“Pay attention to your dreams” is something I’ve been saying to my daughters for most of their lives.  

My dreams have taken me all over the world, and I wonder what would’ve happened to me if I had shut off the dreams, and settled into the status quo of what might’ve been expected of me, had I not had pretty open-minded parents.  

It was clear from the beginning that I wasn’t exactly like my two older siblings, and I’ve chronicled about that in my books “God On The Rocks”, so I won’t get too deep in those weeds here.  Nonetheless, my folks knew that my gifts were unlikely to find fulfillment in a conventional job. 

If you’ve read the book, you know that my dear mother was disappointed that I didn’t “use my gifts for the Lawd” (New England accent for effect).  But she was wrong about that; every time I’ve played a note, written a word, or dabbed paint on canvas, I believe I’m acknowledging the Spirit’s place in my life, mysterious as that concept is. 

 My dream was to make music, to be a musical artist, a recording artist.  What I didn’t plan on was waiting many years to become a recording artist.  I didn’t plan on writing songs for popular artists and playing on their records or in their bands, but sometimes the Way Of Life is service.

And I must say, those years of writing and playing for other artists was, overall, a joy.

I had a lot to learn about life before I was in a place to control my music and create recordings.  Playing with Emmylou Harris for 17 years has certainly been helpful in my progress, and by “progress”, I mean the process of becoming a person.  

O course, I’ve learned a lot about playing music, but the most important thing is discovering what one has to contribute to a community.  In my case, it’s often been the support community of an artist.  Thankfully, being in Emmylou’s band for these many years has been a joy; she’s a great friend, a great person, and a great musician.  My job is to bring the best of myself to every concert, every flight, every trip.

As I’m crowdfunding two records (“Falcon” and “Super Session”), it occurs to me that most of the “Falcon” record hearkens lyrically to a time when my dream was just getting started, when I was building friendships that would, unbeknownst to me, pave the road to what I’m doing now.  The bands from my college days, when I was a drummer, and the friendships forged then are still vital.   And, of course, every subsequent setting since then has shaped me, sometimes joyfully, sometimes painfully.

I made a record not long after I arrived in Nashville in the early 1980s, and it didn’t make a star out of me- and I’m so grateful that it didn’t, because I had yet to remember who I was before commerce came to call.  That first record was me trying to be something I wasn’t, and listening to it just makes me sad for that young guy trying so hard to fit in.  

Since you’re reading my blog, it’s a reasonable assumption that you listen to my music, and if I’ve done anything since I recorded my homespun “Off Kilter” album  in 1995, I’ve been true to myself.  I have made stripped-down Americana records and I’ve made hard-to-pin-down Jazz meets Randy Newman records.  Put me in a setting with Red Dirt Boys, and we’ll fly with the funk, or put me with The Ascendants, and I’m going to channel the Byrds and Beatles of my childhood.   I just do what I do, and I can hear a wide spectrum of influencers across the span of my 10 solo records.  

While I’m crowdfunding one record, I’m literally writing and recording the next.  I’m 72, and yet, I’m operating (for the moment) with all the capacity of a 25 year old.  It’s been said before- I’m a late bloomer.

All I can do is answer the muse, and the muse, it seems, won’t shut up.  God forbid that should ever happen!

“Falcon” opens with the line “There is a song I wish I’d never sung”.  

That line is a mile marker in my process- the journey of becoming.  My level of maturity is revealed in my intention.  It seems that as each record is birthed, the ingredient of goodwill seems to be in greater supply.  This isn’t to say that I won’t sing a hard-edged song, but it is to say that I hope for a positive outcome.  I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings; I just want the Light of my work to fill up the places of confusion and animosity.

What are you dreaming about?  What has been bouncing around in your head since Day One?  

Pay attention to your dreams.

Kate, Maddy, & Phil

2024 was a great year, full of work, travel, and good times.  My daughters Kate and Maddy remain the apples of my eye, and are each maintaining thoughtful, creative lives.  A highlight of the year was renting a place on the Atlantic in Rhode Island, and enjoying some down time with them, Jenny, and Elinor.  Jenny had never been to RI, and it was fun to show her around.  Elinor was, at that point, nearing the end of a year’s worth of cancer treatments, which she has now finished with, and we anticipate a full recovery.

While the others flew to RI, Kate and I drove the 1100 miles.  We were able to visit my niece Mary Anne and her family en route to RI.  Family remains important to me.  Earlier in the year, I’d seen my other niece Jenn when the band played in Boston.  One of my two nephews who are both named Dave lives nearby, and is the music director at St Bartholomew's in Nashville.  Once a month, he invites me to get behind a drum kit and play there, which means I get to see him and his sweet family.

I’m still with Emmyou Harris — it’s hard to believe that it’s been 17 years!  It’s still fun, and while we will be playing less in 2025, there are some dates on the books.  Meanwhile, Red Dirt Boys (her backing band) have played some wonderful shows on our own.  We also play Brown’s Diner in Nashville, either as the quartet, or as Phil Madeira Trio.  

BRYAN OWINGS, PHIL MADEIRA, WILL KIMBROUGH, EMMYLOU HARRIS, CHRIS DONOHUE, EAMON McLOUGHLIN

I released my “Funky Covers” record in 2024, and I’m about to release a new project of originals in early 2025, called “Falcon”.  Google that title with my name and you’ll find out more.  It’s hard to believe that at age 72, l am more productive than ever, but here I am, still doing it!

I did two Mercyland Songwriter Workshops — one in Ireland with my mate Sammy Horner, and one in Hot Springs, NC — always a wonderful time.  While I have an upcoming workshop in Ireland, I’m still trying to sort out where to do the summer US workshop, as Hot Springs NC was devastated by the floods that overtook much of North Carolina this year.  I sure hope they are able to rebuild that lovely town.

Jenny and I spent a week in Florida with Bryan Owings and his wife Sylvia in August.  What a great time with two of our dearest friends!  2024 has been the year of vacations, fun, and guilt-free.  I love my work so much that it’s hard not to take it with me, but how nice to just be someplace with nothing to do but read, swim, and cook with friends.

I was invited to produce some incidental music for a major motion picture — “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever”, which happens to be a story that I’ve always loved.  Red Dirt Boys and I threw together 4 jazzy, quirky takes on some old carols, and had fun doing it.  Elinor, Jenny, Kate, and Maddy joined me at a theatre on the film’s opening weekend, and we all loved it.  I’m proud to have a small part in what I think will be a classic for years to come.

In November, I had the opportunity to go into Blackbird Studios and record new music, which I can never pass up, so there will be yet another PM record coming toward the end of 2025.  Still at it! I guess I’m a late bloomer.

One fun thing I did purely for myself — I bought an old Miata.  Jenny won’t get near the thing, so the idea of a romantic drive with her in the country is limited to my old Flex wagon, and the Miata is a solo escape. Top down, no music, no nothing, except the sound of shifting through 6 gears. One thing I’ve noticed is that I smile when I drive it.  

I’m thankful for my steady friends, most of whom I play music with.  And I still maintain my regular hike, and I’m thankful that I can still ascend the Tennessee hills, usually with a friend.

2025 is wide open.  A few Emmylou shows, some workshops, and who knows what else?  I am finished with my next book — maybe I’ll have the courage to publish it this coming year.  

I’m probably missing something important in terms of my news, but I’m sure you can live without hearing about whatever it was.  I do enjoy hearing from any and all of you, and I do send my best regards for the new year.  And I’ll keep saying the same old prayer for peace, hoping that one day, it’ll take.

I still believe!

Love,

Phil

“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets their wings.”

I’m no angel, but I was given my wings in 1973, and they’ve led me to you.

This is a good time to let everyone know that I’ll be releasing two new records in 2025, one being a “live” recording called “Super Session”, and the other being a studio record of 11 songs that’s taken about 2 years to finish. I think my people will love it – it’s called “FALCON.”

For a preview, click HERE.

Why “FALCON”? Well… For one thing, a falcon is about as noble a bird as one could ever see. For another, my very first car was a 1964 Ford Falcon station wagon that my mother bought me in 1973 with $150 out of her church organ playing sock drawer.

The Falcon took me from Rhode Island to Indiana to college. I’ve chronicled the tale of my old faithful wagon in my song “Made Like Cars” on my CD “Motorcycle.” Rusty, beat, but running, it was nothing to look at, but took me everywhere. I loved that old car.

The new record has nothing to do with cars, but it does have a lot to do with the time period when my Falcon was flying me off to the life I’m still living. It took me to Indiana and Illinois, where I joined my first bands — Morninglory and Hickory Wind. It took me to see Dylan and The Band in 1974, and it took me to Chicago where I first saw John Prine. Indiana is where I met guitarist Phil Keaggy, whose band I joined in 1976, straight out of college. Sure enough, that beat up Ford took me to New York, where the band was based. The Falcon was humble, but it had wings, and flew me towards my dreams.

“Falcon” has a number of songs that reflect on those times, particularly in one song called “Gene”, that speaks of my old college buddy Gene Piertrini, who passed just a few years ago. Sing your grief, sing your joy, the muse has always whispered.

Certain themes are probably due to my age, although I’m not slowing down! But the regrets expressed in one song are universal, as is the love I express in another. I’ve always had a tendency to write from experience, and “Falcon” is largely autobiographical.

There are a few songs that find me walking in someone else’s shoes, like “King Of The Lucky Guys” — about a guy who was a nobody in high school who shows up at his class reunion, and “Ain’t Got You”, with a similar flair. “Impatience” is a look at “a song I wish I’d never sung” and “a note I wish I’d never sent”.

The record has a lot of goodwill — I hope it makes a difference in someone’s life. Perhaps the most important song on the project is called “Lesson Of Love”, inspired by someone who’ll remain anonymous. It addresses a parent who can’t accept their child as they are. I hope it heals somebody’s soul, if not everybody’s.

It’s my good fortune to access the hallowed halls of Blackbird Studios in Nashville a few times a year, and much of this recording was done there, with many of the musicians who I continue to collaborate with — the best in Nashville, if not the world. On January 7th, when the Kickstarter begins, you’ll be able to watch a video that reveals the players, as well as more about the songs and the campaign.

My web designer, Carol Statella, will make sure there’s a way for you to subscribe to this blog and pertinent news, and of course, if you don’t want to remain on our list, you can easily unsubscribe.

Thanks everyone! I sure hope you have a lovely holiday! May you have wings!

Merry Christmas

Phil