Whenever and wherever we play, I always give the same introduction right after our first song.

“Hey folks, thanks for joining us. This is Chris, that's Michael, that's John, there's Greg, that’s Holly, I’m Milo, we’re Featherburn and we’re here for two reasons. We want to have as much fun and make as much meaning with you tonight as possible. So whatever it means to you, whatever it is you need to do to join forces with us in that as fully as you can – if you want to laugh, laugh. If you want to shout, shout. If you want to dance, dance – whatever it is, please, dare to do it. We’ve got one, wild, precious life. I say let’s fire it up!."

Maybe it sounds far-fetched to you, but we’re kind of on a mission. We’re not out just to play songs. We want to grow and deepen what it means to be alive, on and off stage.

It may be easy to see how the performing is fun – the being on stage, hearing people sing along, basking (or squinting, depending on your perspective) in some lights and applause. But the performance is the culmination of many hours of hard labor: writing, meeting, rehearsing, failing, learning, rewriting, practicing, and succeeding.

The performance may be rewarding, but it's sorry wages when weighed against the work. So why put so much time and effort into it?

Why Make Music?

I don’t know if you believe in fate, in destiny, in some kind of higher power that guides us all toward good things. I’m suspicious of anyone who can say with absolute certainty, but I do think there’s a force out there that weighs in and points us toward the greatest illumination, the fullest, most dynamic realization of ourselves - if we’re listening for it. For my part, I’ve tried out a few career paths over the years and haven’t been able to land quite right in much outside the arena of creating music and theater. The best way to sum up my work outside of the arts is that it sags. I daydream, I procrastinate, I self-sabotage. I turn in mediocre reports, slowly. While over and over, I find my attention and energy drawn toward devising performance. It always seems to come back to the last line of Mary Oliver’s poem “The Summer Day”, which you might recognize from my band introduction above. There’s no other piece of writing that speaks to so poignantly to my most honest self. It’s like she’s pointing directly at me, directly at my heart, asking:

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

That’s the reason Featherburn exists. Each of the band’s collaborators has their own point of entry, but none of us would be putting in the time and energy if the work didn’t speak directly to our desire to make meaning and have fun with people like you through music. 

It’s what we choose for our one wild and precious life!