PREMIERE | Cameron Leahy, "Monterey"

The modern mystic world of Cameron Leahy; press photo courtesy of the artist.

In this day and age, the wandering storyteller has become something of a modern trope. The troubadour on the move, describing the freeway lined landscape, the fields full of amber waves of grain and the inhabitants of one horse and two horse towns alike. These ballads offer a view of outsiders, insiders, butchers, bakers, derelicts, nobles, belligerent and inebriated sheriffs and highwaymen with hearts of good. Tales of outlaws versus the moral upholders of the empirical orders, recitations of suspect histories and nomads searching for that supernatural freedom of the soul.

Cameron Leahy recently made a sincere and serene splash with the cosmic road pop of "From the Infinite" from the upcoming album Dizzy Freedom, applying some of that same wide eyed spirit in a tribute to the famous first city of California with the world debut of "Monterey". The Los Angeles by way of Virginia artist partakes in a grand tradition of writers who have embraced that Kerouac-ian On the Road spirit to a place where countless people find a beguiling source of unlimited awe. A quaint and sleepy patch of coastal peninsula where the the intersection of earth and sea collide in a rugged corner of the Pacific. A place of mysticism where by the communion of nature each individual spirit discovers a new point of purpose and degree of enlightenment according to each’s own respective passions.

"Monterey" mixes modern rambling and traveling trajectories and song with a kayak full of Steinbeck flair. With songs that reference scenes ripped straight from the classic book and post-industrial boulevard of Cannery Row, Cameron Leahy generously shares his own connection to the 831 area code. The song strums like a venerable vision quest seeking drifter making their way across the notable points of interest that dot California's shoreline along Highway 1 (and other connecting transit tributaries). "Monterey" finds Leahy pondering what it would be like to live like Mac and the boys from the novel Cannery Row to what the artist discovers along their own travels along the tide pools and winding roads that offer breathtaking vistas. The chorus back to Monterey, find yourself and you're free shares in the joy of finding that spark that many before and after have realized from trips to this magic land.

Complete with accompanying visuals that mixes modern and vintage film of the Monterey County peninsula, Cameron Leahy invites you to share in a world that is unlike your average beach town. A place where the wonders of the natural realm continue to thrive according to their own sciences and magnificent mysteries. A place where the enchanted is met with a rustic senses of timeless realities. A place unlike anywhere else in the world. A land that offers something special for everyone seeking something greater than themselves and their own respective perceptions and bodies of knowledge. Cameron Leahy leads the listening audience to the places where the spirit finds renewal and release into the great wide open of oceans and earthly portals.

Enjoying a chanterelle with Cameron Leahy; press photo courtesy of the artist.

Cameron Leahy generously shared some exclusive items of limitless inspiration:

The Best Show with Tom Scharpling and his memoir, It Never Ends

For the past couple of years, listening to the sprawling archive of The Best Show — a legendary freeform music and talk radio show that thrives to this day — has become one of my regular joys and reliable comforts. Through its psychedelic prism, I’ve had a chance to re-examine the past twenty-plus years, week by week, and take stock of how things have changed, as I laugh like an idiot.

The depth of the body of work amassed on The Best Show — which airs every Tuesday night on Twitch and is available on podcast  — is so unprecedented that it’s difficult to do it justice. It’s a monumental achievement in large part due to how singular the vision has been from the beginning. Host Tom Scharpling’s taste in music has had a deep impact on me. The show in its latest incarnation, partnered with Forever Dog, excels with some of the best in-studio performances from current artists anywhere, period. And they manage to do all this with crowdfunded resources. Tom’s attitude about making the thing that you want to see exist in the world, and making it happen yourself, continues to keep me and countless others excited about creating stuff. Undoubtedly, if you were to compile a list of artists who would credit the show as an important touchstone in their creative journey, it would be a tome, probably resulting in a huge conspiracy wall full of red string and push-pins.

From the show’s beginning at WFMU, Tom’s tongue-in-cheek persona became the embodiment of a steamroller, ready to “punch you in the face.” Combative with low-energy callers, Tom will explode in moments of transcendent ire. “How dare you?” and “Get off my phone!” have become hallmark lines. If the caller’s a chump with a bad take, Tom relishes in hanging up on the dummy, whose disembodied voice can be heard quietly dying mid-syllable.

Between Scharpling and Jon Wurster — the Dionysus to Tom’s Apollo on The Best Show — you have not only a comedic duo as funny as anything that has ever existed, you have two people who love music so much, they’ve become scholars. They revel in rattling off names I’ll have to scramble to look up, which never fails to make the whole thing even funnier after I do. Sidenote: Wurster’s esteemed career as a drummer deserves its own focus.

The show’s centerpiece is often a call between the two, with Wurster phoning in as one of the countless unhinged characters living in the fictional town of Newbridge, NJ. The conversations will veer and mutate, as Wurster’s character explains what preposterous or possibly dire situation they’ve managed to walk right into, often through blindly dumb bravado. A running theme on the show is mocking the self-proclaimed “experts” and snobs who believe they’re the authority on everything. The calls are laced with so many details and deep-cut references to rock history minutiae, it makes the journey (regularly stretching to half an hour-plus) richly rewarding on repeat listens. They’ve admitted no one besides the two of them can catch every in-joke.

A personal favorite running gag: Wurster’s fondness for shoehorning in the word “flagrant” at every opportunity. Another: Wurster’s stock excuses for breaking off-mic: “Sorry, there was a mouse running across the kitchen floor and you won’t believe what it was wearing… a tiny cape.” Here’s a line that needs no context: “Blue cotton candy is the healthiest because it has the antioxidants from the blueberries.”

There are countless calls but here are a few that come to mind: an irate hot dog vendor; a local baseball player riding so high on the success of one game, he goes on a bender that leaves him falling asleep on the mound standing up; and of course, the Bugs Bunny-like sports fanatic, Philly Boy Roy, whose allegiance to his city is unbound by the laws of reality.

One memory that has been branded into my synapses for eternity: crying laughing, along with everyone at a holiday-themed live show this past year, watching Tom, with puppet in hand, sing “Twelve Days of Vapemas,” as he went down the docket of various vape products, in place of turtle doves et al, in between ripping huge clouds off this disgusting vape (through the puppet’s mouth) for our entertainment.

If you’re looking for somewhere to start, most would probably recommend the early, seminal Scharpling & Wurster call, “Rock, Rot & Rule” — an author calls in claiming to have written the definitive encyclopedic list of which musicians do or do not — to the outrage of many listeners.

Finally, Tom’s memoir “It Never Ends!” (the entry point for my Best Show journey) is as candid and poignantly funny as anything committed to print. Top shelf. TOP SHELF! It’s a magic trick when someone can infuse both heart and humor into their art, and no one straddles that line more deftly than Tom does every week. His memoir, along with the early Scharpling & Wurster calls, are perfect entry points into a land of “mirth, music and mayhem.”

Cover art for Cameron Leahy’s single “Monterey”.

Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness and Creativity by David Lynch

I was very curious when I heard about transcendental meditation through the David Lynch Foundation. David spoke about TM’s powerful impact on his own life, having practiced it since he was in his twenties. I reached out and took some classes about six years ago. It’s been comforting to know I have this tool in my arsenal I can turn to when I need it.

One thing we touched on was how little time modern society spends during waking hours just being there. It makes sense that getting back in touch with that side of our consciousness would have a healing benefit. Lynch illustrates the concept elegantly in his book, Catching the Big Fish, which really made it click for me and captured my imagination. He likens your mind to an ocean where you spend most of the time up on the crashing waves — the noise of everyday life. But allow yourself to take that submarine down and you’ll encounter some wild, fantastic stuff you didn’t know was down there.

My hope is that TM becomes ever more normalized in regular work and home life. I’m optimistic that this is already happening. Imagine a reality where the majority of people are tapping into that side of their minds. Healing introspection can only lead to change for the better.

If you can, please support the David Lynch Foundation, which continues doing great work in helping people heal and better their lives through TM education. You can learn more about their efforts and impact at davidlynchfoundation.org

Books on exploration/survival in far-flung parts of the world

I’m a sucker for anything high-stakes exploration. It’s definitely survivor porn but you also uncover tales of human endurance, doggedness and passion that I find fun and interesting to read. It makes you appreciate creature comforts. Sometimes I think, 'yeah that would be fun' and then I read firsthand accounts, like the ones in Candice Millard's book River of Doubt. She recounts that Theodore Roosevelt, his son and their exploration team all nearly died while traversing an unmapped section of the Amazon River.

Millard also wrote another great book about the decorated English soldier and iconoclast Richard Burton, a sort of Dos Equis-type, who spoke 29 languages and famously translated The Arabian Nights. The novel, River of the Gods: Genius, Courage, and Betrayal in the Search for the Source of the Nile, is about unchecked ego, colonialism and yes, lots of near-death encounters, as characters trudge through the interior of Africa, searching for answers, while things try to crawl inside your ear as you sleep.

Next up on my survival docket is Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. In a harrowing account, Krakauer chronicles his experience during the 1996 Mount Everest disaster, one of the deadliest climbing seasons in Everest's history.

Cameron Leahy’s solo album Dizzy Freedom will be available June 7.