James Peter Carroll

Sometimes I’m a musician. I’m not sure if growing up in southern California had something to with it or not.  From my start as a 7 year old pianist, to a little rap star at age 11, to my singer songwriting of today, musicianship has been a growing presence in my life.  Depending on how you look at it, my father being stationed at San Diego’s Navy base might have been my main inspiration. Starting at the age of 16, I have since written a widely varied catalog of original acoustic material.  More recently, after years of one sub-par job after another, I’ve had to ask whether performing my songs should be my vocation.  Now that I am actively seeking live gigs, I’ve come to realize how fortunate I am to live in Southern California; The west coast is ground zero for the entertainment business.  I am local to a lot of venues, bars, coffeeshops that will happily host a live music act, just so long as you ask politely.  I guess it’s by luck that I have the opportunity to play for people, pretty regularly, songs that weren’t designed for a wide audience.   

Since the entertainment business is wrapped up in pipe dreams and icons, I have to repeatedly remind myself that worldwide, there are literally millions of musicians looking to distinguish themselves. That the real joy is in the moment of letting loose.  So I have, for the last few months, continued to expel my songs to an audience usually composed of strangers.   

I know I’m a subversive, I accept it.  Sometimes, I enjoy it.  It’s in this bubbling dissatisfaction that I find what I believe most passionately.  Beneath the exterior of polished vocals and a business suit there lies power.  In fact, the polite world of coffee shop stars and top 40 plasticine dreams breeds subcultural people, who like me, infuse their art with contrarian socio-political and psychological underpinnings.