Jamming with Colin Linden

Colin Linden is back in town, and we arrange to meet at his favorite café. I’m in for a treat—I have my hometown café (Caffe Sola, I miss you dearly) and I know the significance of these familiar spaces, the baristas who know your drink, the unique, community feel. And I love searching out funky cafes, which on the road becomes an office, watering hole, and gauge on the local flavor. Colin’s hangout is no disappointment—amazing Americano, funky space filled with students and artists diligently plucking away in their notebooks and laptops. I feel right at home.

Colin walks in, wearing his trademark black pants, black shirt, black suede jacket and black hat—the picture of blues cool. We immediately sink into an amazing conversation about music and life and the next album. Everytime I start telling Colin about the players and albums that have changed my life, he tells me he’s worked with that person—and in most cases, he’s intimate friends with half of them! The more we talk about my work, I gain clarity and a more solid vision of what I want the next album to be.

The next day, Colin swings by my humble little pad with his guitar. I play him some songs that I think might make it on the next record, and Colin effortlessly jams along, playing as if he’s heard these songs a hundred times and intelligently following every change. It is easy and beautiful to just sit in that room making music with Colin. He loves the songs, and I tour him through a range of styles and sounds, some tunes I’ve just written this week in Nashville too.

Eventually, I’ve got to leave for a session with Vince—so I promise to send Colin some demos and we’ll continue the conversation from there. When do we start?