Three Years of Songs and a New Chapter
I've been writing these (essentially) for free for three years. Here's why that's changing but also why it isn't.
Three years ago I started writing about every They Might Be Giants song in order and I told myself it was just something to do. A project. A weird little thing to keep me writing consistently.
I don’t think I believed anyone would actually read it regularly.
Over time, I started pouring more of my very personal backstory into these posts and they transformed into essays about how I grew up or past relationships, being a teen parent, etc. Less about each song and more about how I connect with them and what the songs mean to me.
I also decided to let the format or subject of the songs guide me and found myself trying very interesting things like writing 55 paragraphs for a 55 second song who’s only lyric is the word “hello.” Or the time I wrote a short film screenplay for the song For Science.
About a year ago, I was writing through the John Henry album which already had a lot of emotional baggage for me, and my wife decided she wanted to move out and stay married. Three days later, she also wanted to stop being married. I continued to pour those experiences into my writing and you all stayed with me. No matter what direction I was taking each piece.
That’s what this newsletter is. Not a music review blog. Not a TMBG encyclopedia. A place where I use songs as doors and walk through them to whatever’s actually on the other side. Sometimes that’s funny. Sometimes it’s a spy thriller in declassified dossiers. Sometimes it’s grief that I didn’t have language for yet.
Three years. 167 essays. Every Saturday, a new one.
Here’s something I’ve never told you directly: 46% of you open every email I send.
The industry average is 25%.
You are not a normal newsletter audience. You are people who actually show up, and I want you to know that I notice that every single week.
Through my marriage falling apart, the grief and healing from divorce, and then an aneurysm that nearly killed me - you kept showing up, and through the smallest act of opening an email or Substack notification, lent me a shoulder. Some of you left incredible comments and one of you even wrote a whole piece for me! (eternally grateful to Steve Goldberg.)
So here’s the thing I’m finally asking.
I turned on paid subscriptions this week. $7 a month or $60 a year.
Here’s what that gets you: the full archive — all 167 essays, unlocked. Early Friday delivery of the Saturday essay. The Kiss Me, Son of Extras posts where I write about TMBG B-sides and rarities. And two bonus posts a month — the behind-the-scenes version of how these essays get made, the cut paragraphs, the unfiltered process. Basically, more candid short form posts and access to my world.
Here’s what doesn’t change: the Saturday essay. Every week, free, forever. That’s the deal and it doesn’t move.
Someone once left a comment on one of these essays that I think about more than anything else anyone has ever said about this newsletter. They said this place reminded them they weren’t alone.
That’s what the $7 is for. Not TMBG facts. Not music criticism.
That.
There’s a 7-day free trial if you want to try it first. No pressure and no guilt if you don’t. You’ve been showing up for free for however long you’ve been here and that has always mattered and always will.
You, the one reading this right now, have helped me get through some seriously difficult times. Now that I have a year’s worth of distance between me and the divorce, and am miraculously fine after that ruptured aneurysm, I’m ready to dig in and let Kiss Me, Son of Blog be it what it’s been trying to be this entire time. I have no idea how to end this.
Thank you for being here while I figured that out.