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X-WR-CALNAME:Andy Grammer
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UID:272192025-08-28
DTSTART:20250828T230000Z
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DTEND:20250828T040000Z
LOCATION:31806 Lake View Drive\nSelbyville DE 19975
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 yville DE 19975;X-APPLE-RADIUS=49;X-TITLE=31806 Lake View Drive:geo:38.466
 017,-75.112054
GEO:38.466017;-75.112054
SUMMARY:Andy Grammer
CLASS:PUBLIC
DESCRIPTION:You might be surprised Andy Grammer called his new album Monste
 r. He\nwas too. Long known as one of the most optimistic bright lights in 
 the\npop singer-songwriter sphere\, Grammer found himself fighting demons\
 nand finding new corners of himself\, places he hadn’t wanted to\nventur
 e before. “Being happy\, anger is my vulnerability\,” he says.\n“I d
 idn’t know how to deal with getting in touch with anger. I\njust pretend
 ed it wasn’t there.” Grammer embarked on a long mental\nhealth journey
  that mirrored an exploratory five-year interim between\nalbums which\, of
  course\, happened to coincide with a particularly\ntumultuous five years 
 for all of us. After everything\, Monster\,\narriving October 4\, became a
  document of someone walking through a\nfire they never wanted to even loo
 k at\, and what happens when they\nemerge on the other side. In the half d
 ecade since 2019’s Naive\,\nGrammer lived a lot of life. There were hear
 t-bursting highs\, like\nwelcoming his second child\, and harrowing trials
 \, including the\nrupture of an important relationship. During the bleak p
 andemic years\,\nhe sought therapy for the first time\, and began realizin
 g there were\nall kinds emotions he was just beginning to process for the 
 first\ntime. Originally\, Grammer experimented with capturing an era dynam
 ic\nwith both struggle and growth in smaller snapshots: A host of steady\n
 singles across 2020-2023\, as well as 2022’s The Art Of Joy EP. Back\nth
 en\, Grammer planned to collect the singles alongside a few new songs\nfor
  his fifth album. Instead\, he picked up a mandolin. “Sometimes an\ninst
 rument guides the way\,” Grammer reflects. “When you find a\nunique so
 und you want to chase and sit with completely\, then the album\nas an art 
 form really starts to matter to me.” Grammer wasn’t\nintending to make
  an album built around mandolin\, but it happened. He\nwrote one song call
 ed “Bigger Man\,” the genesis and skeleton key\nto what became Monster
 . It was an uncustomary track for him: grappling\nwith anger\, but strivin
 g to remain bigger than the darker sides of\nthat emotion. Suddenly\, a ne
 w album began pouring out of Grammer. The\nfolk pedigree of the mandolin p
 roved inspiring. “There’s something\nabout Americana and the twang tha
 t felt real to me when singing about\nstruggle\,” he explains. “It was
  a color speaking to me\,” Grammer\ncontinues. “My barometer is whethe
 r I’m doing something out of\nfear or out of joy. Sometimes you reach fo
 r a paintbrush because\neveryone’s using it\, for fear of missing out. A
 s I get older I ask\nmyself why we’re reaching for a color. If it’s be
 cause it’s\nfreaking cool and you’re excited to play with it\, then go
 .” Soon\,\nGrammer had a whole batch of songs\, but he knew he had to br
 ing this\nnew sound into the studio and meld it with his anthemic pop\nsen
 sibilities. He carried his mandolin around LA\, working with various\nprod
 ucers. One partnership in particular helped shape Monster. Grammer\ntook m
 ore of a co-production role on the album\, building songs up at\nhis home 
 studio. Then he’d take these recordings to Adam Friedman\,\nwho provided
  drums\, bass\, and helped Grammer achieve the kind of\nsky-scraping singa
 longs he’s known for. The same as the music came\ntumbling out of Gramme
 r\, so too did a lot of emotional reckoning in\nthe wake of his therapy. 
 “The word ‘monster’ has some bite to\nit\,” he says of the moment 
 when he realized it had to be the\nalbum’s title. “I began to realize 
 getting in touch with my anger\nwas essential. I began to make peace with 
 it\, and the monster got less\nscary.” “There’s a relationship betwe
 en artist and listener —\nlike a close friendship\, where you get to kno
 w each other better and\nbetter\,” Grammer ventures. He knew Monster wou
 ld be his most\nvulnerable album yet. There were moments of fear. If he wa
 s the guy\nwho was always there to lift others up\, how would people react
  to him\nopening up about difficulties? Grammer\, instead\, found listener
 s\nthanking him. “When you’re singing your truth\, it will relate\,”
 \nhe says. “It was freeing\, to be honest.” Grammer struck a careful\n
 balance on Monster: He laid it all out there lyrically\, but it’s not\na
 s if Monster is uncharacteristically heavy in aesthetic. Complex\nfeelings
  were filtered through rousing instrumentals\, reflective\nballads and rej
 uvenating jams alike. Across the album\, Grammer takes\non a spectrum of h
 uman experience — the mandolin rippling alongside\nhim\, like old wisdom
  surfacing to lead him to some kind of answer.\nLike a good therapy sessio
 n\, Monster excavates life from one angle\nafter another. Lead single “I
  Do” features Grammer singing\nalongside country music duo Maddie & Tae\
 , in a song written about\nGrammer’s wife Aijia that both playfully and 
 thoughtfully depicts\nhow the couple navigates the ups and downs of long r
 elationships. “I\nsing ‘Even when I don’t love you\, I do\,’” he
  says. “Aijia\nand I have a standard of love for each other that’s big
 ger than the\nmoment. We’re both committed to something larger.” The c
 ouple\nwrote and recorded other material for the record\, including\n“Gr
 ey\,” a song that mulls over whether love will survive as we\nage\, and 
 “Unforgivable\,” an unflinching track influenced by a\nfriend’s divo
 rce. Pain and euphoria mingle freely. Grammer reclaims\nhis “nice guy”
  reputation after getting stung in “Save A Spot In\nThe Back”\; playin
 g on “nice guys finish last\,” he proclaims\n“Save a spot in the bac
 k for me.” “Magic” surges forward like\na classic indie-pop banger w
 hile reminiscing on loss and the\nunexplainable in life that\, nevertheles
 s\, give it all its vibrancy.\nThe song has an extra layer of poignance as
  the last composition\nGrammer wrote with his longtime collaborator Bram I
 nscore prior to\nInscore’s tragic death. Now 40\, Grammer’s seen his f
 air share of\nreal shit\, and the songs on Monster capture it all — the 
 ugly and\nthe beautiful sitting alongside one another\, each making no sen
 se\nwithout its counterpart. From the hurt and confusion of the album’s\
 nopening\, these songs trace Grammer’s process of re-centering himself\n
 with what really matters in life before concluding with “Friends And\nFa
 mily.” Grammer sings of all the wild turns his life has taken\, but\ndec
 ides “It all means nothing without friends and family.” It’s\na port
 rait of a man who has wrestled with parts of himself\, and found\nwhat’s
  really important. “I think people will understand the\njourney — from
  acknowledging the anger\, leaving and experiencing\nthings\, and then com
 ing home to realize you’re not able to be your\nfull self without these 
 things\,” Grammer concludes. “And when we\nall end up singing it toget
 her at the top of our lungs — that’s\nwhat makes life explosive.” Ve
 nue: Freeman Arts Pavilion.
X-ALT-DESC;FMTTYPE=text/html:You might be surprised Andy Grammer called his
  new album Monster. He was too. Long known as one of the most optimistic b
 right lights in the pop singer-songwriter sphere\, Grammer found himself f
 ighting demons and finding new corners of himself\, places he hadn’t wan
 ted to venture before. “Being happy\, anger is my vulnerability\,” he 
 says. “I didn’t know how to deal with getting in touch with anger. I j
 ust pretended it wasn’t there.” Grammer embarked on a long mental heal
 th journey that mirrored an exploratory five-year interim between albums w
 hich\, of course\, happened to coincide with a particularly tumultuous fiv
 e years for all of us. After everything\, Monster\, arriving October 4\, b
 ecame a document of someone walking through a fire they never wanted to ev
 en look at\, and what happens when they emerge on the other side. In the h
 alf decade since 2019’s Naive\, Grammer lived a lot of life. There were 
 heart-bursting highs\, like welcoming his second child\, and harrowing tri
 als\, including the rupture of an important relationship. During the bleak
  pandemic years\, he sought therapy for the first time\, and began realizi
 ng there were all kinds emotions he was just beginning to process for the 
 first time. Originally\, Grammer experimented with capturing an era dynami
 c with both struggle and growth in smaller snapshots: A host of steady sin
 gles across 2020-2023\, as well as 2022’s The Art Of Joy EP. Back then\,
  Grammer planned to collect the singles alongside a few new songs for his 
 fifth album. Instead\, he picked up a mandolin. “Sometimes an instrument
  guides the way\,” Grammer reflects. “When you find a unique sound you
  want to chase and sit with completely\, then the album as an art form rea
 lly starts to matter to me.” Grammer wasn’t intending to make an album
  built around mandolin\, but it happened. He wrote one song called “Bigg
 er Man\,” the genesis and skeleton key to what became Monster. It was an
  uncustomary track for him: grappling with anger\, but striving to remain 
 bigger than the darker sides of that emotion. Suddenly\, a new album began
  pouring out of Grammer. The folk pedigree of the mandolin proved inspirin
 g. “There’s something about Americana and the twang that felt real to 
 me when singing about struggle\,” he explains. “It was a color speakin
 g to me\,” Grammer continues. “My barometer is whether I’m doing som
 ething out of fear or out of joy. Sometimes you reach for a paintbrush bec
 ause everyone’s using it\, for fear of missing out. As I get older I ask
  myself why we’re reaching for a color. If it’s because it’s freakin
 g cool and you’re excited to play with it\, then go.” Soon\, Grammer h
 ad a whole batch of songs\, but he knew he had to bring this new sound int
 o the studio and meld it with his anthemic pop sensibilities. He carried h
 is mandolin around LA\, working with various producers. One partnership in
  particular helped shape Monster. Grammer took more of a co-production rol
 e on the album\, building songs up at his home studio. Then he’d take th
 ese recordings to Adam Friedman\, who provided drums\, bass\, and helped G
 rammer achieve the kind of sky-scraping singalongs he’s known for. The s
 ame as the music came tumbling out of Grammer\, so too did a lot of emotio
 nal reckoning in the wake of his therapy. “The word ‘monster’ has so
 me bite to it\,” he says of the moment when he realized it had to be the
  album’s title. “I began to realize getting in touch with my anger was
  essential. I began to make peace with it\, and the monster got less scary
 .” “There’s a relationship between artist and listener — like a cl
 ose friendship\, where you get to know each other better and better\,” G
 rammer ventures. He knew Monster would be his most vulnerable album yet. T
 here were moments of fear. If he was the guy who was always there to lift 
 others up\, how would people react to him opening up about difficulties? G
 rammer\, instead\, found listeners thanking him. “When you’re singing 
 your truth\, it will relate\,” he says. “It was freeing\, to be honest
 .” Grammer struck a careful balance on Monster: He laid it all out there
  lyrically\, but it’s not as if Monster is uncharacteristically heavy in
  aesthetic. Complex feelings were filtered through rousing instrumentals\,
  reflective ballads and rejuvenating jams alike. Across the album\, Gramme
 r takes on a spectrum of human experience — the mandolin rippling alongs
 ide him\, like old wisdom surfacing to lead him to some kind of answer. Li
 ke a good therapy session\, Monster excavates life from one angle after an
 other. Lead single “I Do” features Grammer singing alongside country m
 usic duo Maddie & Tae\, in a song written about Grammer’s wife Aijia tha
 t both playfully and thoughtfully depicts how the couple navigates the ups
  and downs of long relationships. “I sing ‘Even when I don’t love yo
 u\, I do\,’” he says. “Aijia and I have a standard of love for each 
 other that’s bigger than the moment. We’re both committed to something
  larger.” The couple wrote and recorded other material for the record\, 
 including “Grey\,” a song that mulls over whether love will survive as
  we age\, and “Unforgivable\,” an unflinching track influenced by a fr
 iend’s divorce. Pain and euphoria mingle freely. Grammer reclaims his 
 “nice guy” reputation after getting stung in “Save A Spot In The Bac
 k”\; playing on “nice guys finish last\,” he proclaims “Save a spo
 t in the back for me.” “Magic” surges forward like a classic indie-p
 op banger while reminiscing on loss and the unexplainable in life that\, n
 evertheless\, give it all its vibrancy. The song has an extra layer of poi
 gnance as the last composition Grammer wrote with his longtime collaborato
 r Bram Inscore prior to Inscore’s tragic death. Now 40\, Grammer’s see
 n his fair share of real shit\, and the songs on Monster capture it all 
 — the ugly and the beautiful sitting alongside one another\, each making
  no sense without its counterpart. From the hurt and confusion of the albu
 m’s opening\, these songs trace Grammer’s process of re-centering hims
 elf with what really matters in life before concluding with “Friends And
  Family.” Grammer sings of all the wild turns his life has taken\, but d
 ecides “It all means nothing without friends and family.” It’s a por
 trait of a man who has wrestled with parts of himself\, and found what’s
  really important. “I think people will understand the journey — from 
 acknowledging the anger\, leaving and experiencing things\, and then comin
 g home to realize you’re not able to be your full self without these thi
 ngs\,” Grammer concludes. “And when we all end up singing it together 
 at the top of our lungs — that’s what makes life explosive.” Venue: 
 Freeman Arts Pavilion.
DTSTAMP:20261028T051416Z
END:VEVENT
END:VCALENDAR