Amy's Autobiography
The True and Incomplete History of Me by Me

I was born a while ago in Baltimore. I grew up with some brothers, a sister, a bunch of ill-fated dogs, cats, hamsters, parakeets and one turtle named "Snorts" because he snorted like a trucker. We are a smiling bunch of green-eyed, mostly blonde folk, some farmers, some nurses, some priests and nuns. From a very early age, we were taught to throw perfect spirals, read a compass, play a mean game of tennis and chant "We Are: Penn State" -- almost as important as the Apostle's Creed we'd chant on Sundays at Mass. As kids, we were not allowed to drink soda or eat sugared cereal. We were allowed to listen to as much Johnny Cash, Willie & Waylon and Jackie Wilson as we wanted.

I've been told that I sat down at my grandmother's piano at age 3 and plunked out "Mary Had A Little Lamb." I suspect this is myth. But I did start piano lessons at age 5, studied through high school, never practiced and became an expert at sight-reading and lying to my teacher about how many hours I practiced. I would utilize these skills while playing clarinet and tenor saxophone. I was a bit of a ham in school, and liked to make up skits and characters with my best friend Laura. We spent a lot of time in detention together. Someone got smart and figured out the best way to divert our energies was to give us both solo's in the middle school musical review. That was the beginning. A little bit of applause goes a very long way. Plus, I figured out very early that not being the most popular or the prettiest girl wasn't necessarily a problem when dealing with a 15 year old crush. Having the lead in the school musical sometimes was the best revenge.

But I digress.

What you wanted by reading this was the alternate story. The juice. The dirt.

To NYC Or Bust

Ok. Here’s how things started. After graduating from Amherst College, while most of my friends were going onto to law school and PhD programs, I took a year off deciding my next move. I worked as a baker, lived in the woods with an alt-rock band, rode my mountain bike in the Berkshires. I read a lot of Joseph Campbell and listened to a lot of The Replacements and Joni Mitchell. I did a summer of theater in Vermont, then moved to NYC and studied acting at the National Shakespeare Conservatory. I bought a cheap guitar at a pawn shop and taught myself to play while getting over a bad breakup. I listened to way too much Kate Bush and The The that fall and wrote some incredibly bad songs. I started a theater company, directed a play, acted in many plays and small films, waited tables and tended bar, was Lainie Kazan's personal assistant, temped, taught theater in public schools, lived in most every neighborhood in Manhattan (including Brooklyn and Jersey), started a band called Edith O., suffered the break-up of the band, picked myself up and started all over again.

I started playing regular shows at The Living Room in NYC, and met bass player extraordinaire John Abbey (David Poe, John Cale) who produced my first album, Fable. John connected me with drummer Jagoda (Jake, Rachael Sage, Swamp Cabbage), who I had been hearing of since the Edith O. days as one of NYC's best drummer/percussionists. When John moved to Chicago, and left me without a bass player, Jagoda suggested his good buddy Matt Lindsey (Mary Fahl, Swamp Cabbage), also a good singer.

The Tearjerks

At the time, I was living around the corner in Hoboken, NJ from an old flower shop turned into a guitar store called The Guitar Bar, run by musician and songwriter James Mastro, ex-Bongos and Health & Happiness Show (you might have seen James playing accordion with The Jayhawks or guitar with Ian Hunter). The Guitar Bar was a local hang for all sorts of types and I'd see guys from Television, Tiny Lights and other touring musicians just hanging out there. I had just started playing out again and took a few guitar lessons from Boo Reiners (Demolition String Band), when I gave an early demo to James asking him to play a show with me. He did, then he offered to produce a song, and he's been the lead guitar player in my band ever since. Another guitar teacher and extraordinary player haunts the Guitar Bar, Rich Feridun (Bitter Poet, Rogue’s March), and I picked him up for his awesome chicken picking licks. Through James, I met some of the Cropduster folks and on lucky occasions, I get Bob Perry playing guitar and/or lap steel and his lovely bride Stephanie Seymour of Birdy singing harmonies with me. I call the band The Tearjerks.

Now, I live in Jersey, right across the river from Manhattan. I have a lovely view of the Statue of Liberty and the new downtown. I have 2 dogs, June and Maybelle, a mother-daughter pair of Bluetick Coonhounds we rescued from a shelter. I tour most of the year, playing in colleges, clubs and cafes all across the country. I love traveling to out of the way places. You won't find me at a Club Med. I like roughing it and finding the cheapest Lumberjack breakfast in every town. I trekked through Southeast Asia with my brother and saw two of the most amazing things: the temples at Angkor Wat and a strip club in Bangkok. I have run the NYC Marathon twice; once I even trained for it. I have a decent backhand and a terrible serve in tennis. I can throw a perfect spiral. I can't balance my checkbook. I am incapable of telling a brief, direct story. I deal in tangents and details.

I've been called "sassy." Sometimes that's a bad thing. I embrace it as a good thing.

Back to the Press page