I ran into an old friend at Starbucks yesterday. First we had a lot of catching to do, Then he told me that he had really been listening to my music lately and how he admired me immensely as a player, and asked me what my secret was for always playing at the top of my game? Internally I was laughing at the compliment.
I told him, "thank you so much for the compliment however, I never truly believe that I’m ever playing at the top of my game."
Let's step into a time machine, shall we? And travel 18 years into the past.
It's April 9, 2001. It's spring time in the Chicagoland area. It's a beautiful day, the sun is out, the temperature is pleasant, and my brother and I have tickets to a concert (Slaves on Dope) this evening. He's only 15 at the time, so he's still in high school, I wait around for the school day to end, then we'll jump in my Neon and hit the road, up to the Metro in Chicago, at the time THE place to be.