Q: “More Than Just a Job” feels incredibly personal—what was the moment or story that sparked you to write it?

A: I wrote the words after I joined the Ironworkers union.  I had actually come up with the guitar part years prior, and I was really excited about how the finger style sounded.  But I had a difficult time finding subject matter that resonated with me as much as the guitar melody did.  Once I got into the union and started absorbing the culture, I knew I had found something worthy of putting to the music.  It was the first job I ever had where I wasn’t simply clocking in and counting down the hours til I could leave.  It was, as the title says, more than just a job.  So I started with that, and the rest of the words came naturally.

Q: As a fourth-generation ironworker, how did your family legacy shape your perspective not just as a worker, but as a songwriter?

A: As an ironworker, it gave me a lot to try and live up to.  I’m sure it’s the same with anyone in any industry who is part of a family legacy.  It opens a lot of doors for you, but it also puts you under a lot of pressure.  It feels like being average would be a serious disappointment.  That makes for a lot of anxious moments, but it also pushes you to be a lot better than you might have been otherwise.  Double-edged sword, I suppose.

As a songwriter, I think it really grounded me.  It gave me real life experience doing something significant.  That in turn gave me more relatable subject matter to write about.  This song, for instance, was written around my experience as a union ironworker, but the words resonate with people in all walks of life: military, police, firefighters, other tradesmen, etc…

Q: There’s a real sense of pride and danger in your lyrics—how do you balance honoring that risk while making the song feel hopeful and empowering?

A: This is something I’ve told a lot of people about iron work, whether it’s a prospective member or just someone interested in what we do.  The work is extremely demanding and it can kill you in a second if you’re not careful.  You find yourself in positions that make you second guess what the hell you’re doing all the time.  Just comes with the territory.  But every day you walk off the job, it feels like you just won a fight.  I imagine it’s similar to the “runner’s high” that long distance runners speak of.  You have an endorphin rush similar to after a workout but also a tremendous sense of pride knowing you just accomplished something a majority of the population wouldn’t even dare attempt, and for you that was just a day’s work.  It’s quite the ego boost.

Q: You’ve drawn comparisons to Johnny Cash and Woody Guthrie—were they conscious influences, or did their spirit naturally seep into your writing?

A: Probably both.  I’ve always liked the sound of old American folk, long before I even knew what to call it.  I don’t know if it came from cowboy campfire songs I heard in old Westerns or maybe Little House on the Prairie episodes or what.  My dad listened to a lot of country but nothing like Woody Guthrie.  It wasn’t until around my early 20s with the assistance of YouTube and torrent sites that I was able to put a name to the genre and start going down that rabbit hole.  As I did, it became very clear that this was the influence I’d been trying to tap into all along.

The Johnny Cash style entered the picture a few years later when I decided to learn “A Boy Named Sue” because it was my Grandpa’s (we called him Papa) favorite song.  I actually wasn’t much of a Cash fan prior to that, but once I got that bass note picking style down and could sing along to it, I really fell in love with the whole vibe.  I also found that when covering songs where the original key was out of my vocal range, if I switched to the Cash guitar style while dropping the key, it added a whole new dynamic to the song.  So I started incorporating some of that in my originals too.

Q: What’s been the response from your fellow union workers and job site crews to the song?

A: I would say it’s been pretty much unanimously positive.  We take a lot of pride in our work, and even a haphazardly slapped together song about what we do tends to go over well.  Something with a little more thought in addition to the relatability goes over even better.  For the past 3 years now, I’ve been asked to play the song live at our apprenticeship graduation ceremonies.  I consider that quite the honor.

Q: “More Than Just a Job” is about the broader working-class experience—how important is it for you to give voice to stories that often go unheard in mainstream country?

A: Two things I know I don’t want to be are generic and insincere.  I know a lot of musicians sing songs written by other people, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  But I think a song resonates strongest when it comes from someone who has lived the lyrics.  I think other people who have also lived those lyrics can tell the difference, and I want to be that difference.  Introducing listeners to a world that hasn’t had a ton of exposure in the music industry is also something I look forward to.  There are plenty of songs out there about cowboys, but how about the cowboys in the sky?

Q: Can you talk about the production choices on the track? What made you go for that raw, no-frills sound?

A: Given my affinity for Cash and Guthrie, I felt for many years that guitar and vocals alone were enough.  The majority of the shows I played before this recording were solo.  It was a friend of mine who I met through punk rock bands who convinced me to take my acoustic songs into a studio and record with a full band.  As we worked our way through the songs, we decided that some of them were stronger with a simpler approach, and this was one of them.

Q: Do you see this as the beginning of a larger project—maybe an album centered around labor, legacy, and blue-collar life?

A: Well, “More Than Just a Job” is already part of an album called “Walk the Iron.”  That’s an obvious (I hope) nod to Cash’s “Walk the Line,” but with an ironworker spin.  My plans for the future are to release singles rather than full albums as my spare time for recording is pretty limited.  I’d rather turn out a song every few months than just an album every couple of years.  I plan on keeping the working class and specifically the ironworker theme consistent while not leaning on it too hard and beating a dead horse, so to speak.

Q: What do you hope a listener takes away after hearing “More Than Just a Job”?

A: I’d like everyone who’s getting up in the early morning with aching muscles and a mind of worries to know that they’re not alone in their struggle.  I’d also like them to know that there is a song out there telling their story, written by someone who has lived it.  And I’d like everyone in a different situation to stop and maybe spare a little appreciation and respect for the men and women keeping the gears turning for the rest of us.