Fred LeBlanc - Musician Artist writer, New Orleans, LA

So we're playing a music conference in Rennes, France in about 1993 and the place is packed. The French go completely wild for Cowboy Mouth. I can feel the adreneline dripping off of me in buckets that night. For the rest of the evening its a never ending litany of reporters, record execs, well-wishers, and hangers on. All looking for a large piece of a small pie, and all at once.

In the middle of this insanity a strong unseen hand pulls me into a tiny closet where I am greeted by a small group of renegade French photographers who are obviously under the influence of various forms of European hallucinagens.

One of them hands me a small plastic red circle and tells me , "poot awn zeez clown nose!" What the hell, so I put it on and they begin shooting pictures while screaming and laughing hysterically. Ladies and gentlemen, this is my life.

I've always tried to channel the energy of frustration into something that would make me stronger as a person as well as benefit those around me, and I've been fortunate enough to have succeeded a good bit of the time.

This album is a catharsis of sorts. Some of the songs may be older but they all tell the same story, the story of an individual trying not only to find his way in the world but daring to take a shot at triumph every once in awhile and occasionally... just occasionally... hitting the bullseye.