to be Jimmy’s first show back and it was obviously an honor to be seen as the right band for that moment, but with everything we were dealing with, my initial impulse was that it was going to be impossible. We were three hours away, a huge part of my kids’ school had burned down, and I hadn’t had time to really sit with my emotions and process anything. I almost didn’t even mention it to my wife. But when I did, she’s the one that insisted that I go. She said the kids would be fine and it would likely be a healing experience for me. (Thanks babe)
Everything was moving really fast. Between the time we were asked and the actual filming was only 2 days (For those doing the math - the neighborhood burned down the night of the 7th and the morning of the 8th and the taping was the 13th). As I was driving back into LA on the 10 freeway on my way to the El Capitan Theatre I found myself calling friend after friend. Some who were dealing with some version of the same reality we were experiencing. Some who had lived through different disasters like this who might be able to give me perspective. Just anyone with whom a connection might feel comforting, if only for a moment. I was surprised to hear myself talk for so long. It wasn’t like I made a choice to start calling people. It just started happening. And while my reality wasn’t changed too much in that moment, I could feel the conversations bringing me back to life. I guess it’s an obvious truth, but I was experiencing it in a very direct way - when we open ourselves up to those around us, when we let our experiences be shared, we end up feeling less alone and survival feels so much more possible.
Once we got to Kimmel, we got right into a soundcheck. Griffin and I had never played Time Spent In LA as a ballad and we had never played it as a duo. We weren’t exactly sure what we were going to do. We hadn’t planned anything. I started playing a fingerpicking pattern and then Griff fell into a halftime feel. Once I figured out the guitar figure in the chorus it felt complete. It only took 4 or 5 passes to make it work. Thinking back, I guess it’s pretty wild that we walked into a national TV spot so underprepared. But with our entire worlds having been so recently and extremely upended, I just don’t think we had the bandwidth to be too concerned with anything else. I like to think how casual we were feeling and how last minute the arrangement came together contributed to how alive and emotional the performance ended up feeling.
After soundcheck we had about 3 hours until the live taping. It wasn’t enough time to really go anywhere so we just spent the time backstage talking about what we were all dealing with. Memories, reactions, emotions. One moment really sticks out for me. Our engineer for the day was Chris Sorem (Tito, who we usually work with was out on a Bright Eyes run). We’ve crossed paths with him several times through the years on different projects. He’s great at what he does and it was nice to see a familiar face in that moment. He also happens to work regularly with our fairly new friend and fellow musician - John C. Reilly. John had lost his house of 20 years. He and I had texted in the initial aftermath and he seemed relatively positive, all things considered. I asked Chris if he had seen him since the fire, which he had. I asked Chris if he seemed ok. He said that John’s exact words were, “Life is for living.” I felt myself tearing up before I could even fully take it in. It hit me hard for some reason and it was immediate. It made me think that powerful truths or inspiring outlooks (or some combination of the two) can sometimes resonate so powerfully that it invokes an emotional reaction from your body even before your head has caught up.
One more special moment that happened before the performance was seeing our friend Jim Pitt. Jim is the music booker for Kimmel and he’s been so good to us through the years. Along with several appearances on Kimmel under all sorts of circumstances (anyone remember I Washed My Ass With Menthol Soap Again?) he was also the booker for Conan back in the day and had us on several times over there as well. Jim is even still deeply involved with any of Conan’s musical endeavors and was instrumental in getting us involved for Conan’s Newport performance. So long story short, we love Jim dearly and have a lot of fond memories that we share with him. Anyway, he came back to wish us luck before we played. After catching up and asking how we were doing with everything, he wanted to make clear that this invitation to play came from the purest intentions. He felt like this was an opportunity for us to heal and process a little bit and maybe help some others in the process. He lovingly said something like, “I just didn’t want you to think this was me trying to bring you on simply because everyone is talking about you right now.” I bring it up because I had no idea we were being talked about. At least not in circles like his. I knew that friends were reaching out and I knew Griffin was doing some interviews but I didn’t think too much beyond that. What Jim said was my first indicator that Griffin and I had become, at least to some degree, some of the faces of the moment insofar as it related to the Altadena musical community.
When it was time for the performance, we were brought out in front of a live audience during the commercial break. The energy coming off the crowd was pretty heavy, which makes total sense but still caught me by surprise. Behind us they put up screens that were going to show images of the devastation. They had let us know that during soundcheck but were still working on it at the time. Griffin and I were still pretty raw about it all so I had to be very mindful about the performance. I knew if I caught any of the video out of the corner of my eye, it was very possible that I would completely fall apart. Not sure if you can tell from watching how desperately we were trying to hold it together, but it felt like quite the high wire act in the moment.
The performance felt good (and you can still watch it on our IG account) and after a quick round of thank you’s to Jim, Chris and some of the other producers, I was back in the car within 15 minutes tops. I wanted to get back to Mandy and the kids as fast as I could. I thought I might even make the end of the bedtime routine but, alas, I missed it.
Over the next day or so, that video seemed to make the rounds. More people reached out than usual after a late night play and I saw that it became our biggest post on social media that we’d ever had. I was grateful to be sure, but I had already climbed back into dealing with the fire stuff so I didn’t have much time to think about it. I had no idea what that performance might open us up to…
Next post - FireAID
Below for the paid subscribers is a solo acoustic recording of this ballad version of Time Spent in Los Angeles. It sure hits different now. I recorded it while hanging out in the living room with my daughter Lou. If you listen close, she makes an appearance.