I’ve been seeking identity. Change has often come, for me, from the outside in. Throughout my life I have made adolescent choices, emotional choices, musical choices (for better or for worse) which have dictated how I ought to dress, and thus dictate how I ought to act.

When I discovered Punk rock, I worked at my look for years until it was just right. The look was so well refined that my behavior had to live up to it. When I was done with Punk rock, I chose another external look, and strove to live up to that as well. This was fun, and often cute as a teenager, and even my early twenties shift from “youth culture” to black turtlenecks and jazz was a relief. A place to go, music to dig, people to meet: identity.

I have long been somewhat of a jeans and a t-shirt sort of person. I don’t change my appearance quickly, or often. I have worn a uniform of baggy jeans, birkenstocks, and usually a white t-shirt for many years. Variation is usually brought on by the length of my hair, the jacket I wear, and a favorite necklace. Sometimes I wear my glasses, sometimes I don’t.

This past weekend I had a series of shows, my first since Dubtribe ended last year. I wanted to find a way to break from the past, to set myself free from all that I had expected of myself, and the clichés which I have long felt so oppressed by. I am not a hippie, or into anything very “cyber,” but because I am unkempt, natural, and love to preach from the pulpit about life, and fear, and hope and love it is so natural to blow me off as some kind of a throwback. This has never made me happy, and I felt this was the moment to break free.

I decided that it’s been long enough, and I might travel further back to my seminal influences and begin again. From the soul and disco artists I loved in the very early 70’s to Elvis Costello, one common thread between them all has been the suit jacket and tie. Appear humbly manicured, and appropriate for evening wear, and let the content of your heart, your music, do all the talking. This is exactly what I did.

I arrived at the airport in a black, three button suit jacket, a black dress shirt, and the ugliest tie I could find. I wore shoes and socks. It felt great.

At the airport I immediately noticed that people treat you differently when you wear a tie. My camera tested positive for glycerine (an explosive) and while I have been searched from head to toe when the tests return negative, somehow in a tie they were very apologetic, and did not strip search me. They called me Sir.

In New York, a few friends were eyeballing my tie, but overall my impression was that the experiment was going well, and people were not taken aback by the huge stylistic change in my appearance. King Street had some questions, because my press photos had all been taken of me with long hair and sandals…. now here I come in a tie with short hair, but I assured them I only cut my hair once a year and by summer I will look like I always look again.

Boston felt different. There were comments, some degree of surprise, and what felt like some confusion. I was unable to convince Michael to wear a tie and join the experiment, so he was in his t-shirt drumming, and I was more formal behind the decks. It didn’t feel exactly right.

Monday at Deepspace Michael joined the experiment and wore a shirt and tie, and we were connected in a new way. We were in this together, and the show was superb. I don’t think that our ties had anything to do with the depth of the show, but on a subconscious level, being aligned together in our neckwear, and feeling united in our experimentation of identity was a positive feeling, and certainly more interesting than if we’d selected matching denim jump suits.

One thing I’ll note is that while I felt punky, and audacious in a tie, I’m not entirely sure that at my age it actually comes off that way. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, simply following my instincts and trusting my creative heart. What was most enlightening to me is that despite my shift in visual appearance, the warmth, and spirit of my music was still communicated clearly. Red grabbed me and wrapped her warm and loving arms around me announcing “You are my new boyfriend!” and Letty and I had the most powerful conversation in the hallway after my set at Cielo about love, and truth, and letting go. Men shook my hand, people kissed me, rubbed my back, and looking into my eyes with thanks and praise. I didn’t need a beanie, or a pair of sandals to express myself. I only needed to let go, and set this love free.

All in, I think the tie experiment was a success. I’ll keep you posted.