Here is the link for tix and if you’re not in the area but know someone who is

pass the word—

https://www.cadenzafreeport.com/events/an-evening-with-peter-gallway-2

This is the last show before I head to Japan through most of October:

Peter Gallway & Yoshiyuki Sahashi / Full Circle Tour 2026

10/10 Kanazawa “Mokkiriya”

10/11 Sabae “Tabby’s Guitar”

10/13 Kyoto “Takutaku”

10/14 Nagoya “TOKUZO”

10/17 Oita “Brick Block”

10/18 Fukuoka “Gate Seven”

10/20 Hiroshima “Juke”

10/21 Osaka “Janis”

10/22 Travel Day

10/23 Takamatsu “Grand Father”

10/24 Matsuyama “Furaibo”

10/28 Blues Alley Tokyo (two shows)

10/29 Blues Alley Tokyo (two shows)

See you along the way . . .

Some years ago, I began writing songs as parts of projects rather than as ongoing individual works. My wife, Annie Gallup, writes songs all the time (and a concept might develop), as does my friend Larry John McNally. For me, ideas began to form toward a particular landscape—an R&B feel with a focus on modern groove, an open and ambient Americana, a jazz-inflected collection on coming of age, anthemic songs about freedom. I ask myself, what is the movie?

It might not be obviously stated but to me great albums can, and should, have a feel, a voice; evoke something in the whole. Elvis Costello does it. Neil Young does. Consider Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska as a great example, or the Beatles’ St. Pepper, or Marvin Gaye’s what going on.

I think about that, both as an artist and very much as a producer. What type of instrumentation, arrangements, and playing style does this collection want? It is easy to start down a path and realize you’ve got it wrong. What you are doing is too much, or too understated, or just the wrong clothes for the occasion.

One of my favorite albums for evoking landscape is Emmylou Harris’ Wrecking Ball, produced by Daniel Lanois, who is a man, producer, musician of vision. But then some albums don’t want Daniel’s vision or style, or mine for that matter. As a producer, I believe the artist comes first, that it is not my record, and the goal is, never get in the way of the artist or the song.

Finding the way, within infinite choice, however, is the beauty, courage, and grace of the process.

What Is the Poet?

Are these words music narrative revelation

a snapshot an impression a replication?

Color sepia or black and white what are these cafes

these quiet rooms with or without a view

these pens notebooks inks and smears

What is the poet?

Painter photographer blacksmith alchemist

do the words heal soothe clarify wound confess

what is the poet but another quietly observant

shy myopic witness at a corner table

a soft-lit quiet room a desk cluttered or spare

a loved one sleeping upstairs or in the next room

Love and family memory longing long gone

quietly haunting each line and the next blank page.

This summer brings continued positive response to “Hardtail Strat”, with many book launch/concert events since publication in January, including an upcoming house concert/reading/signing in Raleigh, NC, under the wing of my longtime friend and label owner, Mitch Cantor, of Gadfly Records.

“EN Live In Tokyo” with the full, Japanese all-star band, will be released on July 27th in Japan and an extensive, 12-city duo tour with Sahashi will run through most of October, culminating in two nights of concerts in Tokyo. As a special offering for this tour, “EN Live at RAG in Kyoto”, the intimate trio performance from last year, will be released as well. Pre-production for EN Volume Two, which will be recorded with the full band in Tokyo next year, will begin while I am in Japan in October.

Meanwhile, I have completed the new PG album, “Sepia”, a collaboration with keyboardist from the Real Band, Michael McInnis, with release projected for the fall. And there is more… I am very excited to share production and mixing on the new Larry John McNally album, “Mustang”, is nearly complete with release planning underway.

I hope this finds everyone well, and if you have a venue idea (you think might be receptive), or would like to host a concert event celebrating “Hardtail Strat”, please email me at petergallway@gmail.com. Oh, and lastly, if you haven’t signed my email list for additional updates, please go to www.petergallway@gmail.com. Thank you in advance, this takes a village.

Sally B and Me

Sally B and me
Kept each other company
Cold winter days
Slip away
In make-believe
Cambridge came
The sky was colder
I touched her shoulder

And when this lifetime is over
Keep my spirit from hunger

Sally B and me
Eternity seemed much too much a dream
I'm the dreamer
As a friend becomes a lover
And a man became a brother
When we were all afraid of never

Sally B and me
We drove the land to sit beside the sea
I am dreaming
Sally, she is sleeping
The world is hardly breathing

Sally B and me
We kept each other company
Cold winter days
Slip away

Well, at the urging of my good friend, singer-songwriter Janet Feld, I just completed the application to showcase for next year’s, Your Roots Are Showing Conference in Belfast, Ireland.

Toward that end I recorded the following video in my studio, right here on the coast of Maine. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Believe in the small good things . . .

Today is my birthday,

and along with a deep blue

Patagonia fleece jacket,

Annie presented me

with a beautiful card

which contained a small

glassine envelope.

Enclosed was a review from the Village Voice

of a show that had to be from 1973,

after the release of the “Peter Gallway” album.

Surprises—a snipped of a song,

an angle of the light, the sound

of a particular voice—

will bring memories

and the feelings that go with them.

Sometimes they say, yes, everything

is just all right—

you can remember that.

Praise for Hardtail Strat

“As much as our lives and loves have crossed, I had no idea what was going on in the in-between spaces! Glad we’re both here!”

—John Sebastian, American musician, founder of the Lovin’ Spoonful

“Peter Gallway’s book, Hardtail Strat, is one of the best books by a rock musician I’ve ever read. Although it includes the relevant career highlights and has a fair share of famous names in it, the book is much deeper and far more poetic than most such memoirs. It comes from the inside out.”

—Danny Goldberg, author of Serving the Servant: Remembering Kurt Cobain

“From 1947 to 2002, named for the Fender Stratocasters that saved and changed his life and written like the verses in his lyrics, Gallway’s memoir takes us from a heroin-high car crash to becoming a licensed therapist. Ending with a beginning and informed with the soul of a poet, here are a songwriter’s journeys through fathers and fears, first loves, first songs, first bands, the music, the musicians, the writers, the films, the fuckups, and the friendships that shaped the man and the art.”

—Mike Davies, Fatea Magazine

“In Hardtail Strat, Gallway takes you to Greenwich Village in the sixties, where he was an observer and participant in the

explosion of folk and rock that spread all over the country. I first saw him at the Night Owl Cafe, the launch point for so many careers in music, and he has continued to make music ever since.”

—Steven DePaul, former touring production manager for Joni Mitchell and Bruce Springsteen, author of the Rock & Roll Confidential mystery series

“I met Peter over half a century ago in Greenwich Village in NYC. I was trying to produce records, and he had a group called the Strangers. . . . It was surprising to me to hear a group of young white boys playing Motown- and R&B-style music. Peter has seen and done a lot. . . .

He’s made his way into the light, through many long, dark days. He’s written a fine book.”

—Erik Jacobsen, record producer for the Lovin’ Spoonful, Tim Hardin, and Chris Isaak

“Born into the climate of the recent psychological biographies of Dylan and Springsteen and the live theatrical presentation of Michael Jackson comes Peter Gallway’s new memoir, Hardtail Strat. That his renown is overshadowed by the other three in no way diminishes its power.

His excursion from a deeply troubled childhood through decades marked by cycles of addiction and recovery and sexual confusion is held together narratively by his love of music and literature, metaphorically by his relationship to the guitars in his life (hence the title), and stylistically by short, powerful bursts of lyrical prose, appearing on the pagealmost as non-rhyming song lyrics.

All aspects of this book are striking. Despite the

familiar-sounding possibility of the narrative terrain, this book is strikingly original. Through all the author’s plunges into darkness, brief courageous partings of the curtain into the light, and subsequent relapses, we root passionately for the salvation that he ultimately deserves. We are drawn into the intimate corners of his heart and soul, owing to the courage, honesty, and relentless lyrical excellence of the writing.”

—Hal Ackerman, professor emeritus of screenwriting, UCLA

“Hardtail Strat is a riveting, eloquently conveyed memoir by my gifted friend Peter Gallway. In it he shares:

‘I have always been a poet— impression, short form,
the space between the lines, this is my country.’

And what a ‘country’ it is: hard boiled, hand wrought, and ultimately heartwarming. If you are like me, a fan of the rare art form of memoir or autobiography, Hardtail Strat is a must-read.”

—Rex Fowler, singer-songwriter, Aztec Two-Step

“Bob Dylan wrote about the ‘Tambourine Man’—Peter Gallway heard the tambourine . . . and followed him. The late sixties were a jingle-jangle utopia that promised teenagers more than it could possibly deliver. Its music and perfume surrounded Greenwich Village, where we grew up. Peter’s book is a diary of tersely captured memories of a boy deeply under its spell. If you never were, but are curious what it would be like to hear the jingle, follow Peter. You will get a hint of the worth and anguish of loving something irresistibly around the corner—and sometimes lethal. I’m very grateful that Peter’s memories are

respectfully honest to his life, just as Peter was.”
—Eric Eisner, former president of the Geffen Film Company, founder of the Young Eisner Scholars

“Ever the cinematic storyteller, singer-songwriter Peter Gallway paints his life in watercolor, whispered secrets, hard truths, and tender realizations. You ride shotgun, the wind blowing through the open window, carrying songs, eulogies, snatches of poetry, and stories from his childhood, teen, and adult years. Careening down the highway, the radio blasting, you take the kaleidoscopic journey as Peter spins the tale and you absorb his lifetime of art and evolution, mercy and grace.”

—Penny Arcade, writer, performance artist, rock and roll theater maker

“Hardtail Strat can be read as a brilliant, poetic guide in the art of survival. Pieces of his intense and extraordinary life are put together as the lyrics of an inspiring, very personal hymn. Harshly sincere, this songwriter, musician, and exceptional storyteller makes a poignant inventory of insights and life- changing mementos that can quickly resonate with any reader’s hunger for truth and meaning.

‘Of course, there is more. More than I can tell, more than I remember, more than I know.’

Open your heart and enjoy this song of life, an unforgettable journey to [Gallway’s] sacred spaces!”

—Heloisa Prieto, Brazilian bestselling author of

The Musician

“Hardtail Strat is breathless, fast, and funky, full of verve, rhythm, and blues. Keep the top down and the music turned up—this is a remarkable ride!

We are in the hands of a writer so skilled we believe we are watching his stories, not reading them. Peter Gallway returns to his youth with childlike wonder at what will happen next, from high school to rock bands to heroin. We so want, so need, this young boy to survive, to thrive.

Hardtail Strat finds unvarnished truth in chaos, and Peter Gallway can handle the truth. In the end, he has written an affirmation of life, set to lyrical and head-banging tales. One simple life lesson among many: Check the oil. It’s cheaper than blowing up the engine.

Hardtail Strat delivers all the stuff that makes perfect music, kaleidoscopic memories, and a damn good book. Read five pages. I’m not lying.”

—Ron DeChristoforo, award-winning author of

This Way Out

“Throughout my years in ‘the business,’ I’d heard on and off about Peter Gallway and his musical exploits. Having never met the man, I admired them from a distance.

This all changed in 2023, when I was booked on a short Japanese tour with him. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he impressed me greatly with his original material, his playing, and his easy stage manner, prompting me to listen to his body of work when I got home. During that trip, we had more than a few talks about who we knew in common and where this crazy journey had taken us. I am now, needless to say, a fan and can call Peter a good friend. Long may he career on and long may our friendship continue. If you’re reading this, then you know

about him and have his book, and good on yer.”
—Ian Matthews, English musician, Fairport Convention,

Matthew’s Southern Comfort, Plainsong

“Peter Gallway came of age playing rock ‘n’ roll, blues, and folk in the bars and music studios of New York, starting in the formative 1960s. His journey, going back and forth to LA through the nineties, plots his growth as a songwriter, as he crossed paths with the great names of the times—John Sebastian, Joni Mitchell, Pete Townsend, and the list goes on. But there was also a dark side to the music, laced with heroin, cocaine, and alcohol—a long slide that might have ended badly but didn’t.

Gallway’s nonlinear recounting is evocative of an era, full of stories both personal and iconographic. Particularly effective is when he punctuates a tale with one of his songs, retelling the memory in lyric, after having informed those of us who love his music where that particular song came from.

This is a captivating autobio for anyone wanting to remember those years or vicariously peek at the roller coaster Gallway rode from low-rent Greenwich Village gigs to partying with the rich and famous—and in the end, to a life of quiet content.”

—James Kahn, author of My Jedi Memoir: A Double Life

https://www.koehlerbooks.com/book/hardtail-strat-guitars-heroin-songs-and-stories/

Jeep

I went to Elizabeth Irwin High School

on Charlton Street

in what would now be called Soho.

My close friends were Kenny and Bobby,

Eric a year younger,

his brother John and John’s friend Jason,

a year older.

John and his classmate Ben

were deep into bebop jazz and weed,

and Jason was just a wild boy, free

or so it felt to me, which felt good.

I wanted some of that.

Jason lived in a brownstone,

in the row on MacDougal Street

between Bleecker and Houston,

that were each painted

deep rich colors, and opened

in the back to an interior courtyard

that ran the length of the block.

Dylan lived in one for a time.

Jason’s mother was not happy.

She was divorced, and though

I could not grasp the weight of it,

she was grieving the death

of her lover Robert Capa,

the war photographer.

And she drank.

Jason’s father was John Hammond,

the famous Columbia Records

A&R man who discovered

the best of the best

and was the one who suggested

Benny Goodman hire Charlie Christian,

a black man in a white band,

which was unheard of.

Jason’s brother John Paul,

who was known as Jeep,

at least during that time,

had dropped out of college

and was living at home on MacDougal Street.

I would go there with Jason many days

after school let out a few blocks away.

We would smoke earthy smelling,

not very good weed,

and listen to Jeep practice,

and listen with him to recordings

of Sonny and Brownie, Big Bill Broonzy,

Robert Johnson, and Bo Diddley,

Jimmy Reed at Carnegie Hall,

and Koerner, Ray and Glover.

I would eventually become entranced

by the pulse and swing

of the electric guitar blues and R&B masters.

And Jeep would thump and groove,

his thumb and fingers fluid, flying,

harp around his neck with a deep tone,

and he’d howl and growl, and purr,

handsome as James Dean,

amazingly gentle and sweet.

Jeep did not get on well

with his famous father at Columbia Records.

He signed with Vanguard Records

when I was still deep in high school,

and his first album was criticized

for what some thought

as embracing a world and music not his own.

But I can testify to the depth of his reverence,

and how hard he worked, every day,

every time I came over, he was there

practicing.

Years later I marveled at how

he truly embodied the music he treasured,

as authentic as any who lived

to carry the torch.

He came to be respected

by everyone who knew his work and attracted

an eclectic cast of greats

to play in bands and make records with him.

I remember seeing Jimi Hendrix

for the first time

in Jeep’s band at the Café Au Go Go.

Jimi who was the funkiest guitar player

we had ever seen or heard,

before he landed in London,

before Purple Haze.

That was Jeep.

I saw him many times at many

venues over the years.

I performed opening shows for him,

always enjoying catching up,

and will forever remember him,

and Jason, and those days

at Elizabeth Irwin,

heading over to MacDougal Street

when everything was in front of us.

Today the band Geese,

more recent EI graduates,

are blowing up the music world,

their own story to tell one day.

But yesterday Jeep left this earth,

likely quietly, with dignity,

and his own kind of rhythm

and soul, right

to the end.

Thanks to all who are responding to the ads for Hardtail Strat. Very grateful for your response to the book right out of the gate. I need to give the big ask one more time--PLEASE GO TO AMAZON AND WRITE A REVIEW, EVEN IF IT IS A FEW WORDS BASED ON THIS EXCERPT:

Late One Night

One night after we had all
played our shows in the clubs,
we went over to Paul Harris’s loft
just south of Houston Street.

We’re in the open
ground-floor room of the loft.
Everyone is in a large circle,
jamming and singing songs together,
and Jim Morrison
and his girlfriend Pam,
a striking redhead with long bangs,
are there.

Morrison is quiet and moody,
but jumps in, and at his suggestion
we play “House of the Rising Sun,”
and he comes out of himself
and sings that song,
which has been sung by so many,
with as much commitment,
understanding, and reverence
as I have ever witnessed.

And Paul’s wife Suzy
will commit suicide,
and Felix Pappalardi’s wife Gayle
will shoot and kill him,
and Morrison will die
in that bathtub in Paris,
his girlfriend Pam soon after
on a couch in LA,
and sweet Paul’s days
as a busy keyboard sideman will fade,
and years later he will pass
quietly in Florida.

But that night, for a moment,
Morrison was church.

Thank you to Michael Devlin and Music Matters for his thoughtful review of our latest Hat Check Girl album—

https://www.mmreview.com/reviews/allreviews/29-gone.html

A collection of human stories in an increasingly human time.

I want to thank Cat Greenleaf for inviting me to her Soberness Podcast (www.soberness.com). It was wonderful to share the some of the story behind my memoir, Hardtail Strat—Guitars, Heroin, Songs, and Stories.

Hardtail Strat will be published next Friday, January 30th and will be available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other platforms.

I will share more about its publication soon.

Thank you for being part of this process.

Christmas Roses

I’ve known you now for years and years

Again and again our paths would cross

How small the circle of lovers and friends

And then we gathered by the river

You never know when the road will turn

You never know where the wind will lead

All I know is we were chosen

And I will grow for you Christmas roses

Your path had taken boundless circles

Wish I’d known you way back when

Trekking in for miles and miles

Wrapped in fur and cedar silence

You never know when the road will turn

You never know where the wind will lead

All I know is we were chosen

And I will grow for you Christmas roses

Your words are strong, so clear and true

No one chooses words like you

You paint with pen, stone, and silver

Then I knew there by the river

A door would open wide and sure

If I’d the courage to step inside

And so was blessed the faith and more

And set my fear aside

You never know when the road will turn

You never know where the wind will lead

All I know is we were chosen

And I will grow for you Christmas roses

Beautiful

I was on the street

The innocent thief

But I knew what beautiful was

How do you survive, you asked?

It’s when you got no other choice, I said

Then how do you know you’re alive?

When you remember to breathe

And you’re here with me

And we feel lucky and drive

Beautiful is the sun on your cheek

A beat-up guitar

A penny in the river

A Camaro on blocks

I was on the avenue

Thinking mad thoughts

But I knew what beautiful was

I’d follow my feet

If there was trouble down the block

Still, I knew what beautiful was

You said, if they’re going to find him

They will have to stop the rain

I said when he felt himself go down

He let himself sink into that warm dark dream

He didn’t survive, you said

I said, he didn’t believe he would

His girl said, we were just so young

And no, I can’t listen it’s too painful

And she cried into the camera

Beautiful is the end of the line

A vinyl scratch

A downtown train

The tattoo on the small of your back

I was on the boulevard

With stars in the sidewalk

A chisel in my hand

I knew what beautiful was

I knew what beautiful was

I knew what beautiful was

Beautiful

I was in the street

Doing crimes and feral dumb shit

But I knew what beautiful was

How do you survive, you asked

It’s when you’ve no other choice,

I said,

Then how do you know you’re alive?

When you remember to breathe

And you’re here with me

And we feel lucky and just drive

I was on the avenue

Thinking bad thoughts

But I knew what beautiful was

You said, if they’re going to find him

They will have to stop the rain

I said when he felt himself go down

He must have wondered where this will go

And let himself sink into the warm dark dreams

He didn’t survive, you said

I said he didn’t believe he would

His girl said we were just so young

And no, I can’t listen it’s too painful

And cried into the camera

I was on the boulevard

With stars in the sidewalk

A chisel in my hand

And I knew what beautiful was

Very excited that my memoir will be published by Koehler Books on January 30, 2026.

This idea has been taking shape for well over five years, through many iterations, the manuscript with at least a dozen major revisions, and now terrific support by the team at Koehler Books.

More information about pre-ordering coming soon.

From Koehler Books:

In Hardtail Strat: Guitars, Heroin, Songs, and Stories, Peter Gallway traces his coming of age in the electric pulse of Greenwich Village’s 1960s music revolution. From shooting rubber bands in Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe’s Sutton Place apartment to shooting heroin in the back rooms of New York, Gallway plunges into the intoxicating world of the Night Owl Café alongside the Lovin’ Spoonful and James Taylor, through the Troubadour, Mama Cass, the Manson family, and the record companies of LA’s Sunset Strip—until the road leads to Tokyo, and finally Maine, where a Fender “hardtail” Stratocaster guitar leads to an unlikely rebirth.
Written in the raw, lyrical rhythm of a songwriter who “thinks in stanzas,” Hardtail Strat is a story of music and madness, abuse and opportunity, loss and redemption—and the enduring power of song to set us free.

The leaves are red and yellow outside my window and I am reminded

of fall days in New York City, the leaves turning in central park,

living on W. 10th Street with Jon Lind and Richie Chiaro

in the days of the birth of the Fifth Avenue Band,

and somehow, I am missing Jonny on this day.

The following is from my memoir, Hardtail Strat—Guitars, Heroin, Songs, and Stories,

to be published by Koehler Books in January, 2026.

Jonny

I met him at rehearsal,

the beginnings

of the Fifth Avenue Band.

His father was charismatic.

Enigmatic. Something about

embezzling money,

way back,

and then Mexico,

and Jonny

flying to Switzerland

as a teenager,

being given coffee

at the bank,

as he accessed accounts

and moved the

money.

Strong, fiery, funny,

fast, fabulous,

that was Jonny.

Larger than life, always.

Competitive.

He’d kill you at whatever—

tennis, basketball, ping-pong—

and make you laugh

like hell.

His mother was complicated,

depressed, suicidal,

died too early, cancer.

These people

make us who

we are.

Jonny could sing.

And songwriting became

his business:

the craft his art,

the art his craft.

He loved melody,

and he loved

songwriters.

He wrote big songs,

three number ones.

And he loved women,

his wonderful children,

and people,

and food,

and Peckinpah,

and food,

and sports,

and he would be there

for you, always.

We lived on W 10th Street,

in Elaine May’s old

apartment,

with Richie Chiaro,

who worked with Cavallo.

I wrote “Decidedly Fun”

there in my room

in the back.

I would sneak out

whenever I could

to buy heroin,

then come home,

remorseful,

and would do it

all over again.

One time Jonny

smacked me in the face

and my glasses flew

across the room,

that’s how maddening

the whole thing was,

and how much

he cared.

I moved to LA first,

but he would follow,

as would Cavallo,

and Kenny Altman,

my best friend,

always.

Jonny and Cavallo

got closer,

and stayed close.

Bob took him under

his wing, as best

Bob knew how,

and Jonny made

a lot of money for Bob,

and for himself.

At Jonny’s funeral,

Bob said Jonny

had been his best

friend.

Cavallo was a father

to me,

though I wonder if

he knew it,

and I was eventually

banished, a prodigal son,

and despite repentance,

and redemption,

was never to return.

One night in New York,

Jonny came to me,

lost, at an end,

and asked for

my help,

and I was able, finally,

to give some of what

had been given

to me.

And his life changed.

And he never forgot.

Jonny’s world grew,

and he grew.

And he found love,

an unforgettable love,

that would take him

to the end.

He got sick.

He got sicker.

When I heard I felt

sick inside,

something in me

sank, it was

a heartsickness,

filled with the

random unfairness

of things.

But his spirit grew

along with the cancer.

I know he fought,

because that was what

he knew to do,

and he knew what was

happening to him,

and still,

he would take the call,

and joke, and ask

how I was doing.

Then he was done.

And now,

there is a hole

in the world.

When Annie Gallup and I bought a house

on the central coast of Maine in 2018,

our plan was to devote more time to creative projects,

and to try and generate a greater part of our income

through creative pursuits.

I had it in my mind to put a band together.

The first person I called was Mark Wainer,

a close friend and world-class guitarist,

who had been in my band from about 1978 to 1983.

Neither of us can remember exactly when

he moved home to Brunswick from Hartford

to play with us,

but in 2018 he became my partner

and it was he who suggested

the next person I call

should be Andrea Re, an amazing vocalist,

a fine percussionist / drummer,

the most generous of souls,

and a true sister to me.

We rehearsed once a week for a year

and began playing concerts.

And then Covid hit.

After what felt an interminable time

we regrouped, which included expansion,

and Joe Wainer, Mark’s brother,

an unstoppable presence,

came on board as drummer.

Michael McInnis, the most sophisticated

among us technically joined on keyboards,

and finally, Mark Abraham, who we met

doing sound for us at Cadenza in Freeport,

came on as our bassist.

We have had many wonderful performances

since—Hill Arts, All Roads Festival,

Bull Moose/LL Bean Summer Series,

too many to name.

And life is in session.

A month ago, Mark and Joe informed me,

that for individual health reasons

they would need to withdraw

from live performance.

I had returned from an extensive tour

of Japan and we had one more concert

on the books.

It will be our Farewell Tour: One Night Only—

this Saturday at a favorite listening/concert

club, Cadenza in Freeport.

It seems I am an artist

that thrives on reinvention,

where change is opportunity,

and I continue on.

I have written a new album for The Real Band,

which will now be the next PG album,

primarily in co-production with Michael McInnis,

as well as, EN—Volume Two,

for my Japanese band in partnership

with guitarist extraordinaire Sahashi,

to be recorded in Tokyo.

My memoir Hardtail Strat:

Guitars, Heroin, Songs, and Stories,

will be published in January 2026

on Koehler Books.

And producing Larry John McNally,

with a few other irons in the fire.

There is always much to do.

Bands are unique gatherings—

from dictatorships, to true democracies,

to incestuous family systems.

There have been many bands for me,

beginning in high school with the Strangers,

and there will be more.

As Joe Wainer said to me yesterday,

this band is here to support your art,

and the dedication and commitment,

along with honest discourse,

sometimes very direct,

has been invaluable to me.

I cherish other people’s ideas

and feedback, it is part of the process

I truly value, and will miss this particular

coming together of souls, spirits, taste,

and talent.

Thank you.

Something happened yesterday

I was walking after dinner with Annie and Zoe

Our new used three-year-old pup

And as we walked past a well-kept house

On a very nice block one over from us

We heard a voice call from the side porch

I was a half-step past when it registered

Pulled back and saw a man stretched out sprawled

One shoe off his head in the corner

On his back by the side door

I called out are you all right and he said no

Annie and Zoe waited as I walked

The few steps up and could see blood

On the walls and the flooring by his head

And his hand covered in blood

Where he must have reached back

He said he couldn’t move

I asked if anyone was in the house he said yes

I knocked loudly on the door

Noticed a well-appointed kitchen through the glass

And knocked again a long series

But no one came the door was locked

A phone rang a song I don’t remember

Which he reached for but couldn’t get hold of

I grabbed it and swiped to answer

We went back and forth

A man said who are you and I said

I just found someone on the porch hit his head

He said I call every day to check on him

He’s ninety-one

Have you called 911 I said I just found him

He said call 911 no matter what he says

I said can you call 911 he said I will

I said OK I’ll stay with him

I sat next to him on the little step

In front of the side door

I told him I didn’t want to move him

Help was coming

It looked like he cut his head but I didn’t see

Blood flow I should put pressure on

And was worried about moving his neck

Asked him if he thought he broke anything

He said no he didn’t think so

At one point I said can you breathe OK

And watched how he was breathing

Annie and Zoe stayed on the sidewalk

Not to crowd him

His pants were down nearly below his privates

And I asked if I could pull them up a little

But it was too hard to get underneath him

And didn’t want to make things worse

In a little bit the ambulance came with lights on

No siren running

A guy got out and I said this is what I know

There’s a man on the porch

Found him as we walked by

Looks like he’s been bleeding from his head

I didn’t want to move him

The lead guy went up on the porch

Pulling on rubber gloves said how are you doing?

His partner followed a few steps behind

And I said this is his phone handing it over

I backed off could see they didn’t need me around

I said do you need me to the second guy

And he shook his head no

We headed back to our house a block over

Annie noticed from the upstairs window

Another vehicle showed up from the fire department

And it took quite a while

For them to leave

Later Annie said you probably saved his life

Back from Japan and the dust has settled

only a little.

I am writing songs for

a new album with The Real Band

and am simultaneously creating ideas for

the next Japanese album with Sahashi,

EN—Volume Two.

I met Sahash in the late 1980’s

when he put together a backing band

for my concert tour and a recorded performance

at Tokyo FM .

We have been more than friends ever since.

The Japanese tour in the second half of June

was more than I can adequately describe.

The level of commitment by everyone involved,

in building an experience to be proud of,

the music that brought us together,

and the amazing openness and support

of audiences that filled RAG in Kyoto,

and Billboard Live in Osaka, Yokohama,

and finally, two sold-out concerts in Tokyo.

Unforgettable. Indescribable really.

Thanks to Sahash, Gota, Ray, Dr. kyOn, Takuo,

and our very very special guests, Taeko and Takako,

and to Kaz, Jun, Fumio and all at Vivid Sound,

and everyone along the way who were

so gracious and generous,

including all at Billboard Live—

kitchen staff, hosts and hostesses, crew—

who would line the hall and applaud

as we left the venue.

Where else would this happen?

And to Yoshimine, who in reaching out to me,

started the whole thing rolling.

Thank you.