A dude named Steve Poltz (me) in East Nashville wakes up one morning and gets a call from another dude in East Nashville named Dex Green. Dex says, Hey man, you live so close. You oughta come over and make some music. Maybe we'll document it who knows, maybe it's a record. Capturing me in a studio is like convincing a whirling dervish to stop spinning long enough to sign a bill into law. It's chaos, caffeine, and accidental poetry art colliding with microphones and commerce in a glorious mess. That's how JoyRide happened. No seatbelts, no helmets. Just unsaturated, unadulterated art. Real humans making real noise in real time. JoyRide is my 14th solo album (not counting the Rugburns records, live things, and bootlegs floating around). I tour nonstop, so I usually have to be tricked into a studio under the guise of just one song. The record opens with If It Bleeds It Leads my kinda classic mischief: I can never watch the news with you because you yell back you scream like they can hear you in the television set. Then comes Petrichor, inspired by the beautiful smell after it rains. (I later discovered Phish has one too, but mine's the barefoot cousin at brunch.) At It Again follows, a cosmic co-write with my brother-from-another-meerkat Jim Lauderdale, featuring Bryan Owings and Chris Donohue (Emmylou Harris's rhythm section). The title track JoyRide feels like a warm hug after a long road trip: Free hugs, no shrugs, wrong drugs, bedbugs. Smiles, laughter, for here ever after.