Daddy Bone has roamed the earth like a tumbleweed getting caught under an unsuspecting travelerâ€™s muffler and occasionally bursting into flames, devouring the car in a huge fireball at the side of the road, leaving the victim confused and stranded. It makes you think. Ouch! And that is the purpose that has driven Daddy Bone for so long. To make you think. At all odds. At all costs. Think about things that no one else has asked you to think about. Think about what is important. Think about what is trite. But think none the less.
Born in the LBC and raised in the soft white underbelly of the OC, Daddy Bone plagued folk musicians and rock stars alike, wishing only to be their equal. It started out modestly with the obligatory accordion lessons. But it spread. It spread like a wild fire... probably caused by a stray tumbleweed. It spread like a disease. It spread to places unrealized and unexpected. No performance art was safe: Choral Music, Classical Music, Musical Theatre, Blues, Bluegrass, Flamenco, all are targets of his vicious exploits. Daddy Bone can not be consoled or cajoled. There is no industry giant propelling his message of madness. There is no middle of the road. There is no compromise. There is only burned out shells of automobiles attended by confused and weary travelers stranded and helpless.