Chris Nathan
Welcome to my MySpace Page!
Those were the days.Twenty plus years gone by and the road has taught and brought me to the strangest and most beautiful places.This is going to be your one-stop adventure spot for all of those years and more!From the adventures of the very first days, to the "Banned from Canada" tour, and all the highs and the lows.This site will span a unique journey no one else has lived.
Tune Time
Previously Unreleased Music
Only Available Here“Supastar” and “Tell Me”Listen and Download Here!
Video World
LIVE SHOWS
SEPT 12 •TBA
Hideaway Bay Resort
Silver Creek,NYSEPTEMBER 18 • 4:00 PM
Backwoods at Kettle Ridge
Fairport, NY
Stan and Stevie
Music has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.Growing up in Buffalo, I lived two doors down from blues pianist Stan Szelest. His wife babysat me often, but I always remember Stan. There was usually a glass of scotch sitting on top of the piano, a cigarette burning in the ashtray, and a smile on his face while he played.One day I looked out my front window and saw a Rolls Royce pull into our neighborhood. That alone caught my attention. We didn’t exactly see many Rolls Royces where I grew up.Out stepped a man wearing a long coat and a big hat.It was Stevie Ray Vaughan.Looking back at my life, I realize I was surrounded by music long before I ever stepped onto a stage. My parents were both professional musicians, and their drummer, Bill Bates, would later receive a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Buffalo Music Hall of Fame. At the time, all of it just felt… normal.It’s funny how the little moments in life end up shaping who we become.
WEDNESDAYS
Wednesday nights have always been a big part of my life.I remember my first time playing an open mic hosted by Tim Baldwin. I was only 18 years old. I stood up there and poured my heart into those flickering lights, cobwebs, and sticky checkerboard floors. If you’re from Buffalo, you know exactly the room I’m talking about.Nietzsche’s on Allen Street.A man stepped out from the shadows with a quiet, gentle presence and said to me, “That is it! That! IS what this world needs, brotha!”I smiled back and thanked him. I was still trying to process what had just happened, so I reached out and shook his hand. His hands were weathered, calloused, and strong.“Nice to meet you. I’m Papa… and you need to do more of that. I wanna jam with you!”Papa was one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met. An activist, a musician, and a mentor. The kind of person I still strive to be.For those of you who don’t know him, Papa’s real name was Emile Latimer. He spent decades touring and performing with artists including Nina Simone, Richie Havens, and Spyro Gyra.His legacy lives on.After that, a friend, Bob Z, asked me if I wanted to host an open mic with him on Wednesday nights. The tradition carried on just down the street at The Elmwood Lounge.Before long, Wednesday nights became a melting pot of songs, ideas, friendships, and community. As more college kids started connecting with my original music more than the covers, I started to realize I had something going.That’s when a couple of guys (”…who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighborhood.” Okay, sorry.) came out to see me play one night.During a break they handed me a demo CD and said, “Hey man, we’d love to have you sing in our band. We need someone soon. Think you can learn these songs?”I took the CD home that night and heard something that sounded like Weezer met Sunny Day Real Estate. It wasn’t what I had been doing at the time, but I liked it.The band’s name was Blankface. I kind of balked at the name, but thought, let’s find out if this is going to be fun.The next day they called and asked me to come audition.I headed over with a six-pack of Red Stripe and a dream.The house was tucked away in a small town in the middle of nowhere. I pulled into the long, narrow driveway, walked inside, and into a house that helped build the dream.The room was dim. Incense burning. A joint lit. The guys looked at me and said, “Let’s go.”Not knowing the lyrics completely yet, I ad-libbed almost everything, and we blew the roof off that house. I believed we had something.So I said, “Why don’t we play on Wednesday night? I think people would like it.”They called their producer at the time, who would later become my mentor, manager, producer, and lifelong friend, Terry SawchukThe room started to fill up. The air filled with cigarette smoke and the sound of beer mugs clanging. Terry and his buddy Johnny B. sat in the corner on the right side of the room.I remember being so pumped up that I counted off a song, “1, 2, 3, 4!” after the intro because I was already at warp speed.I also remember the look on Terry’s face. It said something like, “I think this kid needs a helmet.”There really wasn’t any turning back.Especially after they asked, “We’re leaving on tour in a month. Can you do it?”Maaaaan… did I quit my job faster than a Jimmy John’s delivery.That tour deserves a story all by itself…
Pictured below;
Chris, Live at Kibitz Room in Los Angeles circa 2005
The Dennis Story
There are moments in your life that don’t seem important until time. Probably just time fellow songwriter friend Jonathan Singleton wrote.When my band Woke Up in Vegas broke up in Buffalo, I had no clue what I was going to do. I really thought we had something special. Instead, I ended up working at Subway making stupid sandwiches, wondering if music had run its course.Every day this song kept coming on over and over on the speakers sitting a few feet above my head.I remember stopping for a second every time it played. I’d think, Who wrote this song!? I loved everything about it. It was the songwriter I wanted to become.It wasn’t the sound I wanted but it was the craftsmanship of an incredibly smart lyric and memorable hook.A few months later my pal Terry Sawchuk called me up.He said, “Hey man, if you move to Nashville, you’re going to become a better writer. I think you should do it like yesterday.”That was all I needed to hear.I quit Subway about as fast as I did Tops. I packed up everything I owned, and it wasn’t much. Just a guitar and a dream. I think maybe 3 pairs of pants and a few tee shirts. I could count on one hand if I was Jerry Garcia, the amount of people I knew in Nashville.Now this story skips a little bit up, I had been there for a couple years now. But not long after I met Jesse Matkosky. We spent a lot of time hanging out, blazing, playing video games, and making music. One day he said, “You should come meet my dad.”I had no idea who his dad was.And he was super nonchalant about it. He never boasted or bragged, ever. He is one of the most humble humans ever.I walked up the steps to Dennis’s studio.The first thing I saw when I looked to my right was a framed record on the wall.“You’ll Think of Me.”The exact song I’d been listening to over the sandwich line just months before.I froze. My heart might have skipped a beat. I had to compose myself.I remember thinking… How am I supposed to walk through this door?Then I looked left.Dennis was standing there smiling.We hardly talked for the first hour.We just played our asses off.At one point I sang something and Dennis kind of smirked. Jesse looked over and said, “See? I told you, Dad.”That was the beginning of years of writing together with Dennis and Ty.When I didn’t have a car, I’d literally run the seven miles to Dennis’s house. This happened quite often. We were writing nearly every day at one point.By the time I got there my legs were jello and I’d always ask; Hey man can I use your shower, it was hot out today…not knowing that’s what I was doing to get to the writing sessions he always said “sure man, towels are in the closet”Yesterday I sent Dennis a message I’d been meaning to write for a long time.Just to say thank you.He called me right back.We talked for a long time. And It’s funny how life works.The guy who wrote the song that made me stop what I was doing in a Subway ended up becoming one of the people who helped shape my songwriting and my life.I don’t think I appreciated that enough back then.I do now
Pictured below; Chris, Dennis Matkosky, Jonathan Watkins
after the MTV sessions at The Village Recorder in LA
Terry’s StoryAh, when I was a teen, I followed around so many great bands from Canada.The Tragically Hip, Barenaked Ladies, Matthew Good Band, Finger Eleven, Our Lady Peace, The Headstones, and so many more.One of my favorites, however, was Our Lady Peace. I had a pal who travelled around with me watching these guys rock.My pal and I used to sit up all night playing GTA2 and NHL video games with the stereo rocking through it all. A lot of the times, it was an OLP marathon.Being avid hockey fans, we always noticed that someone who worked on the album had the same name as a legendary NHL netminder from the 1950s/60s. His name was Terry Sawchuk.We always joked that they were so Canadian they hired an NHL goalie to work on their record.Fast forward a couple of years, and I’m in college. Studying absolutely nothing and really just walking around campus with a guitar and sharing my songs with whoever wanted to listen.Most of the listeners came from the football team. That football team was really the first few people that lifted me up when I was starting out. I ended up winning my college’s battle of the bands as a solo performer because the whole football team showed up to support me and rock out with this (at the time) lanky white boy.During that time, I was starting to play open mics and local cafes to see what could happen.That’s when I started to gain ground and build something.I recorded a few albums; one in my mom’s spare bedroom singing into a pair of headphones plugged into the mic jack on the back of her IBM computer. The other was at a friend’s house who happened to have music recording equipment and let me come over and record whenever I wanted.Those very recordings got handed off to a few kats who saw me play a show at The Elmwood Lounge in Buffalo, NY. Those kats eventually ended up bringing me on board to be their lead singer and start a career as a touring musician.That’s when I met Terry Sawchuk.The guy whose name I saw in the first two Our Lady Peace album credits and joked about. He was standing right in front of me on an all-too-common snowy December night in Buffalo.There he was, ready to hear this new singer for a band he’s been working with. He sat down at a table to my right after a brief hello and said “I’m excited to see the show.” At the time, I don’t think he knew what those words meant to me, because he has yet to know my past and my love for OLP.The energy ripped through that venue, and sweaty and exhausted from giving my all, I walked up to his table at the end of the night and said “let’s fucking go, Terry!”He told me he needed a helmet for that performance.That was exactly what I’d hope to hear.So shortly after that performance, the band needed to bring me up to Canada to record with him at Silverbirch Studios in Queens Quay just outside of Toronto.I was kind of in a bit of awe but also poised because I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.There I was for the very first time; standing in a real studio booth with a real studio microphone in front of me.Terry would hit the talkback and direct me with gentle guidance on how I should approach singing in the studio.I was learning in real time, and I was adapting on the fly. That was when he knew what I didn’t know yet. When he hit that talkback button to direct me again, I don’t think he knew it, but he didn’t take his finger off of it and mentioned to my bandmates that I adapt extremely well.That phrase still echoes in my head today.So now we’re in the thick of it.There’s no turning back.We make the album and Woke Up in Vegas set sail to tour across Canada.We were actually doing it!Terry has always been the catalyst of my career.
Inviting me up to his house in Mississauga,ON to write, record, and develop a kid who he believed in.I remember all of the lessons he taught me along the way. Even when we were driving between two traffic lights on the way to a small pub to have some food. I learned lessons from him. He has always been insightful to me.One tough lesson I learned was not showing up to a rehearsal one night. I had worked late and didn’t call to let the guys know I wouldn’t be on time. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. And I certainly wasn’t thinking about the fact that he drove 2 hours into another country and was putting a lot of money into a little band from Buffalo because he believed in us.I remember calling them from the phone in the back room of the grocery store; probably fifteen minutes after I was supposed to be there.Jimmy, our guitarist, answered the phone and said something like “uhhhh, dude… Terry left and he’s not happy with you.”He really wasn’t.I remember asking the guys if he had a cell phone, and he did.I called his number so fast it may have been the fastest number ever dialed.That conversation didn’t feel so great, and I deserved it. He turned around his old Mercedes and, for some reason, came back to the house to work with me and the guys.I really didn’t deserve that second chance, but he gave it to me anyway.After a couple of years of tours with WUiV, the band ended up splitting up, and I was left at a crossroads.Give up or keep going?It was easy to figure that one out.That was when Terry told me he’s moving to Nashville. When I heard those words, I kinda had that lump in my throat like that “well, what am I gonna do without you” feeling.So yeah, I moved there too.Then he briefly moved to Seattle after I moved to Nashville. Wait what!? You just told me I should move here!?That was another lesson.This particular lesson was the “hey kid, you can do it all by yourself”.We stayed in touch during his stay in Seattle and ended up writing the first idea for “Words.”
He was on his Nokia flip phone, and I was on a Nokia Sidekick (for any kids reading this, those phones kicked ass).I remember he told me he lived near a mountain and there were bald eagles flying over him while he wrote with me. I could hear wind chimes jangling in the background. From my tiny Nashville apartment it just seemed like a majestic spot to write.When he came back to Nashville. He came back to me being signed to a publishing deal with three people who are near and dear friends to me to this day.I had momentum.There was a buzz.Speaking of buzz that’s another lesson he taught me.Early twenties. Just moved to Nashville. Starting to get noticed. I kinda got out of hand with my alcohol consumption.I invited Terry out to see me play this venue named Past Perfect. I started to build up a strong following of college kids and music lovers.I’m feeling myself that night.The drinks were flowing.As I’m belting out my notes I noticed a couple who was there to see me who had previously worked with India Arie. During a quieter part of my performance I hear the murmur of someone saying “man this guy is really awesome, I just wish he wasn’t so drunk”Thinking about it today I was pretty drunk. Pretty foolish. And while I don’t recall the words that I said, I remember slurring them.Terry sat down with me after that show with my publishers. He said(and I’ll never forget the timbre of how he said it) he said, “give me one reason why I should even continue working with you, Chris.”My friends Skip and Rhonda who will also get a story of their own; vehemently agreed.I was a wreck. So I slept it off. I emailed everyone involved a long statement apologizing and vowing to stay away from alcohol.I would change my ways.Somehow I received a second chance that I didn’t deserve.Terry and my publishing friends stayed by my side.Somehow.Terry and I went into the studio to make the album “Words”. He introduced me into a world where I’m working with world class caliber musicians like Shannon Forrest and Ilya Toshinsky.Hell, we even recorded it at Michael McDonald’s house!Side note; a Doobie Brother did not want me smoking doobies near his house. That was too funny to me. I made sure I walked deep into the woods to partake.Through the years of touring I’d call him up and ask for advice. Many times just to catch up with an old friend. But all in all it was to call him for guidance.At the time he didn’t know it but he was my mentor and still is. He was the guiding light that I needed during that period of my life. See, we don’t even see each other much anymore, but we always stay in touch. I guess in a way he taught me that relationships are one of the most important parts of our life’s journey.Watching my pal Terry go on to write a hit song that changed his life brought nothing but joy to my life. I now know I have a few in me that can change mine.These days Terry wrote a book named $old 4 a $ong. That book helped bring forth these memories and lead me into writing my own story.A valuable one that no one else can live but you.