On my first visit to Washington state, we landed in Seattle and spent the night exploring the city. We ended up finding a soul-funk-rock fusion band called Jelly Bread. The music made us feel at ease. It made us forget the pressures of life. It made us melt into the chairs and jet through the clouds and tumble through the desert. It made us feel at home.
A few months later, we left the swamp of Ohio on a disgustingly humid day. No really, it was like walking through a swimming pool full of rhinocerus diarrhea. I cried more during those last few days in Ohio than I had in the past few decades. Not because of the weather, but because of the great friends we left behind. Playing the last show with my band Analog Revolution was an emotional rollercoaster. I was leaving a wonderful little music scene. But I knew that music like Jelly Bread would help to ease the transition.
More than a year later, Jelly Bread came to the Emerald of Siam in Richland. They came at a time when I was a bit depressed with how this new part of the journey was shaping up. I was becoming a grumpy fuck. I just wasn’t able to find my groove here in the desert. Music (and maybe some whiskey) set my brain at ease. I realized it had taken a few years for me to adapt to my surroundings when I had lived in Ohio. I realized that good things will come, if we act with patience.
Since that time, I have found people and places and even begun to create new spaces and artwork. I’ve finally found my groove here in the west, and it is infectuous. Recently, I was visiting Moscow, ID when I stumbled into a little bar called John’s Alley. Lo and Behold, Jelly Bread was on the stage. That made for a fine coincidence. Now this band has helped me be comfortable in both my decision to come to the west, and stay in the west. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get a chance to make some music of my own.
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