Biography
Jason Erie continues to establish himself as a folk singer in the truest sense of the word. For as long as humanity has had to forge its way through change, uncertainty, and conflict, it has had a need for a sagely voice to help make sense of it all. Erie has, undoubtedly, proven himself to be just that—first with his acclaimed 2018 EP The Art of Letting Go and now with his new LP Tiny Fires. The new record, a twelve song epic, finds Erie doing what he does best: employing his signature hyper-sensory poeticism in intimate, harrowing portraits of the common man’s oft disregarded depth and frailty. It is an album that is distinctly American in its fearless exploration of modern consumerism, isolation, and the collective struggle to reconcile the marred realities of this country we live in with the idyllic patriotism passed down to us by our forebears. With that said, Erie’s message on Tiny Fires runs far deeper than any run-of-the-mill, partisan protest record. Rather, it is an inherently unifying exposé on what it means to be human in a seemingly smoldering world and to find a home in its ashes.
As was true on his first album, Jason Erie’s own history and his courage to put his past struggles to music creates a profoundly authentic experience for his listeners. Born and raised in Bergen Country, New Jersey, Erie essentially grew up in the shadow of New York City—in an area characterized by its working class hardiness. Further, though he has always been driven by his love of family, he grew up in a broken home with a mother who suffered from alcoholism. When at last she found sobriety, she decided to open a halfway house out of their two-bedroom apartment. This experience exposed Jason to an intimate look at the full spectrum of human suffering and triumph, and it also instilled in him a deep appreciation for life and the heartache that inevitably comes with it. While still in the northeast, Erie fronted the nationally touring pop-punk band Waking Up East, but it wasn’t until he moved to Nashville in 2016 with his wife and young son that he truly found his voice.
Within only a few years in Nashville, Jason has established himself as a must know act in the renowned East Nashville Americana scene and a rising star in the Americana scene abroad. His first studio offering The Art of Letting Go garnered widespread critical acclaim and landed the #28 slot on the Roots Music Report Americana chart. The Music Mermaid said, “The thing about Erie is that he’s not just a wildly talented musician — he’s a poet, a gut-puncher, a soul-shaker, an artist so in tune with the special ways that words can be spun. Not all singer-songwriters can do this, but somehow Erie does it all.” This sentiment seems to be shared by anyone who has witnessed Jason’s live performances throughout his tours of the North and Southeast U.S.—as evidenced by his victory in the 2019 Eddie Owens Presents: Songwriter Shootout in Duluth, GA. Past winners of this competition include John Mayer, Shawn Mullins, Clay Cook, Jennifer Nettles, Tyler Childers, and Elliot Bronson.
Over the course of 12 songs, Tiny Fires takes the listener across a sonic landscape which manages to incorporate everything from intimate acoustic ballads to raucous rock anthems, all of which showcase Erie’s unmatched versatility. Ultimately, whereas producer Brett Ryan Stewart (Wirebird Productions) creates a masterful musical backdrop for the record, it is Erie’s extraordinary lyrical content and the consistency of his heart which ties the whole collection together. The record begins with the title track, an ambient exploration of the helplessness in watching the world outside burn from inside a house and a body—each in their own varying states of decay. Though the subject matter of the tune is timeless, one would be remiss to ignore the pressing global chaos that accompanied the specific time of its writing. As Erie puts it, “I wrote this song while I was in quarantine, right before I could get the vaccine. Two weeks apart from the people closest to you is hard when they are right outside the door. All I could do was watch TV, write, read, but even with all of that time in solitary, you find yourself scratching at the walls, dreaming of what awaits you outside. Even when I could muster up the courage to dream, it was hard to picture anything good. The pandemic was surging, people were dying in the streets just because of the color of their skin, the whole world found itself on fire, and here I was writing about it.”
Where the first half of Tiny Fires is brimming with raw, dystopian hopelessness, on the latter half, the listener is greeted by a coming to terms of sorts. Erie seemingly begins taking ownership of his own role as a father, son, American, and human being. Perhaps the most obvious illustration of this empowerment comes in the song “Sins of my Father”—a marching rock track that seems equal parts anthem and dirge. In it, the perspective is taken of a son grappling with the troubled history of his father and his own identity within that lineage. Certainly, the lyrics are deeply personal to Jason. “I’ve always been close to my dad and realize now that he worked really hard not to become his father. Thanks to that I get to say I hope to become more like him. Now that I am a father, this song serves as a reminder that trauma does not define who we are” On another layer, the lyrics are also undoubtedly relevant to Americans forced to question their own collective history, the sins of their forefathers. It seems to beg some very important questions. Is it okay to be proud of where we came from even when where we came from was far from perfect? Can we learn from the scars of our past and build something greater than any flawed, hand-me-down patriotism could ever encapsulate?
According to Jason Erie, the answer is resoundingly yes. It will always be a long road, paved by the blood, sweat, and tears of the most common among us, but it is one that can be traveled together. It is a struggle to be proud of, a home worth building, and a song worth singing again and again. Jason Erie has proven himself to be just the man for the job.
