Album Notes

A Living, Loving, and Dying Failure

After a childhood in the fun-loving beach town of Santa Cruz, CA and finishing a college career in sunny San Diego, J. O’Brien relocated to The City by the Bay. The Father began with O’Brien’s first songs written in a tiny, overpriced San Francisco apartment. Broke, hungry, and working as a record store clerk in the long dead heart of the Beat Movement, North Beach, he began writing music for life’s mistakes and the choice to continue making them. A musical homage to all of our living failures, fusing together artful lyricism and a musical style that falls along the lines of Nick Cave, Tom Waits, and Leonard Cohen.

The Father’s first show in San Francisco marked the first of many stunningly powerful performances coming out with a heavy boot stomping, guitar swinging, and a voice building from soulful to scream in .5 seconds. It was also the first of many audiences that took to pounding pint glasses in time, screaming out loud, and throwing taunts, jabs, and appreciation in the direction of The Father and his music. He has since instituted a “cheers” rule after every three songs much to the delight of local bartenders, creating shows that resemble a gathering of the Cult of Dionysus rather than the “acoustic showcase” many have come to expect from solo performing musicians.

After a long hiatus from live performance and the separation from his later, ex-wife in 2007, he immediately went to work on restarting his career in music. In a few short months, shows were booked, shirts were hand printed, and recording had begun for the EP, Residual Track Hounds. Though the first few recorded songs for RTH had garnished great feedback, the EP would not be heard publicly. The studio where Residual Track Hounds was being recorded, shut down in early 2008 and the recordings were lost.

In the late spring of 2008, the EP “Fresh Pack of *Failures” was recorded and ready for print without hitch in San Diego, CA at Monolith Studios. As FPO*F was readied for release, The Father relocated to Portland, OR with only his lady, a few possessions, a one month supply of coffee, and a carton of failures. Once settled in Stumptown, the FPO*F artwork was stamped, copied, and printed by hand in his small apartment where he now lives “comfortably below the poverty line.”