I met Joe Grushecky on August 9, 1996.

I was visiting my folks in South River, New Jersey and I saw in the local newspaper that Joe and The Houserockers were playing close by at Club Bene in South Amboy. I had just recently discovered Joe’s record American Babylon via his working on that record with Bruce Springsteen, and as familiar with the songs on that record as I had become, I was unprepared for the real depth of Joe’s songwriting and poetry.

Joe performed two sets that night, the first set rocked very hard and I loved every second of it, but it was the start of the second set that cut through and made a very profound impression upon me. Joe walked onto the stage alone, with an acoustic guitar and leaned into the song, Oh Kathleen:

“She had a heart like the soul of a junkyard…”

That opening line grabbed my attention and I thought, wow, this guy is more than just the leader of a great bar band, he’s a true poet and his music is something that I need to pursue beyond his work with Springsteen.

As I headed out the door that night, I stopped to buy any music that he had available, and since he was standing right there, I figured I’d say hello and thank him for the show and the music. I shook his hand and had him sign the CDs I had just purchased. We talked for a few minutes and I took a photo with him, but I couldn’t wait to get in my car and listen to the CDs. The music was calling me. I ended up driving all over New Jersey that night listening, trying to ascertain as much as I could as fast as possible, and at the same time realizing, that as with all great music, it would be many miles and many years of listening over and over before I could truly start to digest it all, which is a journey that I sincerely enjoy, that the greatest artists and musicians take us on.

Some months later, I ended up writing Joe a letter, thanking him for the music, for the songs. I was twenty-six years old, with a young family and I found a lot of his music, his stories and his characters to be more grown-up and immediately relatable. These were songs that informed me, that steadied me, that comforted me. It was music that mattered, and I told him so. When I got a letter back from Joe, it was very meaningful and it started an exchange of letters that lead to a friendship. 

At one point, I shared some of my personal writings with Joe, poems that I had been scrawling into countless notebooks for years. He told me that he enjoyed my writing, that his wife Le Ann enjoyed my writing, and that I needed to turn some of those poems into songs. I said that I didn’t know where to start, and that’s when he said that I should visit Pittsburgh for a weekend.

On February 27, 2002, I boarded a plane for Pittsburgh to write and record songs with Joe. The next night, we sat in a Ramada Inn, pages of my writings strewn across a bed, Joe sitting on the edge of the bed with an acoustic guitar and we worked through some song ideas. And then that Friday, we drove to Weirton, West Virginia to Studio L where Producer and Engineer Rick Witkowski, Drummer Tony Mora, Guitarist Bill Toms, Keyboardist Hermie Granati and bassist Juan Casas helped us form those ideas into the Weekend In Pittsburgh EP.

This was music from the heart, and very personal to me, a document of a time in my life, and a collaboration with a musician and an artist that I greatly admire and that I am honored to call my friend. Looking back on the material, I see that I was attempting to create a blueprint in song, one that summarized my values, to inform my actions and to continue to fuel my dreams. The next fifteen years would prove challenging, and at times I would lose my way, and these songs and what they represent would at times get lost in that shuffle.

But as I listen to them now, with fresh ears, and a renewed strength and desire to live purposefully, these songs have a life and an energy that continues to inform and inspire the very best in me. I truly must thank Joe for bringing those qualities out in my writing and in me. As we sat in the motel room that night in 2002, working through the songs, I began shying away from any definitive statements and instead I began to attempt to make the songs vaguer. Joe insisted that each song must remain direct, open and optimistic, and he encouraged me to steer hard towards my better side. As I listen now, I know that that is the greatest gift he gave to me in these songs, a reflection that I could be proud of.

— Mike Vallely

2/15/17
Long Beach, CA.