Today John Burgess, founder of The Eggmen announced that November 16 at Backstage at El Mercado would be the last ever Eggmen gig after 32 years, so I thought I’d try to collect my thoughts on my journey to being a small part of that legendary legacy.

The Beatles are the deepest part of my musical being. The most foundational part of my musician DNA. My mother was a huge Beatles fan as a teenager and even got to see them in concert. Growing up, we had all her records in the house. Mostly the Capitol American releases. I wouldn’t learn until quite a few years later that those were kind of haphazard, Frankensteined releases and not the true UK releases as intended.

I had always been impressed with the incredible range of their catalog. Comparing their first album to their last is like two completely different bands. They defined and defied genres. They experimented with recording techniques thought to be outrageous and even taboo to the the studio engineers at the time. Techniques that would go on to become industry standards. They invented technologies that became standard tools in the toolbox. It is important that you realize that when I say “they,” that includes George Martin (the true fifth Beatle in my opinion), Geoff Emerick, Mal Evans, and everyone in their camp who helped them create that music.

They have been with me through so much of my life. Comforted me in difficult times and brought me joy in all times. To this day I somehow continue to discover more and more new things through their music. It’s a neverending source of knowledge and inspiration.

I had heard of The Eggmen, this legendary Austin Beatles tribute band, decades before I lived here. Yet somehow I never actually saw them until they just happened to be playing at Central Market when I was there one day in 2018. In 2021, my friend and bandmate in several bands, Matt Patterson, became their drummer. In 2022, he recommended our mutual friend and bandmate, David Houston when the bass slot opened up. Then later that year when they were doing some shows with some local orchestras and needed a keyboard player to play a lot of that stuff, both of them recommended me. Let me tell you, there is not much I have experienced that is as magical as playing Beatles songs while surrounded by a live orchestra playing those songs with you.

For the next year, they would call me in when they needed a keyboard player for those bigger gigs or when they’d be playing a lot of keyboard dependent stuff. I played alongside many former members as well for the 30th anniversary show which was the one time I got to meet and play with JB’s brother, Tommo who used to play keys with the band before he retired his position. In the Autumn of 2023, they asked me to be a full time member. I was elated and gave an enthusiastic “YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!” My first gig with them as a full time member was October 13, 2023. Which turned out to be quite interesting.

I was loading up my car at about 4pm to go load in for the gig when we all got a text than John Burgess had gone to the hospital with some kind of emergency. Quickly assessing our plan of action, the other lads brought up the prospect of me filling in for JB. I said that I absolutely felt up to the task and that, in fact, it felt like I had been training my whole life for this moment. I very quickly went back inside and loaded up lyrics for every song into Band Helper, the app I use for set lists and such. There was no time to rehearse. I drove straight to the gig, set up and quickly assessed our set list for the night, and what I would be doing on each song. Any song with a prominent keyboard part, I would play that, but anything else I would wing it on guitar and hope for the best. I would also sing everything that JB sang which was most of the list. I felt strangely calm about it. I knew these songs in my bones. The chords just found my fingers. The lyrics came out of the mental archive with ease. These songs had been etched into my neural pathways for most of my life.

The gig was amazing. I filled the same role for several other gigs while JB recuperated. When he rejoined the band, he was a little worried about his voice so usually I would still double any vocals, which worked out well as our voices blended well together and a lot of Beatles vocal lines were double-tracked because Lennon hated the sound of his own voice and thought doubling it made it sound better. And now it seems this (not) Long (enough) and Winding Road is coming to “The End.”

My tenure as an Eggman may have been short, but it was filled with life-changing magic. My late friend Val had a “Bucket List” of things she wanted to do in her remaining time here and seeing me perform with The Eggmen was one of them. I was so glad we made that happen. Right up to the end, she would text me about how we should be ending EVERY show with me singing “Hey Jude” because she thought it brought the house down.

And so with today’s announcement that November 16 at Backstage at El Mercado will be the last gig for The Eggmen, the remaining members contemplate our path ahead. Many of us know that we definitely want to continue playing the music of The Beatles in some form, and I’m sure we will. It will be sad to no longer be “The Eggmen” (which we all agree is the BEST name for a Beatles Tribute ever) and to see that legendary legacy set with the sun, but the music is bigger than all of us. People want to hear it, and we want to play it. I personally have some very mixed feelings about it all, and am just trying to take some time to process and contemplate the future. I do know that no words seem sufficient and that I am filled with gratitude and honored that I got to be a part of this amazing group, playing the best music with the best people, even if only for a short time.

I think the best parting words are the words of The Beatles themselves, from the appropriately titled, “The End.”

“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”

I am the Eggman. They are the Eggmen.

Goo goo g’joob.

For some reason I found myself thinking about my favorite teacher, Cindy Riley. Mrs. Riley was my eighth grade English teacher. This was a “gifted and talented” English class (or maybe it was “honors” or “advanced,” I can’t remember which term was in use that year) which meant we focused less on the technical grammar stuff (though still present, obviously) and more on creativity. I remember when she played us “Piano Man” by Billy Joel and we analyzed the lyrics and the poetic and storytelling style. I also remember how I was really into Billy Joel’s “The Stranger,” “52nd Street,” and “Glass Houses” albums, and his voice on “Piano Man” is quite different from those later albums to the point that I though it was playing too fast and pitching his voice up.

It was the class where I learned about Edgar Allen Poe and that I really liked him. And that he really liked the word “bosom.” Seriously. It’s strangely frequent in his works.

It was the class where, instead of “journal entries,” she let me and my best friend since 4th grade, Andy Hunter, turn in cassettes of our silly songs and skits. Andy is still one of my best friends and creative collaborators today which is so amazingly cool. We’ve released songs together. I’ve narrated 4 audiobooks of his works so far. I think that would all make Mrs. Riley smile.

It’s the only class that I really specifically remember all these years later. She was a shining example of what a teacher should be and I have to wonder how many other stories like mine are out there from all her years teaching since. So here’s to Mrs. Riley, who I hope is still leaving lifelong lasting impacts on young minds. I’m certainly a better and more creative person for having had her class.

I have a weirdly deep sense of loyalty. Even to stupid trivial things. I’m also a sucker for “streaks” which is why so many apps use them. For example, I started meditating in 2014 and started using the “Insight Timer” app. I currently have a 3691 day streak of meditating. In 2019 when I came back from 7 months on the cruise ship, I learned TM (Transcendental Meditation). Since then I still used Insight Timer to time my mediations. I just learned yesterday that TM now has it’s own official app. I downloaded it as there is exclusive “refresher” videos and such only available on the app (and only available if you’ve paid in the past to take the TM course). You can also get one on one free refreshers with a local instructor any time you want after you’ve taken the course but being able to do it in app appealed to me as well as having a TM specific timer/calendar/streak etc. all in the TM app.

But part of me feels this loyalty to Insight Timer. And if I switch, I’ll lose my streak and start over! Now another part of me thinks “So? Why does that matter?” Good question, me. It really doesn’t. Is that some weird ego feeding thing that it would actually be GOOD for me to let go of? Why should it matter that I have a 10 year history with an app? It’s just a meditation timer. I feel like there’s deeper lessons in this seemingly trivial situation.

I’m a big fan of Eckhart Tolle. As someone who is spiritual but not religious, his books are the closest thing to religion I’ve ever found. They just resonated with me on the deepest levels. I definitely think presence is the goal and the secret to truly being happy.

However I am also very nostalgic which I feel is directly at odds with this. I spend so much thought time in the past. Missing people, places, and experiences I’ve had. I don’t know that it really serves any good purpose other than possibly fueling some great art. It feels like a weight though. When you are nostalgic, the longer you live, the more weight you carry. One thing I came to terms with after years in therapy however is that part of me enjoys it on some level. I’m someone who loves to feel and the past is a quick and easy fix to feel some intense feelings. I’ve definitely strengthened my presence muscle over the years, but the nostalgia muscle is already very developed.

Each night though I am eager to race to bed, I stubbornly resist sleep.
That sweet purgatory, the void space where you have ended the day officially, but unofficially, you squeeze every last moment from it just for yourself.
Tomorrow holds such promise. Tabula rasa. A clean slate. New beginnings.
But then tomorrow becomes just another today, and nothing changes.
The same struggles. The same weights. The same.
You hope for some magical change like a gift from the universe, but it has not come.
Change is hard and must be wrestled from the aether.
Tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we try again.