Blog posts

• 

  Jul 04, 08:58 AM

  Shine a Light

  Being out of the country, some people wonder whether it's weird to celebrate the 4th of July anywhere but home. This is yet another summer traveling abroad. Last year I saw a foreign nation pay tribute to our explosiveness by setting off fireworks in narrow streets, over abstract rooftops. Or maybe it was coincidence rather. I caught the glimpse from a nifty hotel perspective. I admired the sparkle, but I heard no boom. Not even a fizzle.
  
  My Dad & StepMom are here this week touring the UK with us. This is the first July 4th out of the country for either of them. In fact, my Dad hasn't been outside of the US in almost 40 years. He said something brilliant to me yesterday with a well of water resting on his lower lids.
  
  "I didn't know what day it was this morning," he grinned. "It's been years since that's happened me… and you know what? I don't care. I'm on vacation."
  
  I hope July 4th goes beyond political independence and takes over individual lives. We are all free to be. We are free to forget. We are free to dream. We are free to scream. So celebrate something in your own way today, this week, and the rest of the year. Light that dormant fuse in your ass and sparkle once in a while. Help me hear the boom from way out here.
• 

  Jul 01, 05:36 PM

  90 Minutes from Nothingsburg

  Miles from Here
  Inches from There
  90 minutes from Nothingsburg
  
  Tour season has come in on the lion's back, tip toeing thru the sleeping lambs. Playing catch-up with the many months I squandered taking it easy. The front yard is wherever the wheels are resting. Most often I'm walking the dogs or doing yoga at a service station off the M4 or the Autobahn, tasting salty sea tears on a Channel, North Sea, or Baltic ferry, or I'm down in the basement trying to wake up the instrument within.
  
  The accent of the everyday local no longer phases the senses. We are all Japanese, German, Bohemian, and Glaswegian. Some of us just have a little more wine in the system where others may have Waffle House.
  Some days you wake up to find your home parked quaintly by a pond well stocked with ducks and Dutch roses and your neighbor is a Crow named Sheryl and the Town Mayer is a very gracious and gentle John.
  
  And In the backyard, 50,000 of your closest friends.
  
  I always pinch myself when I read my name on a poster, especially when the other names in close proximity are iconic. Am I a contest winner or just a cartoon character drawn into a cheesy remake of an awesome original? (My Before Picture)
  
  Club scenes welcome each new day with smoke machines. The days' headlines are the previous bands' backstage graffiti. We basement dwellers suit up like a sports team and ready ourselves with Yacht Funk, music of '77, a great year of our lord. And we unite like Ghostbusters armed with our immune systems for the new onslaught of slime oozing between rounds of applause.
  
  Time doesn't actually exist.
  
  I've been away from home for exactly 40 days. I use a strip of black and white photo-booth pictures of you and I as a bookmark thru various reads. You sleep with Pulitzer and I sleep alone.
  
  Thinning.
  
  But NOT tired - (Please Stop Asking)
  Never assume
  Anything.
  
  The road is long and seamless. Even over water. And though the tar is paved in blood of the last animals on earth, it is also a path paved in love & light, where every direction is just a roundabout way home.
  
  I am closer to God than ever.
  I am closer to you than ever.
  
  -mraz n'manchester
  
  (photos by Michael Leroy Bram)
• 

  Jun 18, 12:18 PM

  Travel Tip 4: Bring Your REVISED Sense of Humor

  Edit: Due to a considerable number of complaints to the Human Resources department at Atlantic Records, I have chosen to revise the dark humor from last week's post. I am sorry for my poor taste. Please see editor's addition at end.
  
  I offer this lesson today in memoriam to my present lost luggage. As seen in pie graphs of past, I am dwelling in that rather large 5 percentile of a waiting period. Nonetheless, I have faith everything will return to me as the contents within the cases are coated in my very own blood, rich with uniqueness, and folded in the utmost eloquent and respectful manner. Should any vagrant fall upon my items he will bend at the waist, bow to my sophisticated packing style, and beg every museum to display his discovery. But I will be there. For I am perched by The Louvre's entrance and I am hungry for my sweatshirt on this unfortunately chilly day halfway through June.
  
  Contents for a world tour:
  
  -A short stack of pants; varying in thickness, length and texture
  
  -8 of the exact same shirt; varying in Color (this takes all question out of what to wear)
  
  -Running shoes; for rainy days, skating, or fleeing to Mexico when the crack-up comes
  
  -Dietary Supplements; for digestion, brain power, and a place for psychedelics
  
  -Toiletry Bag; for toothpaste, shaving, q-tip, condom, and general stash
  
  -Polaroid Film; the best format for shooting xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx in seedy hotels
  
  -Juggling Equipment; for dexterity, boredom, & xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
  
  -2 hats; for a quick disguise
  
  -1 large tapestry; for hiding unsightly hotel TVs or ones face when finally arrested
  
  
  Please Insert:
  -Polaroid Film; the best format for shooting senior-citizen-pornography
  -Juggling Equipment; for dexterity, boredom, & confusing the elderly
  
  Optional: socks/underwear, gluten-free snacks, cables/adapters for gadgetry, or Golden Shower Girl, Rue McClananhan.
  
  
  For your consolation:
  
  Some people speak rather eloquently.
  Sum peep talk real slow like.
  Some motherfuckers speak Jive.
  And some people jabber in rhyme.
  
  Some like humor that's dark.
  Where some folk only love clowns
  When some people are laughing at South Park,
  Others might draw back and frown
  
  To each his own we always say
  Some change the channel. Some look away
  And some challenge the comic and make him halt
  Rather than take the words with a grain of salt
  
  To jest of a crime means it's so untrue
  And that's funny to me if not to you
  So I'll post a warning next time on this journal
  When I write something meant for a men's room urinal.
  
  -mraz
  Dublin 6/2008
• 

  Jun 11, 11:41 AM

  American as Applie Pie Graphs

  I'm often asked how I find time for correspondence and blogging. Most people assume since I don't have any gigs listed this week or next, that I'm just sitting around playing with myself and killing time. That isn't entirely false. I'm still on tour, but as a salesman and spokesperson for "We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things."
  
  This is called a promotional tour. I'll appear in as many as 10 countries over the course of 4 weeks, sometimes hitting 3 to 4 cities a day. If the myth is true about how big your carbon footprint is… then I may have the biggest dick in all the land.
  
  I've worked up some pie charts to show how time is spent on a promotional tour versus other kinds of schedules.
  
  1: The current Promo Tour:
  Note how much time is spent talking about music compared to how much time is spent actually playing music. The 5% of time waiting for luggage is purposefully larger due to the uncertainty of this wait period. Sometimes the luggage never comes.
  
  2: On an Actual Tour:
  This is a well-balanced & more proportional program and is the norm for most bands on the run. The magnitude of masturbation increases in an effort to avoid temptation, while food prep doesn't even make the chart, thanks to catering services and a personal chef.
  
  3: The huh?
  Sometimes, a promo tour is combined with an advertised tour. This usually happens right before a record comes out. It is chock full of double-bookings and oh-so repetitive "no-repeat workdays." So the math never adds up. In fact, the frequency of sleeping goes into a negative range that can't be measured on any graph.
  
  4. The Yeah.
  When at home, the mind, body, and spirited Gods of Music are appeased. I'll spend as much time on a computer as I would opening a can of cat food. And it's fair to mention the thought of masturbating is naught, thanks to the much-appreciated "homecoming" courtesy of a mermaid girlfriend. It is obvious which is my favorite kind of pie.
  
  I hope you found this data insightful. Whether you're a dreamer, an artist, or a label about to offer a 360 deal, it never hurts to have an insider's perspective.
• 

  Jun 09, 10:43 AM

  The People Have Spoken

  It seems the readers really like it when I say Fuck or make nasty against someone. Even my mother chimed in blaming the heat back east.
  
  I'd like to make myself clear that the "Cold-Hearted Fuck You Captain's Hat Salute" was not exclusively for one typist, but for everyone to enjoy! I simply used a quote from one user as an example to start the fire. To me, it should make no difference whether or not I use my celebrity to promote voting or to shout from the rooftops how I (and you) should contribute to Barack Obama's unique online campaign. I'm just an eager citizen and I trust you are too in some fashion.
  
  The stolen user quote wasn't affiliated with any party, but was a good idea to post to create this dialog among us, which is exactly what we're supposed to be doing prior to an election. It was not my intention to bring shame to that person, their family, or their co-workers at Friday's.
  
  Everyone on these social networking sites has access to the world and can say just the same as I and have as heavy or heavier an impact. I hope rather than use the Internet as a tool to condemn each other from the privacy of our soiled underwear, that we all understand how we're free to use this medium for the better, for change, or for triumphant evolution. The way R. Kelly does.
  
  Speaking of R. Kelly: statistics probably reveal the majority of players on this topic aren't yet even old enough to vote. Therefore, I Digress.
  
  And for those of you who identify too strongly with words, it's time to turn off the computer and go outside and lick the first living thing you see. (Tree frogs are recommended.)
  
  Get connected on a whole new level.
  
  Please.
  
  P.S. ...Fuck.
• 

  Jun 09, 10:43 AM

  America, The Home Game

  Stolen from a Myspace Comment:
  
  "Boo for you being a celebrity plugging your polilitical opinions. I like you cause you can sing (and play instruments and write songs and dance and be awesome etc etc), not cause you can vote. Don't turn all typical celebrity and ruin your fanbase that you've had since the beginning not just since you have progressively gotten more famous."
  
  It is comments like these that make me sad, first because of all the spelling errors. And second, because some people assume songwriters shouldn't have an opinion. But in my opinion, songwriting IS opinion. I don't sing songs about politics, but I AM an American citizen and I look forward to casting my one vote, just like you. I don't ask people to support MY choice. I just hope people HAVE a choice and exercise it in November.
  
  How would you feel if I waltzed into TGIFriday's where you worked and suggested you not wear all that flair and promotion? I wish you would just serve the shitty franchised food and not have an opinion. Save the political commentary for Ruby Tuesdays. In here it's Friday.
  
  Fuck you. I'm voting. It's my right.
  
  Go Democracy.
  GO'Bama.
• 

  Jun 02, 03:49 PM

  Travel Tip 3: Bring a Big Fucking Knife

  
  Time zone hopping and the hyper robotic routine of touring require energy levels to be consistent and my schedule isn't one that affords me any sick days. So I travel with a chopping knife and a cutting board. Rather than rely on room service and overpriced restaurant versions of vegetarian cuisine, I shop at local grocers and eat my own delicious homemade meals. The knife, a classic single layer stainless steel, in addition to raising concerns with airport security, is also good for shocking housekeeping staff. My DO NOT DISTURB sign is in constant use during any hotel stay, yet all maids seem to have this incredible urge to assist and clean. Thus, opening the door in bikini briefs gripping a 10-inch blade makes my point. I can make my own bed.
  
  I also bring along a Vita-Mix blender, a powerhouse of a tool. I start each day with a crazy ass Superfood Smoothie that most people refer to as, the Green Sludge. It contains a lot of what you see in this mini-bar.
  
  Super Greens, Hemp Protein, Goji Juice, Coconut Water, Flax Seed Oil, My own homemade cashew milk, Raw Cacao, Bee pollen, sometimes a banana, a little crushed ice, toad knuckles, agave nectar, Stevia, and/or Natural Vaginal Juices to sweeten to your liking.
  
  All this stuff is checked at the airport in what I like to call my "Movable Feast," a handy box that puts the kit in kitchen. I update the staples when I need to, about every two weeks. But the salad fixins are refreshed daily.
  
  If it seems costly it's not. I think about the cost my body pays for eating processed food and immediately I'm happy about the investment of time finding these natural alternatives. ALTERNATIVES? How did we let nature's supply take a back seat and become so hard to reach?
  
  You are what you eat. And since April 1st, this has been an experiment worthy of the effort. My trusty sidekick, Toca Rivera, has also been eating this way, relying only on raw and natural foods. We started this diet when Toca discovered he was Diabetic. But now, thanks to eating REAL food, his numbers are closer to normal and soon his blood tests will not reveal any sign of Diabetes.
  
  Here is a clip from the geniuses who guided us:
  
  I will likely keep this up for a long time. I don't crave any other foods anymore. Anything processed just doesn't seem real. I may as well eat cardboard if it has the same nutritional value. And I'll keep getting creative with food. That's the best part. I'm starting to see myself in the meals I make. And I have no trouble spending hours in the grocery store reading the labels and talking with other customers. Plus, hot girls fresh from yoga hang out in natural food stores. And I suspect they're horny. More and more people are getting excited about health and we're all tired of being offered cheap replicas of food. We want change and we believe we CAN have it.
  
  Yes we can.
• 

  May 19, 09:44 AM

  Still waiting to kiss a 7th grader

  Last night we appeared on a Live Swedish TV show. In addition to being a part of a cheerfully colored musical variety show, this career highlight came with many bonus features.
  
  1) The opportunity to turn to band-mates during the closing clap-a-long dance number and exclaim, "We're on a Swedish TV show!"
  
  2) The wonderful experience of flirting with the show's gorgeous host after she describes 'Butterfly' on the air to be "a steamy fuck me song."
  
  3) The show takes place at Grona Lund, a 125-year-old theme park with breathless views of Stockholm, especially from the top of coasters and free fall machines designed to scare the shit out of you.
  
  Apparently Walt Disney himself visited a sister-park in Scandinavia and took home the idea to create Disneyland. Grona Lund, which probably stands for Groovy Land, is beautifully restored with lush gardens on a choice location by the sea, while being in the heart of the archipelago city. There are some rides and themes that would certainly not be in operation in our over protective and politically correct United States. Some features in the Grona Lund Clown House (Fun House) likely mar or maim the Swedes a few times a week. Maybe it keeps the peace or has something to do with their keen population control.
  
  One of my first jobs was working at a theme park. I auditioned to be in any of the musical variety shows at King's Dominion in Doswell, Virginia. The audition went so well I was hired to sell photos on the exits of roller coasters. This was a new technology back then, cutting edge stuff. All the photos were printed on receipt paper with every passing train. It was automatic, frantic, wasteful, and fun. It was my job to not let pictures of boobies and middle fingers hit the display rack, which was the clipboard I would hold up revealing tiny black and white images of white-knuckled screamers. I'm always amazed at what people do when they know there's a camera. Some kids even managed to turn all the way around and moon me. By summer's end I had an awesome collection of coaster enthusiasts' mug shots and soft porn.
  
  I grew up in that theme park. My parents took me to see the Beach Boys, Kenny Loggins, The Jets, The Commodores, the 4 Tops & the Temptations, and more I'm sure. I broke coaster fears, set coaster records, and practiced shouting cuss words for the first time in public places thanks to many summer jaunts to the park.
  
  My favorite memory is when I went with seventh grader, Katy Fiore to the park. We were "going together." I don't know how she ended up as the object of my affection, but I gave her a gold chain that I found in a rest area men's room on a family road trip regardless.
  
  Our day in the park was sure to be a memorable one as we were set to ride The Haunted River, a pitch black nightmarish boat cruise seemingly designed for anxious youth. This was THE ride to get your kissing on. I had yet to put my tongue in another person's mouth so I was eager to get in the long line and be demonstrative.
  
  Sadly, while waiting in line, Katy pulled me aside and gave me my gold chain back. She broke up with me IN LINE to the Haunted River! I was crushed. Especially since we still rode the awful ride and listened to our friends' slobber all over each other. Trust me. Life can only get better from there.
  
  Apparently, while I attended my sister's ballet recital the night before, Katy got to liking another fella in my absence at a school dance. That was the last time I would ever see my sister's silly ballet class in action. Somebody had to take the blame for my failure.
  
  Not to mention. I'm still waiting to get my tongue in a girl's mouth.
• 

  May 14, 12:00 PM

  They're Yours

  The songs; Take them. Share them. Own them. Make love to them. Cook to them. Eat with them. Buckle them up in the car and blast them during your busy city commute. Sleep with them on in the background. Send them to your dreams' ideal setting. Maybe steal a little of me for those moments. I love traveling. With the songs' new life I'll imagine myself being spread around like a good flu.
  
  I've said it in a million interviews already. The songs don't belong to me. They are bigger than I'll ever be and they will certainly live a lot longer than I will. That's why this album is less about me and more life in general. It's an album about awesome times, celebrated by real people, sexy people, and waking up to smell their sweet sweat still lingering in the air.
  
  Someone once passed me a stack of books and said enjoy. And when you are done, pass them on for they do not belong to you. They belong to the world. And that is what I am doing with these songs. They are of the world and for the world.
  
  Even the personal songs about my family and factual love stories, I will not take credit for writing them. It is my duty to simply sit and listen to a frequency that anyone can hear; A station perhaps from space, commercial free, broadcast in the clouds. I don't ask. I sing-a-long to that station nonetheless, and happen to record the phrases and melodies from time to time, and still they are not my own. Maybe I am a receiver, but just an instrument in that sense. My body is just hardware. Some other wonderful force is playing the song.
  
  Whatever "being" is to the human. Whatever air is to the bird, or what water is to the fish. Whatever force decides to make our hearts beat and food digest. That mad divine scientist is who is responsible for these songs. They are a gift for all of us.
  
  And so I am grateful and so I project and we share the sweetness.
  
  I'm glad you are listening too. Enjoy the new album.
  
  
• 

  May 12, 02:17 PM

  Getting to, Jetting to

  I often feel that chronology reports don't make good blogs. I'd rather choose a topic or one set of events and enjoy that solitary moment. But then again, I don't mind flipping thru photographs of a long vacation and reliving each day. So let's play catch up.
  
  After Atlanta, Toca & I got to Jet over to Denver to play a show with Landon Pigg, Graham Colton & Gavin Degraw. (If you haven't checked out Landon Pigg, I highly recommend it.) From there we were to spring back to Champagne Illinois for a show at Eastern Illinois University. But along the way, some flights got cancelled and we were separated from our luggage. The only way to make the show that night was to hire a private jet, which from Denver to Illinois took only 90 minutes and landed us just 6 miles from the gig in a random corn field. Awesome. Especially considering commercial flying had routed us thru Chicago or Dallas and would've taken up to 8 hours of travel time. (For the curious, this is only the 2nd time I've flown private aviation in my career. The jet at the opening of the I'm Yours video is edit mastery, we actually shot that video on a normal commercial inter-island flight.)
  The guy on the left is Phil Collins, but I didn't get clearance to show his face in this.
  
  From Illinois, we bussed up north to see our friends in Canada and played the two best shows on the run. Thanks to everyone in Toronto and Montreal for making such great blurry memories for us. We held our closing ceremony up there as well and said goodbye to the MakePeace Brothers, Bushwalla, & Justin Kredible.
  This picture is missing all 7 of the monitor engineers we went thru in a month. That's a lot btw.
  
  If only there were a huge zip line to get us from Boston to Maui. What a view that would be! Instead we flew, again. But doing two shows in Hawaii might be the perfect way to end any tour. Especially if you put three days off after that to explore the islands, study the tides, and let yourself sink in the sand.
  
  
  Honolulu also gave us the chance to play our largest headlining show to date. More than 6000 people came out to a night at the Waikiki Shell. Aloha!
  Mahalo Nui!
  
  Sadly, I spent my only 4 days at home suffering from allergies and sinus pressure. I bet when you are sick, it is time that ultimately heals the body. All the supplements and medicines you take are just there to satisfy your need to fix yourself. Regardless, I love the Neti-Pot.
  Tea Anyone?
  
  Hmmm. What would keep this zig-zag pattern going? Go to London of course, yesterday I got lost skating thru Kensington Gardens & Hyde Park on the perfect Sunday. I'll be here a few days, long enough to find an adequate wake/sleep cycle, and then we'll break from that and head to Stockholm, Sweden before spinning around and visiting San Diego again, for a day.
  
  In case you haven't realized. This glamorous life really only requires a knack for sitting. How else would I find so much time to read and write blogs? Being a traveling musician, or Rock Star as it was once referred, is just knowing how to get in the van, how to guide yourself thru airport security, how to relax on a plane, how to get in another van, how to deal with lost luggage three times in three months, and how to accept that time zones don't apply to you, that life is just a series of naps.