Stevie Hawkins - Welcome to From There To Here: The Stories Behind the Album

Welcome to "From There To Here": The Stories Behind the Album

Every album project has a story. "From There To Here" is no exception.

This articles page is dedicated to the fans, passion, creative people and process that will bring this Stevie Hawkins project to life. While the songs will tell one part of the journey, these articles will explore things happening behind the scenes—from the songwriting to the finished recordings, observations, milestones along the way, and other aspects of the project.

Throughout this series, you'll meet the talented musicians whose performances will shape the music, the producers and engineers who will help capture its sound, the mastering engineer who will give the album its final polish, and the marketing team that will work to share the project with listeners around the world

You'll also find updates on the songwriting and recording process, news about the album's release, and information about the crowdfunding campaign that will help make this independent project possible. Whether you're a longtime supporter or discovering From There To Here for the first time, these articles are intended to offer a front-row seat to the collaboration, creativity, challenges, and dedication that will transform an idea into a finished album.

Thank you for joining this journey from the very beginning. Your interest, encouragement, and support mean more than words can express. We invite you to follow along as we document each step and celebrate the people whose talents and commitment will help take From There To Here from an idea to a completed album.

(Part 1)
Edd Miller • C0-Producer

June 11, 2026

Hey everyone, I thought I'd share an update on the new album project. After about a month of my songwriting flow paused preparing for my concert at the Capitol Theatre week before last, I'm happy to say I'm finding my way back into the creative groove and moving steadily toward the finish line. The songs are continuing to come together, and I'm genuinely excited about what's emerging both lyrically and melodically. Every time I sit down to write, the universe seems to guide me to where it needs to go. There's something special happening with this record, and each new song seems to open another creative door.

As the writing has evolved, so has the vision for the album. What initially started leaning toward a blues record has grown into something much broader musically. The sounds, textures, and arrangements I’m hearing in my head have led me to a big decision: most of this album will now be recorded in Nashville. It's likely that I will record my final vocals in Atlanta, GA, as well as any necessary instrument overdubs.

One of the most important decisions in making a record is choosing the people who will help bring the songs to life. Technical skill and professional credentials certainly matter, but great records are built on something deeper—chemistry, instinct, shared vision, and the ability to serve the music. The right producer understands not only how a song should sound but also how to help uncover its full potential. Likewise, the right musicians bring more than their instruments to a session; they bring experience, feel, creativity, spontaneity, and the ability to elevate a performance in ways that can't always be written on a chart.

The most inspiring aspect about the gathering of the team for this album is the mix of talent, instinct, and musical intuition. They are players who know how to listen as much as they play, can hear where a song wants to go, and provide immediate, instinctual performances, adding embellishments that take a good track into the realm of something special. The musicians for the project are specialists in blues, blues-rock, Southern rock, and American roots music, accustomed to playing on major recording sessions and on the big stages, which is exactly what and who I want for this project: authenticity. Equally important was having a co-producer who understood that musical language and could help me shape and guide the performances, bringing an experienced ear and a shared vision that tied the entire project together.

As the songs develop, I feel certain that I've put together the right creative team for beginning the journey ahead. The level of trust, experience, and artistry that they all bring to this album will be integral in making it as great a record as I think it can be. Bit by bit, I'll be slowly lifting the veil and revealing each of the people who are a part of making this album happen—the co-producer, musicians, recording studios, engineering staff, and more.

And with that said, I'm excited to begin revealing the remarkable people who have joined me on this project.

Let's start with the first reveal.

I am sincerely delighted and honored to have an incredible co-producer on this new album project, Edd Miller. (Yes, spelled with two d's.) I first met Edd back in 2020 at a blues gig where I was playing drums and singing at the end of COVID. What started as a random meeting through music began to slowly develop into friendship and respect for each other's professional work. And right away from the first conversations we had about the project, it just felt right. We clicked on many levels, and also because we both care deeply about making great music. It was obvious to me that Edd was the creative co-production partner to go on this journey with. He boasts decades of experience, combined with a deep understanding of both the artistic and technical sides of record-making, making him particularly suited for my project as a whole.

What really stands out to me about Edd isn’t just his impressive track record—it's who he is and the energy he brings to every creative moment. He’s genuinely kind, laid-back, and always keeps the big picture in mind: serving the song. Spending time together discussing the project confirmed that we share a common vision, a commitment to excellence, and a desire to make the strongest album possible. Those qualities, combined with his musical instincts, production expertise, and genuine passion for the craft, make him an invaluable creative partner and exactly the kind of person you want helping guide a project.

Edd's impressive body of music production work can be heard on recordings by Willie Nelson, James Brown, .38 Special, Kansas, Drivin' N Cryin', William Bell, Tinsley Ellis, Phunk Junkeez, Jimmy Dawkins, Francine Reed, Randall Bramblett, Theodis Ealey, and many others. Starting his music career as a drummer and percussionist, Edd developed a conscious awareness of musicianship and presentation before his talents turned to the recording console. This foundation guided his collaborative production style, assisting vocalists and musicians in reaching their best possible work in the studio.

That mix of character, background, and skill elevated Edd to among the most respected recording engineers, producers, and mixers in the field.

Edd has also worked with and learned from some of the most influential producers and engineers in the business, such as Paul Rothschild (Janis Joplin, The Doors), Rodney Mills (Gregg Allman, Lynyrd Skynyrd), Bob Ezrin (Alice Cooper, Kiss, Pink Floyd), J.J. French of Twisted Sister, and Howard Benson (Motörhead, Kelly Clarkson). Such an upbringing developed his multi-talented approach to production and technique.

In 1993, Edd joined Ichiban Records as a staff producer and engineer, and his discography soon reflected a diversity that included blues, avant-garde rock, gospel, rhythm & blues, and classic rock & roll. Edd has brought a rare blend of musical insight, technical exactness, and years of professional experience to each project, whether producing an artist's vision, engineering a session, or creating a final mix.

In the late 1990s to the mid-2000s, Edd launched his own recording studio and established CMO Records. This move enabled him to continue expanding his work as an engineer, producer, mixer, and mentor to artists, continuing to build a body of recorded works. With his studio and record label, Edd created a nurturing environment for collaboration and artistic growth, further reinforcing his reputation as a respected figure in the recording industry and a passionate advocate for great music.

The vision for this album continues to grow clearer with every song. While there's still plenty of work ahead, the pieces are falling into place, and I'm more energized than ever about where this journey is leading.

Thank you all for your continued encouragement and support. I can't wait to share more as the project continues to take shape. Remember, "be a realer, a healer, and a peace and love dealer."

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 2)
Bart Walker • Guitar

June 17, 2026

And now for Part 2 of my Nashville album session team announcements, and I’m excited to share that Bart Walker will be joining us as a featured guitarist on the project.

I shared the stage with Bart a few years ago at the Daryle Singletary "Keepin' It Country" Jam. There were some outstanding guitarists on that stage, but Bart immediately caught my attention. His playing was soulful, confident, and effortless—the kind of guitarist who makes you stop and listen. On top of all his talent, Bart is just a great hang—laid-back, kind, and genuinely friendly. He brings a smile and a relaxed, positive energy to any room he walks into. It's no surprise that he's earned a reputation as one of the most respected and genuine musicians in Nashville.

Today, Bart tours and records with both Hank Williams Jr. and Jamey Johnson, and those are not gigs that go to just anyone. Both artists are known for surrounding themselves with musicians who bring authenticity, passion, and world-class talent to the stage every night.

What excites me most isn't his résumé. It's the way he plays. Bart has deep roots in blues and Southern rock music, and he combines technical skill with something that can't be taught—feel. Other musicians love working with Bart because he serves the song, not his ego. There's honesty in his playing; his solos tell a story, and that's exactly what I want and need on this record—honesty and storytelling. I have no room for egocentric ramblings of technical prowess that don’t serve the song.

Bart plays custom guitars built for him by Lucky Dog Guitars in Cleveland, Tennessee. If you've heard Bart's unmistakable tone on stage or in the studio, there's a good chance one of these handcrafted instruments was part of the equation. Their quality and character make them a perfect match for a player who values feel, expression, and serving the song above all else.

Many fans recognize Bart as one of Nashville's top blues-rock guitarists, but ask musicians and guitar players in the know, and you'll often hear the same thing: Bart Walker is one of Nashville's hidden gems. Over the years, his guitar has taken him around the globe, sharing stages throughout the U.S., Europe, Australia, and the U.K. with artists such as T. Graham Brown, Buddy Guy, Derek Trucks, Warren Haynes, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Robert Randolph, Delbert McClinton, Lee Roy Parnell, Steve Cropper, B.B. King, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Styx, and REO Speedwagon.

His studio credits include work with Dolly Parton, Mike Farris, Bo Bice, Royal Southern Brotherhood, A.J. Croce, Steve Gorman, Texas Hill, and many others.

Among his many accomplishments, he won the Gibson Best Guitarist Award at the International Blues Challenge in Memphis. He later released the acclaimed album Waiting on Daylight, produced by legendary producer Jim Gaines.

Bart is also passionate about giving back, mentoring guitarists from around the world through Bart's Badass Guitar School and hosting guitar camps at his farm just outside Nashville. If you'd like to learn more, visit https://www.badassguitarschool.com.

When thinking about assembling a small team of next-level musicians based in Nashville, I knew I wanted specialists in blues, blues-rock, and Southern rock—players who truly understand the feel, authenticity, and storytelling that these songs demand. I'm fortunate that two of those musicians are old friends of mine, and Bart was an easy choice for the team. I am honored to have him on board and can't wait for all of us to hear what he brings to these songs.

And yes... I'll be revealing that second guitarist soon!

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 3)
Mark "Sparky" Matejka • Guitar

June 24, 2026

Part 3 of the Stevie Hawkins Nashville album sessions: team announcements. I couldn’t be more fired up to share that “Sparky” Mark Matejka—my friend of over 20 years and guitarist for Lynyrd Skynyrd—is bringing his creative fire and guitar command to my songs. Most of us just call him Sparky. To be honest, if I called him Mark, half of his friends would probably wonder who I was talking about!

For my new album recording sessions, Mark brings a refined, modern Southern rock guitar approach, while Bart Walker comes from a deep blues and blues-rock foundation. When I started putting this team together, I knew exactly what I wanted the guitar foundation of this album to be. I wanted the authenticity of blues, blues-rock, and Southern rock, and that meant bringing in energetic musicians who specialize in those styles. Bart and Sparky aren't visiting these genres for a recording session—they've spent their careers living in them. Mark's precision, melody, and modern edge sitting right up against Bart's raw, soulful grit create a push-and-pull contrast that will give these songs a fresh energy and a sound rooted in blues-rock but pushed forward with a strong Southern rock voice running through it. There is a method to my madness, ladies and gents! Contrary to popular belief, I don't just throw darts at a wall when putting a record together—although it would probably be faster.

Sparky and I first met in early 2006 when we played together during a week-long residency at the Ameristar Casino in Kansas City, Missouri. Right away, there was a natural musical chemistry and mutual respect that made that week feel special on and off stage.

At the time, Mark was in the middle of a major transition. After a five-year run playing guitar with The Charlie Daniels Band, he was joining the legendary ranks of Lynyrd Skynyrd—walking straight into one of the most iconic guitar roles in rock.

What many people don't know is that Mark's musical path was a little different from a lot of Southern rock guitarists. Born in Houston, Texas, he learned plenty on stages, in clubs, and on the road, but he also pursued formal training at the University of North Texas. Studying under noted guitar educator Jack Peterson, he focused on jazz improvisation, music theory, and ensemble performance, earning a bachelor's degree cum laude in jazz studies in 1990.

That education gave him a deep understanding of harmony, improvisation, dynamics, and arrangement, but what has always impressed me is that you never hear the education getting in the way. Instead, it enhances everything he does. Sparky can move seamlessly from blues to country, from hard-driving Southern rock to sophisticated melodic improvisation, all while sounding completely natural. In other words, he knows enough music theory to make the rest of us nervous, but he's got too much good taste to show off about it.

As it turned out, whenever Sparky was off the road with Skynyrd, our paths kept crossing. Before long, we found ourselves sharing the stage on various weekends at The Dinner Bell in Cookeville, Tennessee—a former roadhouse-style nightclub owned by my good friend Kevin Poe. Alongside country artist Ronnie Swift and a weekly rotating cast of Nashville touring and session players, we spent many nights making music, swapping stories, solving absolutely none of the world's problems, and having a great time doing it!

Anyone who's shared a stage with Sparky knows what he brings. Beyond his playing, he has the ability to elevate everyone around him. His feel, musicality, and instincts are top-shelf, and his constant stream of ideas keeps every performance fresh. You never know exactly what he'll do next—but it always works. Whether it's the perfect fill, a blistering solo, or subtle textures that reshape a song, Sparky brings music to life. Every now and then he'll play something that makes the rest of us look over and think, "Well, I sure didn't see that coming."

This time, we're not playing someone else's music—we're bringing my songs to life. Having a player of Mark's caliber contribute his talent and musicality to these recordings is a real gift. I know what he brings to a performance, and I'm genuinely excited to hear how Sparky's guitar sits alongside Bart Walker's on these tracks. I have a feeling they're going to push each other in all the right ways, and I can't wait for all of us to hear the results. If I have anything to say about it, we're going to have a whole lot of fun getting there, too.

Back soon with Part 4 of the Stevie Hawkins “From There To Here” album sessions!

Revealed thus far are, co-producer Edd Miller, guitarist Bart Walker, and guitarist Mark "Sparky" Matejka.

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 4)
Randy Threet • Bass Guitar

July 1, 2026

Part 4 of my Nashville album session team announcements. If there’s one thing I needed for these sessions, it was a rhythm section built on players who don’t just know the language of blues, blues-rock, and Southern rock—they are the language. Joining me on bass for several tracks is my old friend Randy Threet.

Randy sits in a rare space in American music. Most people know him as an exceptional bassist, but what really sets him apart is that he also carries the vocal weight of two of the most harmony-driven bands in the genre—Blackhawk and The Outlaws. That combination—deep-pocket groove on the low end and elite tenor harmony vocals above it—is what makes him one of the most complete support musicians working today. He doesn’t just hold down the rhythm section. He helps define the sound of the entire band from the bottom up.

I’ve known Randy for 19 years, and long before these recording sessions were ever planned, I knew that if the right songs called for it, he was somebody I’d want in the room.

When I started assembling the team for this album, authenticity was everything. I wasn’t trying to “build a band” in the traditional sense—I was building a musical system. Bart Walker brings deep blues and blues-rock grounding. Mark “Sparky” Matejka brings modern Southern rock authority. Randy brings the low-end foundation and structure that ties those worlds together. Put simply, this isn’t three players occupying space—it’s three specialists working the same musical ground, where groove, melody, and harmony come from lived-in experience rather than formulas or guesswork.

Years ago, Randy and I first played together in the band of the late, great Daryle Singletary, whose hits include “Too Much Fun,” “I Let Her Lie,” and “Amen Kind of Love.” That’s where I really got to know him—not just as a musician, but as a person you want in the room every night on the road.

And if you’ve ever spent time on a tour bus, you already know: that matters just as much as the playing.

Randy also happens to have the best Billy Bob Thornton “Carl from Sling Blade” impression I’ve ever heard. Back in those Daryle Singletary days, that alone probably kept a few long drives from feeling twice as long as they were.

But none of that would matter if the musicianship wasn’t real—and Randy’s reputation is exactly why he’s been trusted for decades in two very different musical worlds.

For more than twenty years, he’s been a cornerstone of both Blackhawk and The Outlaws, bringing the versatility, consistency, and musical instincts that have made him one of Nashville’s most respected working musicians. Whether the music calls for country precision, Southern rock grit, or deep blues-influenced groove, Randy has spent his career proving he can move seamlessly between them. That’s exactly the kind of musician I wanted on this record.

On bass, he plays exactly how great Southern rock and blues bass players should play: no excess, no spotlight chasing—just time, tone, and feel. His groove is smooth, powerful, and unshakably steady. Playing with him feels like everything locks into place without effort.

And then there’s his voice.

Randy is one of the most reliable high harmony singers I’ve ever worked with. The ability to sing demanding tenor parts while locking in a bass performance at that level is rare enough. Doing it consistently for decades across two major touring bands is something else entirely. His harmonies don’t sit on top of the music—they complete it.

What I’ve always respected most is that Randy never plays for attention. Everything he does is about the song and the people he’s playing with. That mindset is exactly why he’s been able to sustain such a long career at a high level across multiple major acts.

He’s performed and recorded with artists including Trisha Yearwood, Pam Tillis, Larry Boone, Buddy Jewell, Daryle Singletary, Blackhawk, The Outlaws, and many others, and has shared stages with members of Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Marshall Tucker Band, and The Allman Brothers Band.

But credits only tell part of the story.

The real story is consistency—decades of showing up, being focused, locking in, singing the hard parts, holding down the foundation, and making everyone around him sound better while doing it.

That’s why I wanted him on this record.

Because when you combine Bart’s blues foundation, Sparky’s Southern rock edge, and Randy’s musical system of rhythm and harmony, you don’t get a stylistic experiment—you get something that was always meant to exist. Nothing is decorative. Everything has a job. And when it locks in, it feels like it was always meant to be that way.

And I can’t wait for people to hear what that sounds like when it’s all in the same room.

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 5)
The Writing of the Songs

July 8, 2026

Part 5 of the "From There To Here" album project... We've spent the last few updates getting to know the incredible musicians and co-producer who'll be helping bring this record to life. I thought we'd step away from the creative team for a moment and talk a little about the songs themselves—and the journey that's been shaping them from the very beginning.

For the past few months, I've been living in a pretty solitary songwriting world—and I expect to stay there until it naturally feels like it's time to move into the recording sessions. I'm not trying to rush the process or force songs onto the page. I've learned over the years that songs have a way of showing up when they're ready, not necessarily when it's convenient. My job is simply to be there when they arrive.

Some of you have probably noticed the phrase "From There To Here" appearing alongside this project. That's more than just an album title. It's really become the thread connecting almost everything I've been writing.

This record reaches back to childhood and follows the road all the way to where I stand today. The people who shaped me, the places I've been, the victories, the disappointments, the lessons, the music, the friendships, the love, the losses, and all the unexpected turns in between—they've all found their way into these songs in one form or another.

Writing this album has been a little like flipping through old photo albums. Every song seems to bring back another memory, another face, another chapter I hadn't thought about in years.

I suppose you could call it soul-searching. Maybe even a bit of emotional housekeeping. Whatever it is, it's been one of the most honest writing experiences I've ever had. There are a few songs that still catch me off guard. I'll be halfway through singing one and suddenly remember exactly where it came from. Every now and then I have to stop, collect myself, and start over. That's usually a pretty good sign that I'm writing about something that matters.

I've started down the road of writing more 'radio-friendly' songs a couple of times, and by design there are a few songs that step outside the album's core concept, but I keep finding myself pulled back toward something deeper.

That doesn't mean it's a heavy album.

Quite the opposite.

There's plenty of energy here, plenty of optimism, and more than a few moments where the volume knob gets turned to the right. At its heart, though, these songs are about perspective, resilience, gratitude, believing in yourself when life gives you reasons not to, and finding light even after walking through some darker places. If someone hears one of these songs and finds a little piece of their own story inside it, then I'll feel like I've done my job.

Musically, the album has surprised me, too.

When I first began planning this project, I thought I was making a traditional blues record. The blues is still very much the heartbeat of what I'm writing, but somewhere along the way the songs started asking for something bigger. What has emerged feels more like contemporary blues with a healthy dose of blues-rock and Southern rock woven into the fabric. Some songs breathe quietly, while others dig in with a little more attitude. It all feels remarkably natural—as though the record has quietly been telling me what it wanted to become all along.

As the writing starts to wind down, my thoughts are naturally beginning to shift toward the recording sessions. I've got a Nashville studio in mind that I believe would be a terrific fit for this project—a room with the sound, character, and atmosphere to capture these songs the way I hear them in my head. Nothing is set in stone just yet, and I don't want to make that final decision until the writing is complete. I want the songs to tell me exactly what they need before we roll the first take. After spending months living with these songs on paper and in my head, it'll be a pretty special moment to finally hear them come to life with this incredible group of musicians.

So that's where things stand.

Still writing. Still listening. Still discovering where these songs want to go. And enjoying every step of the journey.

Thank you all for following along and for the encouragement you've shown throughout this process. It means more than you know.

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 6)
Leaving Room for the Music to Breathe

July 16, 2026

Part 6 of the "From There To Here" album project... Although the recording sessions for my From There To Here album project are still a few months away, I've already been thinking a great deal about what I want those sessions to feel like and how best to communicate that vision to my co-producer and the musicians who will help bring it to life. I am nearing the completion of writing the songs, and as that process continues, my thoughts are naturally turning toward how these stories, emotions, and experiences will come alive in the studio.

The music and vocal melodies are taking shape. The songs are finding their voices. Now I am thinking about capturing not just the notes, but the spirit behind them.

As a vocalist, I know my vocal lane well. I understand where my voice naturally belongs, where the emotional arcs are, and where they should be to best serve each song. At the same time, I remain open to thoughtful guidance and suggestions from those with the experience and credentials to help me continue developing as a vocalist. Ultimately, I know my voice, my instincts, and the emotional connection I want to create with each song better than anyone, while still appreciating the value an experienced perspective can bring.

My approach to singing has been shaped by a significant shift in how I write and create music. I don't believe I truly found my own voice as a vocalist and songwriter until I stopped writing primarily from a commercial perspective—where vocals often needed to follow a strict, predictable, or more repetitive melodic structure. Stepping away from that mindset allowed me to focus more on interpretation, emotion, and telling the story within the lyrics.

Over the past 30 years, my approach has not been one of simply repeating a vocal melody for a verse or bridge exactly the same way every time. Instead, I approach each performance as an opportunity for interpretation—exploring what I'm feeling in the moment and what I'm hearing from the musicians around me, and allowing the emotion of the song to guide how I deliver each phrase, each word, and even the subtle character of a single vowel sound.

That said, a chorus often serves a different purpose. I'll usually keep its melody and cadence consistent when doing so strengthens the song's emotional connection and gives listeners something familiar to hold onto. For me, singing is a creative process of painting a vocal picture of the lyrics, allowing the emotion of the song to shape each phrase naturally.

Something has shaped me as a musician for decades, and it will be an important part of how I want to approach these recordings.

It's easy to believe that the best recordings come from carefully planned performances where every turn and every note is mapped out before the red recording light comes on. I've learned something different.

Most of the greatest musical moments I've ever experienced weren't planned at all. They just happened. Those are the moments I still live for as a musician and vocalist.

For years, I've been fortunate to play in bars, tour with bands, and perform at concerts, festivals, and university fraternity and sorority events, experiences that have allowed me to share the stage with remarkable musicians who helped shape the way I think about making music. I've also had the privilege of performing alongside blues and rock legends—musicians whose recordings helped define an era. Some were connected to Capricorn Records, the legendary label that introduced the Allman Brothers to the world.

What those experiences taught me goes far beyond technique. They taught me that some of the most powerful moments in music are the ones that can't be planned. They happen when musicians are listening as closely as they're playing—when one player offers an idea, another responds, and suddenly the music becomes a conversation. That is when musicians stop simply performing a song and begin creating something that exists only in that particular moment.

For a musician, there is no substitute for experiencing that kind of connection. It teaches you to trust your instincts, to leave room for discovery, and to understand that sometimes the most meaningful note is the one you didn't know you were going to play until the moment arrived.

You can actually feel it when an entire band lands in that place together. The musicians begin listening more than they're thinking. The music develops a personality of its own, wanders down an unexpected road for a time, then somehow finds its way home again. When it happens, everyone on stage knows it. More importantly, the audience knows it too. I've seen the reactions time and time again, especially among younger audiences.

But that kind of musical freedom only happens when every player is fully connected and capable of responding in the moment. Every musician has to be in sync with the others, much like the cylinders of a finely tuned engine working together to create something greater than any one part could produce alone. Each player has a role, but the real power comes from how those individual parts communicate and work together.

If one element isn't there—if one player can't hear, react, or rise to the moment—the music can't truly transform. It can't take on a new personality and follow that unexpected road. But when every musician is locked in, something special happens. The music begins to breathe, ideas are exchanged in real time, and the song can travel somewhere nobody planned for it to go.

That is one of the reasons bands like the Allman Brothers, the Grateful Dead, Gov't Mule, Widespread Panic, and so many others built such loyal followings. Their audiences weren't only drawn to the songs themselves; they were drawn to the moments that happened within those songs—the extended conversations, the unexpected turns, and the spontaneous musical passages that could never be recreated exactly the same way twice. They trusted the musicians. They trusted the moment. They left room for discovery.

That is also one of the reasons Bart, Sparky, and Randy are such a perfect fit for this project. They are not only exceptional musicians; they are a group that understands how to listen, respond in the moment, and move together as one. They trust each other's instincts, they leave room for discovery, and they have the ability to follow the music wherever it wants to go while always finding their way back home.

That's the spirit I want to bring into these recording sessions. Yes, I want the tracks to be tight. Yes, I want every song to tell its story. But at the same time I want the music to be loose and "breathe."

When listeners eventually hear my album From There To Here, I want them to hear more than songs. I want them to hear four musicians listening to one another... Taking chances... Smiling when something unexpected happens... Having fun... And enjoying the journey together.

Because sometimes the most memorable moments in music are the ones nobody saw coming.

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 7)
Pre-Production: Recording the Guide Vocals

July 22, 2026

Part 7 of the "From There To Here" album project... With the music demos almost finished and the lyrics for From There To Here nearing completion, I'm about to start hearing these songs the way they'll eventually be sung. The next step is recording my guide vocals—a stage that quietly shapes almost everything that follows.

These aren't final vocals. In many ways, they're working blueprints.

The purpose of these recordings is threefold. First, they help me learn and internalize each song before stepping into the studio. Second, they provide my co-producer a structural and emotional blueprint. Third, they give the musicians a clear roadmap as they begin developing their own parts for the master recording sessions.

These tracks become the first musical conversation between me, the co-producer, and the other musicians involved in the album. They give all of us a shared musical starting point, providing a sense of the melody, phrasing, and emotional direction while still leaving room for each player to bring their own creativity into the final recordings.

Although I've been writing and rewriting these songs for several months, these sessions are often the first time I actually sing them from beginning to end.

While writing the lyrics, I have always had a basic melody in my head for each song. The way this project has unfolded, I intentionally chose to continue writing one lyric after another instead of stopping to record guide vocals along the way.

I felt that constantly shifting between writing and recording would interrupt the creative wave that has continued to flow throughout this project. For me, it was more important to stay in that creative space and allow the songs to keep coming.

Now it's time to give those melodies a voice.

The Recording Setup:

People are often surprised to learn that I record guide vocals at home using a very simple setup. I've never believed that good recordings require the newest gear. In fact, I tend to gravitate toward older equipment because, to my ears, it simply sounds better. These ears have spent a lifetime listening not only to music, but also to the details behind it—the tones, textures, performances, and production choices that make a recording feel alive.

Looking back, I've realized I've been listening to music this way since I was about eight years old. While most people naturally connected with the song itself, I found myself wondering why a vocal sounded the way it did, how an instrument achieved a particular tone, why certain sounds were placed where they were in the mix, or why a song was arranged the way it was. I didn't know it at the time, but I was already listening like a producer and recording engineer.

I use an Avid Mbox Pro 8x8 audio interface as the digital hub for recording my vocals. Designed by Avid's Pro Tools | HD hardware team, it features professional-grade microphone preamps, 24-bit/192 kHz audio resolution, flexible I/O routing, and a dedicated hardware monitor control section. Even though it is no longer the newest piece of equipment on the market, it continues to deliver exactly what I need.

I record and edit my vocals with Avid Pro Tools 10.3.10 HD, an older version of one of the music industry's most widely used digital audio recording programs. I've been using Pro Tools for more than 20 years, and it has continually proven to be a reliable part of my recording process. Since it still does everything I need, I've never felt the need to replace it simply because a newer version exists.

Depending on the personality of the song, I'll choose from several different microphones. Each one has its own character, and sometimes changing microphones is enough to inspire a completely different vocal approach.

People sometimes ask if I have a favorite microphone. The truth is, every microphone has its own personality. Choosing one isn't about finding the "best" microphone—it's about finding the one that best serves the song.

Over the years, I've learned that there really isn't one microphone that works perfectly for every voice, instrument, or style of music. While many producers and engineers have their go-to microphones—often classic choices like the Neumann U47, U67, or U87—and those microphones have earned their legendary reputations, I've always believed the right microphone depends on the source and the song.

I learned that lesson in the 1970s while watching and working around legendary producers and recording engineers such as Bob Ezrin, Ed Sprigg, Corky Stasiak, and Jim Frank at Record Plant East Studio in New York City. What stood out to me was that they didn't limit themselves to only the most expensive or celebrated microphones. They used whatever best captured the sound they were looking for. The microphone locker at the Record Plant Studio contained about 250 microphones, everything from inexpensive to high-end Neumann, Telefunken, and AKG condensers and RCA ribbon microphones.

One example that has always stayed with me was watching engineer Ed Sprigg choose a Radio Shack Realistic Highball 2 microphone to capture Dick Wagner's guitar amp speaker cabinet during an Alice Cooper recording session produced by Bob Ezrin at Record Plant East. Seeing a top-level engineer make that choice in a major studio environment made a lasting impression on me. It reinforced the idea that the value of a microphone isn't determined by its price tag or reputation but by whether it captures the character and emotion the recording needs. I eventually bought one myself, and it remains in my microphone locker to this day because, in the right situation, it still has a character and usefulness all its own.

Seeing and hearing how they chose microphones—not based on price or reputation, but on the character they brought to a performance—was an invaluable part of my education. That approach has stayed with me ever since and continues to influence the way I make recording decisions today.

When I’ve chosen the microphone that best fits my voice for a song, the signal path itself is intentionally simple. The microphone signal passes through a tube microphone preamp imparting warmth, analog color, and harmonic richness before feeding into my Mbox Pro and then directly into Pro Tools running on my Macbook Pro laptop.

Other than using the tube microphone preamp, one thing I don't do is record using compression or EQ. I prefer to capture my vocals completely natural and unprocessed, preserving the performance exactly as it comes through the microphone. If any equalization, compression, or other processing is needed, I'll apply it later after the vocal has been recorded and committed to its own track. I prefer making those decisions during playback rather than while I'm concentrating on delivering the performance.

Interestingly enough, this is essentially the same recording chain I've used on nearly every vocal performance you've heard on my recordings over the years. Simple, familiar, and dependable.

Finding the Vocal Performance:

The goal during these sessions isn't perfection. It's exploration.

This is where the songs really begin to take on a personality. I experiment with vocal melodies, phrasing, dynamics, emotion, breathing, and even silence. I'll try different ways of approaching a line, emphasizing certain words, softening others, stretching a vowel just a little longer, or changing the way I attack a phrase.

Sometimes I'll discover that singing less actually says more. Other times, I'll find that a lyric I loved on paper needs another rewrite once I hear it performed.

These guide vocal sessions also help me discover whether a melody feels natural to sing, whether a lyric flows the way I intended, and whether the emotional arc of the song feels genuine from beginning to end.

After a guide vocal is recorded, I don't immediately move on. I'll live with it for a while—listening in the car, through headphones, or while working around the house.

Oddly enough, I often hear things differently when the music is playing in another room while I'm in the kitchen cooking. Something about the way the frequencies travel from the listening room through the kitchen area changes the perspective. It allows me to hear the relationship between the vocal, instruments, and chord changes in a different way.

Sometimes I'll notice a vocal phrase that needs a little more attention, an instrument part that may need to be adjusted, or a chord progression that could be strengthened. These are things I might not recognize while sitting directly in front of the studio monitor speakers, focused on the technical side of the recording.

Distance has a way of revealing things. Stepping away from the speakers and simply listening as a listener—not as the person who created the song—often reveals what the song truly needs.

The Importance of an Honest Performance:

That philosophy doesn't end once I step into the studio to record the master vocals, either.

While I certainly want every performance to be human and good, I'm not chasing technical perfection. In fact, I'll often leave small imperfections in a final vocal on purpose.

A note that's ever so slightly sharp or flat, an unexpected breath before an important line, or a voice that cracks just enough to reveal genuine emotion can sometimes say more than a perfectly polished take ever could.

For me, great vocals aren't measured by perfection—they're measured by how they make someone feel. I'd rather capture an honest, emotionally compelling performance than a flawless one that sounds sterile. Those little human imperfections are often what listeners connect with because they're real.

Over the years, I've come to realize that's become a defining part of my vocal sound.

"It's never been about delivering a technically perfect performance. It's about delivering an honest one."

If a vocal makes someone stop, listen, and feel something, then it's done exactly what I hoped it would do.

By the time I walk into the studio to record the master vocals, I want the songs to feel completely lived in. I want to know every lyric, every phrase, every breath, and every emotional turn. The technical side of singing should already be second nature so that all my attention can be focused on delivering the performance.

These guide vocals won't be heard outside my studio other than by the project's creative team, and that's perfectly fine. They aren't meant for release. Their job is to prepare me—and everyone else involved—to make the very best record we can.

They're where the songs begin finding their voice...and where I continue finding mine.

For me, this is another step in the journey from there...to here.

- Stevie Hawkins

(Part 8)
A Living Record — Instinct Over Perfection

July 29, 2026

Part 8 of the "From There To Here" album project... As I continue finishing the music demos and prepare to begin recording the guide vocals, I've noticed my thoughts drifting away from microphones, preamps, and recording schedules. Instead, I keep coming back to a much simpler question: What kind of record do I want From There To Here to become?

At first glance, that might not seem like an important distinction. After all, a song is a song... right?

I mean, if it were really that simple, every record would leave the same impression. We would all just need the right microphone, the right guitar, and apparently a lot less time arguing about gear.

Not exactly.

More Than Notes and Performances:

Over the years, I have come to believe that the way a record is made becomes part of what the listener ultimately hears. It is not just the notes, the lyrics, or the performances. It is the spirit in which those performances are captured.

Some records sound polished. Some records sound impressive. And then there are those rare records that simply feel alive. Those are the records that have stayed with me throughout my life. They make you feel like you are sitting in the room with the musicians. The performances breathe. The humanity feels genuine. Every song seems to have a heartbeat of its own.

Those are the records that reminded me why I fell in love with music to begin with.

That is the kind of record I want From There To Here to become. Not because it is technically perfect. Because it feels honest.

I have never believed great records are made by equipment alone. And trust me, I love gear as much as the next musician. I can spend plenty of time talking about microphones, tones, and all the little details that make recording engineers lean in and other people slowly realize they may have accidentally joined a very specific conversation.

But equipment alone has never been what makes a record special. Great records are made by gifted people, in the right environment, trusting one another enough to let the technology fade into the background and simply make music. When that happens, something special begins to take shape. It becomes more than a collection of songs. It becomes a living record.

Chasing The Moment:

Sometimes the most memorable moments in music are not planned. They are found. A subtle change in dynamics. A guitar phrase that was never expected. A drummer responding to the weight of a lyric. A bass line that suddenly finds exactly where it belongs.

Those moments cannot be scheduled, and they cannot always be recreated through endless repetition. That is the funny thing about music. The harder you try to force those moments to happen, the more they seem to hide.

They happen when musicians are listening and reacting to one another instead of simply playing their assigned parts.

Those are the moments I live for.

Controlled Abandon:

Over the years, I have also learned something important about myself as a musician. I do my best work when I am playing from instinct instead of analysis.

For my own original music, I have made one commitment to myself that I carry into every recording session: I will not record more than three drum takes.

That is not because I expect the third take to be the best take. It is because I know where my best performances come from. The first few takes are where I am most connected to the song. I am listening, reacting naturally, and allowing the music to guide me instead of trying to control every note I play.

Then something begins to change.

The fourth take is where things get dangerous. That is where I stop chasing the performance and start chasing ghosts.

I start thinking about what I am playing instead of simply playing it. I begin analyzing choices, questioning decisions, and becoming aware of the mechanics instead of the feeling. That is when the performance starts moving away from instinct. Not because we have run out of ideas, but because I do not want to lose the very thing we are trying to capture: spontaneous energy and emotion.

Maybe other musicians can stay in that creative space longer. I haven't found that to be true for me.

For me, this is what controlled abandon means. It is not playing without discipline or awareness. It is trusting the connection I have with the song, trusting the musicians around me, and allowing the moment itself to guide the performance.

The preparation is understanding the heart of the song deeply enough to allow instinct, creativity, and freedom to take over when the recording begins.

Building The Foundation:

For a project like From There To Here, preparation does not mean creating a traditional band environment where the identity of the music is developed through repeatedly working through songs together before recording.

This record begins with the foundation of the songs—the writing, arrangements, demos, and creative direction behind the music. That foundation is where much of my responsibility as the artist and producer exists, along with Edd Miller, my co-producer.

Together, our role is to establish the direction and create the foundation that allows the musicians involved to bring their best into the recording process.

The People Who Bring the Music to Life:

The musicians I chose for this project bring something that goes beyond technical ability. They have the rare ability to instinctively sense what is about to happen musically. That kind of awareness is not something that can simply be taught. It comes from a natural connection to music, strengthened through years of listening, performing, and developing a deeper understanding of what a song needs.

Deeply musical people understand where the music wants to go. They do not just play the notes. They listen, respond, and contribute to the movement of the song.

That is one of the reasons Bart Walker, Mark “Sparky” Matejka, and Randy Threet are part of this project. Beyond their exceptional musical abilities, they are simply great people. They bring a humility and openness into the room that makes collaboration natural. They are comfortable being themselves, they leave ego behind, and they bring a sense of fun that allows creativity to flow freely.

For me, that matters.

The best sessions are not only about having great musicians. Equally important is having the right people with the right energy in the room.

I want the musicians involved in this project to bring their ideas, creativity, and personalities into these songs. I do not want people simply recreating demos. I want musicians responding to the music and allowing the songs to become something greater through their individual contributions.

The goal is not for everyone to hear the exact same thing. The goal is for everyone to contribute something that helps the song become what it was meant to be. That is where the magic happens.

Lessons From Nashville:

One of the reasons I believe so strongly in this approach comes from sitting in Nashville studios, quietly watching musicians I admired do what they do. I learned far more in those rooms than I ever expected.

The master session musicians I have worked with there have taught me something important: Seasoned musicians do not need endless time to find their place in a song. They have already spent a lifetime developing their craft.

They listen.

They understand.

They contribute.

A typical Nashville tracking session is a great example of this. The musicians gather together and listen to a song demo. They discuss the arrangement, make any agreed-upon adjustments, suggest ideas, and make sure everyone understands the direction.

Then they play.

The engineer records the first take.

And many times, that first take captures something special.

That moment when everything connects—that is the magic.

If there are small adjustments needed, they make them. A band leader may ask for a correction, a "fix," or an overdub where necessary. But the goal is never to endlessly chase a performance.

Once the song has what it needs, they move forward.

There is a confidence that comes from experience. These musicians do not have to overthink every decision because their instincts have been developed through years of playing. They are not searching for the music. They are bringing the music with them.

There is also something freeing about watching musicians who trust their instincts. They do not spend 45 minutes searching for an answer that the song has already given them. They make a decision, they commit, and they play.

Recording with those musicians is inspiring. It is also a little dangerous because it reminds you how much you still have to learn. You leave the session excited, motivated, and briefly considering whether you should practice another six hours a day.

Even after all these years, I still love that moment just before the count-off. Everyone knows the song. Everyone knows why they're there. And for the next few minutes, nobody really knows exactly what's about to happen. That's still one of my favorite places in the world.

Creating The Environment:

That is the environment I want to create for From There To Here.

I am not trying to build a band in the studio. I am bringing together accomplished musicians who already know who they are and giving them the freedom to bring their own voice into these songs. The goal is not for everyone to become something different. The goal is for each musician to contribute who they already are in service of the music. That is how a collection of great musicians becomes something more.

A Living Record:

A great record is a living thing. That is what I want to achieve with From There To Here.

Not a collection of perfect performances, but a record that feels like something alive is happening every time someone presses play.

A record where musicians trusted one another.

A record where emotion was never sacrificed in pursuit of perfection.

A record that captured the moment when preparation gave way to instinct.

A living record.

- Stevie Hawkins