What's up with the Honeycomb, anyways? And why we're asking for your help.

Last month, I had the great privilege of devoting an entire month to doing what I love.  How?  A lot of hard work, a little bit of luck, some planning, and the support of a couple very important people.  On the morning of July 24th, I drove my old-ass van out of Queens, down the BQE, over the Williamsburg bridge and into the East Village.  I picked up my partner in crime Chrissy Sandman.  We ate chips and drove west towards a lovely little pocket of western PA.  Chrissy’s family have a lovely home in this quaint little town called Ligonier, and they were crazy/generous enough to allow us to convert the living room into a studio.  A messy, wire-filled, noisy, beautiful make-shift studio.  For the next 5 weeks, we worked tirelessly to record the dozens of songs we’d written in the past year.

We knew the record was going to be called Honeycomb.  (We decided this sometime in the spring.)  We knew we had A LOT of songs.  And we knew we wanted to record as many of them as possible.

For the most part, Chrissy and I were alone - making noise and shaping sounds day and night.  We took breaks of course, but only when our brains couldn’t stand to hear another sound.  And when we weren’t working, we were surrounded by the surreal and calming silence of the Laurel Highlands. If New York City is bursting with motion and noise, then surely this place wasn’t devoid of it - just filled with different versions.  The motion of stillness.  The sound of silence.  

two roads diverged in a yellow wood...

We were making a record about the relationship between nature and civilization; reality and fantasy; life and death.  And there we were.  Two musicians who drove from one of the most insane cities on this earth to the quiet stillness of a forest some 60 miles southeast of Pittsburgh.  The planets had aligned!  Everything was making sense!  If this were an experiment that Chrissy was conducting, then the variables would have all aligned to create some fantastic, unexpectedly beautiful result!


We did it.  We recorded 20 songs and I’m more proud of these songs than I have ever been of anything I’ve ever done.  Now, we wanna do it up big.  We want to share it with everyone we know and anyone we don’t know who is willing to listen.


I frequently listen to music while lying in bed at night.  And when I crawl into bed after a long day, I want to hear something that hugs me, whispers in my ear, takes me on a dream-ride.  I want to fall in love with the characters and stories.  I want to feel my existence on this earth solidified!  I want to feel as if I have been shot through with light!  It might be a lot to hope for.  But it has happened.  And it will happen a couple more times, I’m sure.  Isn’t it stunning how a single piano note, or the clang of the right guitar chord, or the energy of vocal can bring us such a sense of clarity?


Maybe... just maybe...in the quiet of a couple dorm rooms ... or over the gentle roar of tires sailing down a highway, Summer Underground has brought you some of those feelings.  That’s why we write songs after all, for you.  So we are asking for your help, your generosity.  We want your spirit with us.  Consider joining us on this adventure.  If you can’t donate, share it with your friends.  Play SU at your next party.  Spread the love.

Here's a link to the kickstarter: 


Thanks for reading.
Love love love
- Grant