By Derek Sikkelee

I used to come home from school, walk in quietly through the back porch door, slip by the living room where I’d give a requisite wave to my Mom teaching piano to one of the neighborhood kids, and bound up the little stairway to my room. Outside the door, the strained sounds of half-awake hands stumbling through an overworked sonata would give my sanity a run for its money. Sometimes sleep would do the trick-- but the most satisfying and ironic escape was my cheap stereo. I had no favorite station--or recording--but I was extremely particular about what I liked--it had to be played with conviction and sincerity---I was a sucker for pathos and melodic hooks.It was in these dark, powerful tunes that I found great solace, beauty, and strength-- and it was through this cathartic process that I came to start songwriting... .

I had already been taking classical lessons for the upright double bass, but just as I was getting frustrated with the staid lines this instrument usually plays, the beauteous thunder broom bass of Mike Watt dropped down on me like a ton of bricks. After my first live witness of Watt, I began to work on honing my own aesthetic --I took some music theory at school and with ample noodling on my Mom’s piano, began to develop what eventually turned into my way of writing...

Blanket came out of these songs I write-- with drummer Bill McClintock--whose intense feel simultaneously anchors, pushes, and pulls these songs, providing a safe haven for my restless bass--and guitarist Nick Dumitriu -who effortlessly combines subtle nuanced playing with the big rock. Over, in, and under this, I'm singing my way back to that same dark, empowering space I'd go to in my room -- smiling all the way.