Hello Folks. This is Chuck, encouraging you to sign up for our almost-monthly newsletter (plus the occasional free tix).

Your info will be safe with us. We are very discreet. Power to the people right on.



Hey folks,

Today is Friday. So, it's Trip In The Country day around here. More on that in a hot second.

First off, my new record "The Land that Time Forgot" (Yep Roc) was originally scheduled to be released May 15. Because of disruptions of normal living that you probably are aware of, the release date has now been pushed back to August 21.

But that's not all! Right this moment, there happens to be a mess of pre-sale bundles and other fun stuff available in our store. And we've got a UK store now too!

Is there more, Chuck? the voice inside my head asks. Funny you should ask, voice inside my head, because aside from the new record and T shirts and bundles, there's a limited edition, deluxe collector's edition of "What Makes the Monkey Dance: The Life and Music of Chuck Prophet," by Stevie Simkin with photo prints all signed by me. It's a hardcover edition with hand-sprayed page edges, housed inside a specially designed slipcase with a set of six photographic prints by Tom Erikson taken between 1988–1999. $75.00. ONE PER CUSTOMER.

And if you pre-order this collector's edition of the book TODAY, you are cordially invited to attend an exclusive invite-only event: "Chuck Prophet in Conversation with Author Stevie Simkin" Live Zoom event and Q&A Saturday, May 30th 12:00 PM PDT / 20:00 PM GMT


Sorry I hadn't checked in about this sooner. I'm keeping a real tight schedule. I've been super busy checking my e-mail and doing a lot of scrolling through my social media. [Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling...] Except when I'm drinking coffee and playing guitar in my pajamas. Or when I'm picking away at something I'm writing. And when I say "writing," I of course mean crossing out a line, adding a comma, and then printing it out again and looking at it with satisfaction. That comma was a masterstroke!

And then, and then, and then, I decide it's hopeless and pick up a book. Put it down. Pull a Roy Orbison record out of its sleeve and put it on the turntable. And before I know it I'm like, "What's for dinner?" That's a typical day here on the edge of the Castro.

I don't know what it is. I have no discipline. I've got those pandemic blues. Why should I have any discipline? I had a mess of places to go and people to see. And now that's all gone. I'm listless. Questioning my life choices.

Maybe I need a hobby. I can't get to my studio to work on my collages, so that's out. I'm thinking of taking up an expensive cigar habit. Please don't send me your TV recommendations! I used to be good for about 3 episodes of anything. That was then.

All of this is because I'm not on tour.

Meanwhile, all this lying around and listening to Roy Orbison is pretty fun it turns out, and has come in handy for my radio show. We're calling it the Trip In The Country show. It's on Gimme Country every Friday at 2pm. Gimme Country is a streaming radio station.

Sure it's Country music, but we take it places. Other countries. Places like Italy and Jamaica and Canada too! And the Americas. North America... South America... I'm enjoying doing the show. Seems like the more out there it gets, the more people dig it. And it's fun turning people on to music.

Plus, I love radio. And this one is interactive. People from all over the globe come and hang out and mouth off in the chat.

I try to think back to the great radio shows that inspired me. I'm thinking of the old Maximum Rock and Roll show, Tuesday nights on KALX. Broadcast out of Berkeley and right into my suburban bedroom. That show had a kind of freeform spirit. The hosts would announce whatever live gigs were happening in the Bay Area. They'd spin records and inject some progressive politics between tunes. They also played local punk rock records, along with the latest imports from England, Kinks rarities, rockabilly sides. I used to tape the show. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was there I first heard about the Temple Beautiful. That show was a beacon. Something to aspire to.

So come hang out at Gimme Country. Download the app. And follow me. You'll get a notification when the show is about to start. It'll go out 10 minutes before the show starts to remind you. Fair nuff? HERE'S THE LINK:

P.S.: In case it got past you, I filmed a travel show for Southwest Air and Luck Reunion. A kind of Anthony Bourdain (R.I.P.) styled show where you can ride shotgun with me and Aaron Lee Tasjan through the backstreets of San Francisco. The Luck Reunion team is brilliant. This ain't some insidious internet trash. There are real production values. I think you'll enjoy it.





Hey gang,

New single out today. Nixonland. More on that in a bit here.

First, I want to thank everyone who moseyed over to Bandcamp and bought the "Strings in the Temple" LP. Yep Roc actually got a call from Billboard later that week. They wanted the catalog numbers and niceties, as the record was in position to chart. It showed up in the charts, but what I'm really proud of is it came in at #9 in the classical charts. For real.

Meanwhile, don't be a dumb ass like me.

We were closing out our second show of the night at the Continental Club in Austin. A double header. I'd essentially been yelling and jumping around that stage for close to four hours. I was more than a little slaphappy, adrenalin flowing free.

The band was vamping on a big fat E chord, the volume was swelling. And like hundreds of times before, I spit into the mic: "Good night. Take care. And if you can take care of someone else too!" There was much clapping of hands and stomping of feet. And as the band continued its crescendo, I leaned down into the front row, sweat dripping off, and started slapping high fives and making the not so secret handshake with anybody who reached out. One. After Another. Down the line.

That was like 2AM Saturday night. March 14th. The next day I caught a clip of that exact moment on Facebook. Me smiling like an idiot, glad-handing. I hung my head. I felt a little depressed. I could see the guys behind me laughing and Charlie Sexton grinning and wringing out a few last licks on the "Stephie-caster." (Charlie was stunt doubling for Stephie who never made it to Austin. She'd been booked on a flight the previous morning out of LA, where she'd been looking after her mother who was recovering from a hip-replacement surgery. Then she decided that the last thing she wanted to do was bring home the invisible monster to her mom. Smart kid.)

Meanwhile, I was making up for everyone, right? Soaking up germs wherever I could find them. What, me worry? It's like I assured Stephie earlier on the phone when she reminded me again to wash my hands and be careful: "Honey, we're good. Charlie will be there. They wouldn't let anything happen to Charlie, would they?"

The next day the City Fathers* shut the town down. (For extra credit, from "Tombstone Blues.")

Well, I'm happy to say that after a month of quarantine, I'm feeling healthy. But honestly, I can't help but wonder what it would've been like if I'd gotten sick or been an unknowing carrier and made other people sick. I'm completely convinced the karma gods would have run that Facebook clip of me on repeat like a meme or whatever. With the caption: "Don't be an idiot. Don't be like this guy. Chuck Prophet RIP." THAT would have been my swan song.

The other day I spoke with my friend Daniel on the phone and he said, "Hey, my sister is in the New York Times. She's a nurse and she just travelled from North Carolina to New York City. She volunteered to help at Mount Sinai in Queens. Right in the thick of it." And I thought, that's crazy. Why? And then it occurred to me. People are hardwired. That's why. These caregivers are hardwired to give care and dumb asses like me are hardwired with the whole "show must go on" slogan we keep repeating like a mantra.


Why does the show have to go on? For the Gipper? Who the hell is the Gipper, anyway? Does anybody even know who the Gipper is? WHY DO WE KEEP SAYING THAT? What are we, robots?

Don't answer that.

Meanwhile, my new record "The Land that Time forgot" was originally scheduled to be released May 15. Because of complications that release date has now been pushed back to August 21. And we just keep releasing singles one by one. And luckily it's all killer/no filler so far (if I do say so myself). So, I don't hear anyone complaining.

The latest single is called "Nixonland." And it's got a cool video by Yep Roc's own Nathan Golub. The video's a triumph. The process of drawing each frame is pretty damned labor-intensive. Made all the more impressive as Nathan was able to do this while still homeschooling his kids as they climbed on and around him like a jungle gym.

"Nixonland" is actually one of three presidential songs on "The Land that Time Forgot." There's also "Paying My Respects to the Train," a song about Lincoln I wrote with Kim Richey. And you might recall we released the first single, "Get Off the Stage," a couple months ago. Another presidential song that is, shall we say, a little more contemporary.

"Nixonland"? Based on a true story. Enough said. For now.




Friday at 2pm PT / 4pm CT. Meet me in a hurry behind the barn! Join me and live chat on my radio show on the Gimme Country Network. If ya like 50s and 60s country, yodeling cowgirls, honky-tonkers, Georgia swampers, rockabilly cats and kittens, this is the place. You can listen and jump into the chat in real time here:



P.S.: In terms of tour dates, we intend to make them happen, if the powers that be say it's cool. Short of a crystal ball, we just don't know. We can't know. In the immortal words of Brandt in The Big Lebowski (you remember him, right? played by the late great Philip Seymour Hoffman): "Well Dude, we just don't know." God I wish Philip Seymour Hoffman was still around. I once stood under an awning in NYC in front of Joe's Pub and took a smoke break. I felt someone sharing the space and turned and it was Philip Seymour Hoffman. He looked at me and I looked back, like "Yep." Two dudes huddled in the rain enjoying a smoke break in silence. Who wants to watch "Moneyball" together? Let me know.

P.P.S.: klipschutz has new book of poems, "Premeditations." (Here's a review.) Pretend you're browsing the shelves of a place where you just know you'll find something mind blowing. Here, I'll do it for you:

P.P.P.S.: If you want to download the LP of the Strings in the Temple concert, it's still available over at Bandcamp. Here is the Bandcamp Link

*BTW, I just looked up "swan song" and I'm using it correctly. It's a Greek metaphor according to Jimmy Wales.


Hey folks,

Attention all you streamers, loss-leaders, grim reapers, and powdered egg beaters. We've got something to share with all of you shut-ins.



I don't know about you, but I am totally barricaded, holed up, shut in but not shut down. And make no mistake, this crisis is serious. Life and death serious. As for now, I've got all I need. I've actually got three Honeycrisp apples in the kitchen. Plus, one Fuji apple. Fujis are not my first choice but I am 100 percent prepared to eat that Fuji if the whip comes down. Although I could be hurting for paper towels here before too long. (Stephanie's out of town. Pray for me.)

As for this film. A little background:

Back in 2012, we released the Temple Beautiful LP - an open love letter to San Francisco and its history and characters. Written in my shoebox no-internet-having work space South of Market along with klipschutz. Lunches were had. Arguments were settled. (Never did we stoop to tossing a coin.)

After two years of playing the songs around the world, in late 2013 my band and I delivered the 12-song cycle at the Great American Music Hall - itself a former bordello and an art deco S.F institution - with a string octet scored and conducted by Brad Jones. Which turned out to be the first step that culminated in Strings in the Temple.

Director Darrell Flowers brought along at least four camera operators and a few more assorted pros from Dover to film it. We had one chance to get it right. And this film is a document of the twists and turns in the road that brought us to that one-night-only sold-out performance at the GAMH.

Some will have you believe that here in Start Up City, USA technology is the new culture. Then again, how can technology equal culture? (On what planet?) Where's the google bus - or better yet, the Virtual Stock Option (VSO) - for the out-of-work dishwasher who commutes in every day from Stockton? Or the people who commute three hours each way just for the privilege of cleaning our toilets? Where's the facebook live Zuckerberg Tip Jar (ZTJ) for them?

Let me ask you a question: Can songs connect people to the world? I'll take my answer off the air.

The songs performed that night touch on all kinds of San Franciscos and include characters like Willie Mays, martyred supervisor Harvey Milk, Cain & Abel porn kings Jim & Artie Mitchell, mythic oddball "Red Man," preacher/Svengali Jim Jones, politician-turned assassin Dan White, and Emperor Norton himself, with cameos by Laffing Sal, Carol Doda, Bill Graham, and Fatty Arbuckle. Locations too. Including the Castro and Mission Districts. One song channels the White Night Riots, sparked by the light sentence handed out to poster-boy-for-closet-cases Dan White for the assassination of Milk and Mayor Moscone.

Dig in. And do yourself a favor and stick around. At the 10:00 mark don't miss the image of Stephie smiling and James shrugging when Roy Loney makes a kind of sideways entrance. That's why I play music. I could watch that moment once a week forever. We miss you Roy.

P.S.: If you want to download the LP of the concert. You can do it over at Bandcamp. For the next 24 hours Bandcamp is waiving their 10% fee, so you know what that means, right? More paper towels for ol' CP.

Here is the Bandcamp Link

And if you are feeling like you want to give back. My newsletter costs money. I pay a service to deliver it. And sometimes, even though I'm on the list I don't even receive it. I don't know what the dealio is but if you want to show your appreciation feel free to roam around my online store and throw down.


-Chuck Prophet


What the critics have to say about Temple Beautiful:

"Experience the album as one man's alternative history of three decades of West Coast culture and politics." - Fresh Air

"A heroic all round smash and grab raid on rebel rock across the generations." - Classic Rock

"A dozen beautifully melodic, razor-sharp guitar-pop elegies. Mythological in scope, soulful in execution – tracking everything from the city's vaunted musical history to baseball star Willie Mays and madman/murderer Jim Jones, it's a feast of contextual songwriting and sizzling guitar. The whole lot is first rate." - Uncut

"Not since Lou Reed paid homage to the city and era that forged him with New York has there been a song cycle dedicated to a place and reality that offers the core immediacy with the thump, churn and ferocity of Chuck Prophet's Temple Beautiful" - Paste

"Above all it rocks. A hooky, memorable album." - Mojo


Obviously everything is a hot mess due to the current state of events surrounding COVID-19. We're taking all of this serious. Life and death serious. And exploring the possibility of rescheduling shows down the road. Some shows will be postponed. Some promoters have no plans to reschedule. All the regional UK dates will be postponed to Jan 2021 which we are working on now. We'll gather all that info for you including refunds and the like here in coming newsletters and on the CP web site. Please be patient. And don't hesitate to e-mail if you think we can help.

We plan to send an updated list of rescheduled/confirmed dates soon.

For now, these dates appear to be on.



5/16/2020 BIG SUR CA HIPNIC**

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Old Friends (LYRICS)

What Makes the Money Dance? (LYRICS)

Summertime Thing (LYRICS)

That’s How Much I Need Your Love (LYRICS)

Elouise (LYRICS)


Thu Mar 11 The Sunday Roadhouse Presents… Chuck Prophet
Omaha, NE
Fri Mar 12 Knuckleheads
Kansas City, MO
Sat Mar 13 Off Broadway
St. Louis, MO
Fri May 14 Het Depot
Leuven, Belgium
Sat May 15 Ekko
Utrecht , Netherlands