Finally Got 6 Degrees Of Separation From The Stones Down To 1

The first time is really spoke to Karl Denson was in Boulder Colorado in 1999. I was on the slow train west and had briefly met him when I left Boston a few weeks before. The day was strange from the jump. I was crashed out on a random couch and the neighbor, unknown to me, came bursting in. Apparently a wall had collapsed on him, I didn't ask any questions regarding validity of his wild claims because his entire body was bruised. He looked like a giant navy blue hatless smurf from a Christopher Nolan take on the franchise and though that was the summer of lsd, I knew I hadn't conjured him. He had a simple request, I change the number on his prescription from 33 Vicodin to 88 (his hands were also crushed) and I drive him to the pharmacy. Stranger or not, you can't refuse a dude who looks like a failed member of the blue man group. He tossed me a bunch of painkillers for my trouble and I in turn tossed them into my mouth like they were tic tacs, a couple beers later I found myself in that cosmic realm between space and time. When I met Karl I was a twirling blur of slurred hippie madness, I gave him a flute which I had on my person for some reason and some words of unnecessary encouragement like "keep doing that thing you've put your whole life into and are quite successful at." As if my my dumb numb ass had the potential to inspire the clearly inspired. I'm surprised there was a third meeting, but Karl would become instrumental in my reach as a musician. I performed spoken word with his band for thousands of people through the years, he was one of the first to trust me and give me a platform, he put me on one of his records and has given me some lyric writing opportunities as well. I couldn't have been happier for him when he joined the Rolling Stones last year as their touring saxophone player, not only cause I can say "I know someone from the Stones" (which I do three times a day), but because I can't think of a more deserving person. And while having a gig at the big dance, he still made time to record with the Cold Fact on a song we'll be releasing this week at the Music Box 10/9. The second time I met Karl Denson I approached cautiously, having seen him with his band Tiny Universe in Boston, Boulder and now San Diego, I didn't want him to think I was the deranged superfan who was going to steal a lock of his goatee before trying to murder him. I told him I just moved from Morristown New Jersey, he said "my wife's from there", and now I live in San Diego, he said "so do I". I said "small world" and as if we were in a terribly scripted buddy comedy from the writing team that brought you Turner and Hooch, he said "tiny universe"