Kenny Eng is doing his own thing. He is a strictly independent artist who is practically impossible to categorize. He has two critically acclaimed EPs added to his already impressive resume with another full-length album on the way.
Kenny Eng’s independent release of his debut EP “Self Centered” showcases a collection of self-penned songs that are intelligent, challenging and mature both musically and lyrically, and the complexity of these songs made Kenny an immediate standout in the singer/songwriter community.
In early 2010, he released “Live From Lestat’s”, a compilation of two shows from Lestat’s West in San Diego, CA. This release showcased his impressive development as a solo-performer and features five new songs from his upcoming full-length album.
What makes Kenny different from so many other artists is the fact that his sound is so hard to categorize. He is equal parts Motown R&B, classic rock, and Jeff Buckley, but not really any of them at the same time. It would be difficult to determine what Kenny will do next, but he can be counted on to make it worth your while to pay attention.
Thanks Kenny for allowing this chat. I have enjoyed your music since I saw you when you shared a stage with Brenda Xu a while back. It’s great to have the chance to brag on you a bit. I spent a lot of time researching in preparation of this interview. I wasn’t surprised to find how open and generous you are as a person and as a performer.
How about giving us a little of your life’s journey?
I grew up in Northern California in a small city next to Oakland, called Alameda, with my parents, and my younger sister. It was a great place to grow up. It is very sheltered in a couple of ways. There are mostly upper-middle class folks, and retirees, living there so it was safe at night. It was also really easy to cause trouble, because no one was interested in chasing you around.
When I was younger, my mom insisted that I learn how to play the piano. She was musical herself, and while I’m sure she wanted me to expand my cultural horizons, I also think she was motivated partly by wanting to make sure the piano we had saw some use. I played mostly classical music, but it soon became clear that I was more interested in popular music. Unfortunately, playing popular music on the piano was not as compelling as you would think. So I wound up playing popular Broadway songs, and soft-rock hits from the 70’s, which were equally non-compelling in my opinion. But my mom liked hearing songs she recognized, and perhaps that’s where the desire to perform was born.
In my junior year in high school, a good friend of mine, Peter, started this creative arts club, or something like that. I can’t really remember what exactly it was, come to think of it, but he was an eccentric guy. Peter and his core group of bohemians would put on creative arts shows. I always thought that was so cool so I struck up a friendship with him through an ex-girlfriend, and he sort of inspired the creative drive in me. I also got into transcendentalist writing through my English teacher at the time. I think the combination of those two things really allowed me to explore the limits of my creativity later on.
By that point, I had decided to move from the piano to the guitar, which also inspired a shift in the type of music I was listening to and was interested in playing. I didn’t take formal lessons then, which I still count as a great achievement. I suddenly understood the appeal of being able to move into that transcendentalist mindset, of a connection with something larger than yourself.
Fast-forward a few years to college; I went to UC Davis and originally studied political science, but I didn’t know what else to do with my free time. I was still playing guitar and even started attempting to sing along with musicians I idolized. I realized sometime before I entered my sophomore year that I wanted to try studying music theory. I was already aware of the basic stuff- keys, how to make triad chords, and a reasonable ability to read music. So I dove in and wound up a few years later with degrees in Political Science, and Music Theory, and Composition.
My college years were a personally trying time for me, but creatively fertile. I absorbed a lot of information from my classes and my friends. Once I left college, I set upon the inevitable task of sifting through all of that stuff I picked up in college. And that task finds me here now; still sifting through stuff I continue to pick up from the people around me, while trying to make sense of it all. Obviously, a lot has happened since, but I think that gives enough backstory for now.
In one of your blog entries was an engaging story about you out running, listening , and singing along to a Led Zeppelin song. You had misunderstood the lyrics and sang the line as your heard it, not as it was, that line being the impetus for a new song. What other things spur you to write?
I mishear lyrics a lot. I’m a very proud person and I don’t like to look up lyrics because a) I’m lazy and b) I feel like hearing the lyrics, as they are, is a great way to create your own story out of the song. Conversely, it also sparks a lot of arguments with your friends about what the lyrics really are in practically every Credence Clearwater Revival song ever written.
Like the example you mentioned, I thought I heard this lyric, and just connected with it. I’m not sure if it was the melody, or the rhythm of the phrase, or what - but I just had to copy it. I had to have something like that moment in a song, because I loved what it did to me.
It’s that kind of stuff that inspires me to write lyrics. Music, on the other hand is an entirely different story, though somewhat related. Like I mentioned earlier, I was a music snob in college (and to an extent, I still am, but at least now, I embrace my pop side). So I really played up the intellectual aspect of composing music. I saw these three to four chord songs by popular artists and thought to myself, “BORING.” But being dead-set on that path was a lot harder than I had anticipated. What ended up happening, most of the time, was I’d play something on the guitar, and miss a chord, or a note, and would play some new chord, which stuck with me. I would end up building around it.
I guess what I’m saying is that I screw things up, and then make songs out of the screw-ups.
The blog looked at the truth of being inspired by other artists. ‘The bad artist copies and the great artist steals.’ I quote attributed to Pablo Picasso. You wrote of your thoughts on this – could you expand on it a bit?
So, to me, it’s all about creativity and intention. And I’m going to frame this only reference to pop music, because that’s what I think I know most about.
As a songwriter, performer, and simply a person who tries to be creative, I’ve discovered that there is a huge discrepancy between what people see as creative and originality. Originality in music is very difficult to come by, mostly because when you’re operating in the realm of tonal popular music, you will probably find that there is no chord progression, or melody, or rhythm that hasn’t already been used. Like I say in my blog, tonal music has been around for a really long time. Maybe not a thousand years… but relatively close. Relative originality is not impossible, but it comes with innovation, and reframing, not out of sheer originality. Therefore, there must be some connection to other artists, conscious or not.
Creativity is what truly sets a musician artist apart from their peers - in today’s world. In regards to the Picasso quote (although, I don’t know if anyone can prove it was Picasso’s), the simplest way I can describe it is to take two groups of artists who have the exact same musical tastes. For example – say they all love Stevie Wonder. The ‘bad artist’ will hear a song like “I Wish” and say, “I love this song. I love what it does, what it does for me, and I’m going to copy all of its moves.” The ‘great artist’ will hear a song like “I Wish” and say, “I love this song. I love what it does, what it does for me, and I’m going to take that idea and make something for myself like that.” So the ‘great artist’ is also procuring the idea, with the intent to use it, but uses himself as a lens, whereas the ‘bad artist’ will just be a facsimile.
Another way to see it is to realize that both artists will take the idea of the song and use it. But the ‘good artist’ is capable of expounding on that idea and manipulating it to a point where it’s much harder to recognize, and in itself has become a new idea. The ‘bad artist’ is typically incapable of that. And now that I think of it, that actually makes more sense, and is way more succinct. I’m just too lazy to go back and delete the rest of what I already wrote.
You own a certain integrity about your craft – you had written that a songwriter/performer must consistently innovate and experiment. Did I get that right? Isn’t being a songwriter/performer about finding your ‘voice’ and developing that?
I think I would classify it more as a personal mission to uphold the integrity of the craft, which I think has been lost on most people. And yes, and no, to your other two questions about innovation and finding a voice. Yes, it’s important to find your voice and everyone, songwriter or not, needs to do it. But to pigeonhole yourself for the rest of your life, and to become stagnant, is contrary to what a musician is at the core, that being a person who uses music to understand themselves, and the world around them, and then push those boundaries.
It’s the Picasso thing all over again. Again, the ‘bad artist’ will be content once they find their voice, but the ‘great artist’ will discover their voice, and build on it and experiment. Bob Dylan is a classic example. He had a developed a strong voice as an acoustic-folk performer, but he got bored with that and went electric. Wait, you guys at SanDiegoAcoustic.com are ok with that, right? Ok maybe the Dylan example isn’t a good one. Besides, the guy literally had, like, 10 different voices!
Wouldn’t there be a cost to constantly re-inventing yourself as a performer?
The obvious answer to me is, yes it is costly in the short-term, but in the long-term, I think I’ll be happier. Will it alienate people? Probably. Will it mean that I’d have to start from scratch every so often? Yep. Would it mean that I’d have to change my wardrobe every couple of years? I hope so.
It would be really easy to find something that works and return to that well often. But what happens to that well if it dries up? Or someone thirstier than you are starts drinking from that well? Or what if the water gets poisoned, because someone is trying to sabotage you and threw a dead body down the well so that you get sick and die? These are the questions that keep me up at night. Well, not really, because I haven’t drilled a well I’m happy with yet.
Actually, I think my approach to being a performer is somewhat unique, in that I’ve tried to embrace the idea of playing many different styles of music in my sets. As many as possible, actually. And I like doing that. So in a sense that’s my well.
How would you define ‘progress’ in a songwriter or a songwriter/performer?
Wow, an easy question! Thank goodness!
I’d have to say that progress is ending up someplace different than you were when you started. I know that sounds a bit literal, but my opinion is - if you’ve committed to something, worked at it, and then come out of it with something new that you’re proud of, that’s progress.
As a songwriter/performer, I think the principle is the same. Some people may define it in a quantifiable way, measuring their success by how many friends on Facebook they had, compared to the previous month, or how many units they’ve sold. I’m not as moved by that as I am in creating something new that I believe in. But I think that depends on the person more than anything else.
You made a distinction between playing in a band (to entertain) and playing solo (as a persona; exploration) can you tell us something of that for you?
Did I say that?
Well, if I did say that (and that sounds like something I might say), I hope the quote made sense contextually. While I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive, I think bands are generally more entertaining than solo artists. There’s more to watch, more to listen to, and more personalities to observe on stage. You can have a foil like Bruce Springsteen and Clarence Clemons and build a show around it.
Playing solo is a freer experience for a performer in that you really only have to worry about one person. You can start and stop performances whenever you’d like, and you can have complete control of the stage, in terms of the vibe and personality. My good friend Rob Deez is a hilarious solo performer precisely for these reasons. But I don’t think he will perform with a band anytime soon, because it takes away his freedom to improvise.
Is there a difference in the audiences that likes you with a band, and those who will come see you play solo?
There is absolutely a difference between the audiences. The solo audiences tend to like coffee more, and the band audiences tend to like beer more. Seriously!
But really, I need to say that I’m really lucky to have the audience that I do have, because they are open to my experimentations with my music. So it’s a surprise sometimes, with what I’m doing, and where I’m going, but my audience is ok with that. That’s what they came for.
It is evident in your work that you take your craft very seriously – give us an idea how one of your songs comes into creation? Maybe a little workshop on ‘Call Me When You Get There.”
Well, this will be an easy one too, because I didn’t write the majority of “Call You When I Get There”. I was in a band called MOVE in college, with a couple of guys, and the bandleader Ruben Quinones wrote the song. We never played a single show, which was a shame. My contribution to the song was mostly in arrangement and reworking bits of the melody. So my process for that song was really easy.
For songs that I’ve written completely on my own (which is every other song on my EP’s), the process is excruciating. It takes months to finish one, and most of the time it’s sheer luck that I come up with something interesting!
I usually start with the music first, and come up with something I really like for a chorus, or verse. Then I’ll try and find a melody for it by singing nonsense words. Think of a baby trying to scat. Actually, don’t because that’s weird. Then once I have a good sense of what the song is doing musically, I’ll try and figure out what I want to say lyrically, and what I want the song to be about. The other pieces of the song grow out of a necessity to do something different, but somehow related. Though sometimes, the guys in my band will wonder why I went, and messed a cool groove up by doing something completely different. I’m still working on that bit…
Finally, after a few months, a bunch of revisions, a couple of crying spells, and perhaps even an open mic, or two to try the song out, the song is done, and likely to never see the light of day again! Except for the good ones.
Do lyrics come easy to you?
Sometimes. It depends on what I’m writing about and how much I have to say. It could take months to find the right ending to a line. In the case of love songs, it’s really difficult, because I don’t want to write a bad first love song, and I have a lot to say about love. I have to make sure everything is phrased and worded perfectly. But on a song like “The Angels,” those lyrics just flowed out and were done in an evening. That hasn’t happened in a while, but that makes it more special.
I was taken by your story of meeting BB King and having it be the moment you felt validated as a musician. Could you expand on that?
Just to clarify, I didn’t actually have an audience with BB King. I just saw his show at SDSU a few years ago and as he was leaving the show, I sort of yelled out, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for music” and he turned around and said “thank you” back to me. It was kind of like being blessed by the Pope. Without BB, we would have a very, very different form of American music. So to know that at one point this man acknowledged my presence, I really felt like I had some kind of divine power momentarily.
I’m very easily star-struck (read: a creepy stalker kid). But it’s not about celebrity status or anything like that. I’m more in awe of people who have achieved what I want to do and I revere them for it. In the case with someone like Jason Mraz, I can’t say that we are close friends, but I run into him on occasion, and even though we play each other in ‘Words with Friends’, I still have a hard time talking to him like a normal person. I mean, “The Remedy” was literally one of the first songs I ever learned how to play on the guitar!
You seem to have a confidence on stage that actually has the audience relax. How was Kenny Eng before and the Kenny Eng after that validating moment?
Really? Because internally I’m a complete wreck, and I’m not being modest about it. My friend Lou, who does sound at Lestat’s, used to tell me, when I was first starting around the scene, that it takes 100 shows to finally start having good shows. Initially, I didn’t believe him, but after the hit, or miss, shows that I’ve done in the past, it definitely made sense. Sometimes I wonder if people think I’m either a complete spaz or dreadfully boring on stage. I’d like to find a very consistent middle ground between those two. Maybe even a little more on the spazzy side, but hopefully still as disarming.
Have I had my validating moment yet? I’d like to think that I have. I’m usually more comfortable and confident, on-stage now than I was three years ago. But I’m nowhere near how I want to be on-stage yet. It will come in time like everything else, I’m sure, but it’s the waiting between those gigs that kills me. Is there ever a validating moment on-stage for me during shows? Most often, I can tell if I’m going to have a good show by the end of the first chorus of the first song. Everything has to feel really good, or else, I may just collapse into my head, and sabotage myself. But thankfully, what I’ve learned to do is to fight the urge to let myself be defeated and bring shows around, even if I know everything isn’t perfect.
On second thought, maybe what makes the audience relax is the device I installed in my guitar that emits an ultra-sonic frequency that subdues the anxiety synapses in your brain.
You still suffer some stage fright, common to even the most seasoned performers – what do you say to yourself, and do to get it together before a performance?
Funny you should mention that, because I just wrote a blog post about my pre-gig pep talk (shameful plug). I wrote this whole speech to myself that I wanted myself to read aloud, to myself, before every show. It’s all in the blog post if people are really interested. Most of the concepts are ideas that I’ve taken from having around Bushwalla and Dawn Mitschele (whose band I play lead guitar in) and their ideas about the self, and being present and being love, and all that.
If you haven’t noticed, I’m an aggregator. I collect lots of ideas and keep them. Like a mental pack rat for life tips.
You speak often of ‘growth’ in being an artist as important – is there an end result, a goal to achieve? Would you recognize it when you got there?
I think this is the third question I’ve answered “well, yes and no”. There is always a goal to achieve and hopefully every artist achieves all of them! But I think most artists will discover that goals, even tangible ones, are often in a state of change. So could you know when you’ve accomplished a goal if they keep changing? It’s more likely that once you’ve accomplished that goal, you will have already moved on to something else.
There really shouldn’t be any end to growing, because once you stop growing you lose what is essential to your intellectual evolution. As an artist, that’s not something you should lose sight of.
I listened to your music on your sites – delightful! ‘Mechanical Man’ a jazzy number- easy on the ear, great clean vocal performance. ‘Who Says?’ I loved this one – introspective and revealing. Tell us about this song?
Thank you! Unfortunately, I don’t play “Who Says” live much anymore. It was a part of a phase in my songwriting where I was experimenting with the speed of my writing, and putting something down as quickly as I could, without sacrificing too much integrity. So I played that initial chord, and kind of fumbled around for a melody, and slowly the song began to take shape. It all happened in the span of three or four days, which for me is like an instant, as far as song writing goes. It’s kind of a love letter to transcendentalist philosophy, and what I connected with in Thoreau’s writing, particularly “Walden”. I feel very connected to the idea of desiring beyond myself and trying to relate to people who feel like they are searching for something, but have no idea what for. I think most people are like that, which is why I felt so strongly about writing that song.
‘Nervous Kid’ again seemingly introspective, I’m sure a piece the audience falls into. Very cool Modal tuning. Is this a bit autobiographical?
Absolutely! I don’t think I could write a song that didn’t have a bit of it that was inspired by real life. But it varies for each song. “Nervous Kid” is a little more autobiographical than most of my songs and the most personal in terms of the location of where I wrote it. It’s fun for me to reminisce about my songs, because each experience for me was a spiritual one. I remember writing it while sitting on my childhood bed, after coming home on break from school. To me, the song about being unsure if I’ve grown up yet.
I think if there are song themes that permeate my music, they would be desire, disappointment, and insecurity, which all stem from true life. Some of my favorite songs are extremely autobiographical. Tony Lucca (an LA singer/songwriter) wrote a song that was basically his life story, in three and a half minutes, and the song hits me hard every time I hear it.
I think one of the cleverest things a songwriter can do is to hint at reality, but leave enough of the story for the audience to fill in the rest - so they can relate. That being said, I have a huge respect for songwriters who write purely out of their imaginations. I’d love to be able to craft a world and succinctly describe it in three and a half minutes, but I just haven’t gotten there in my writing abilities yet.
‘The Angels’ worked well, for me, as a solo and in the laid back minimalist band version. Tell us about how this one came into being?
‘The Angels’ was one of the easiest songs to write, and I’ve been searching for that experience ever since. The verses and chorus came out in the span of about an hour, and the bridge kind of came into being a few days later. But the idea itself was brought about as I was driving into LA for a show. It was probably the third, or fourth show, in the span of a few months that I had done in LA, and I was beginning to understand why people became so jaded (on both sides of the microphone) there. As I was daydreaming, I had this thought of artists and musicians personified as spirits floating around aimlessly, searching for a way to keep themselves in the spotlight, and I thought to myself, “good thing my windows are rolled up, or else they might infect me, too.” That’s pretty much where the first line from the song came from.
As far as the band arrangement, I’ve almost always written for a band. I only play acoustic, because I don’t have the resources to go out every night with a band. I’ve heard from a bunch of people that they can tell that my songs are meant to be performed with a band.
In the case of “The Angels”, when I finally thought it was time to put the songs together with a rhythm section, I felt like the song needed to be a ballad. Every big concert I’ve been to had those special moments where a slow song starts off pensive, and the drums, and bass, kick in and the whole stage lights up. That’s how I view this song. It kind of lent itself to big moments, without too much effort, and it’s definitely a song that I love playing with a band, especially since I decided to throw a guitar solo in there for myself, to add a new element to it. Some of my favorite band moments in my own shows have happened during that song.
There is a kindness and accessibility in your work, lyrics that touch every audience member – good that – to me you reveal yourself in your performance and in the lyrics. There isn’t much separate-ness between the words and the singer – do you recognize that? Is it something you work at?
Thank you! Like I mentioned earlier, there’s an aspect of true life in all of my songs, and I work really hard to be brutally honest in everything I do. It’s not something that I have taught myself, but I’m thankful that it turns out that way. Plus, my audience is too smart for that (smarter than I am) and really picks up on any disingenuousness about my performance, or music. That scares me, because it would probably steer them away from the music, and more towards the spectacle of a performance. The only other option for me is to be uncomfortably honest. Like I said, I write very personal songs that can often be misconstrued for fact, which tends to get me into trouble. But in a culture that sort of runs on contrivances, I think there has to be a counterbalance, or we’ll run the risk of forgetting who we are as a people.
I would say “Cerebral’ would describe you as a songwriter and as a performer. Your intelligence shows through in the clean and clear lyrics. When you ‘reveal’ your work in a performance is it cathartic for you?
As for the intelligence piece, my initial goal when I started to write and perform was to inject some intelligence, and complexity, back into popular music. Maybe it was a naive endeavor, or foolhardy, but there are definitely principles that I want to stay true to. I think I was really influenced by Paul Simon, in terms of the approach he took to writing songs. I remember watching a clip from the Dick Cavett show where Paul was work-shopping “Still Crazy After All These Years” and was explaining to Dick that he was in the process of writing a song that had every note in the diatonic scale in the melody. I mean, that’s got to take some major skill as to not only pursue that goal, but also to realize it. And then I read another interview with Paul Simon, where the interviewer says that every word has to mean something, and that there’s no filler in a Paul Simon song. To write with that kind of vision isn’t just a matter of talent, but with fully formed intention, and just like most everything else, it’s a place that I hope to get to someday. But I won’t get there without being intentional about it.
After spending ages working on songs, dissecting them, and reassembling them, you’d imagine that finally having something to perform would be a wonderful and cathartic experience. But for me it’s one of the most nerve-wracking moments of the song’s life. It’s the real moment of truth where I get to see what I’ve really got. Even after a few days of memorization, and rehearsal, songs always feel different once you start playing them for an audience. So in that sense, the song is never done. That being said, eventually I’ll find a place where I’m comfortable with a song. After having played it so many times, and when I can revisit where the song came from emotionally, instead of worrying if I’ll forget a lyric, or if I’ll miss a chord or something. Then, it can become an emotional release. That’s when performing songs is the most fun for me.
What are you looking to achieve as a songwriter/performer?
Well, that’s a multifaceted question. I think, first, and foremost, my ultimate goal is, and always has been, to understand myself, and to push myself to be more than what I am. I’m looking for some kind of clarity, or lens, that is unique to me, but is relatable and understandable to everyone else. I’d also like to be a successful musician in the sense that I’d be able to support myself completely just by playing music, and doing what I love. Finally, I’d like to be a songwriter that writes songs that mean something to people. I don’t think I’ve ever put that stuff into writing and its sure looking daunting - now that I see it. But hopefully that desire will motivate me to continue as I have.
Is there a produced album in the near future?
Yes, there is! I’ve been writing songs since my last album “Live from Lestat’s” came out in early 2010. I’ve been performing with my band and those will probably go on the next album. I’m really excited about this album, because, unlike the last two albums, it gives me the opportunity to showcase a whole new side of what I envision my music being.
That being said, I’m not rushing anything. I’m going to sit on it, and keep re-working songs, arrangements, and tones until it becomes something that I can get excited to talk about. I was going to start recording the album earlier this year, but complications arose, and needed to be addressed, before I could move forward in that process. Fortunately, that gave me more time to finish songs and to start working on them with my band, so as to have a better sense of what I hope to accomplish before we start pressing “record”.
What is it that Kenny Eng wants his audience to get?
I want my audience to get me. I want my audience to understand my intentions as a musician, which is why I love doing these kinds of interviews so much. I want to show people that there is a balance between being immediately listenable while also being layered and cerebral. Music doesn’t have to be relegated to being it’s lowest common denominator, or the product of some major marketing push. I want people to feel the same sense of elation, and euphoria, that you get from hearing a mega-pop hit in the form of smarter music. I guess what I really want is to create a culture of music listeners who still actually listen to music.
What’s in the future for you?
I have a bunch of really cool shows coming up, including a spot on the House of Blues main stage in August. Hopefully, we’ll begin making this band album in the next few months as well. But really, I’m trying to build some more momentum around my band and me so we can keep reaching new people. The struggle to evolve, and improve, as a songwriter continues as it always will. And with a little luck (and help), I’ll be closer to where I want to be tonight than where I started this morning.
Is there something that you want your fans and future fans to know about you?
It’s funny that you are asking me these questions, because just a few weeks ago, I found myself on the verge of a musical breakdown, where I didn’t know what I was doing musically, and why it just didn’t seem to connect with people. I know I’m breaking all sorts of marketing taboos, but I really couldn’t care about that right now.
I know I need help. Not in the psychological way (although, some may argue otherwise), but just in terms of building momentum, and creating opportunities for me to continue to share my music with new people. It’s hard to do this stuff on your own, and to find people who support your vision, to the point of saying that they want to be a part of it, is even more difficult to find. But I feel like the people who like my music, and come to my shows are already halfway there.
Looking back on some of the high-minded answers I gave you forced me to acknowledge how hypocritical I would be, if I were not to mention that I struggle with a lot of the questions you asked me constantly. The internal struggle between wanting to make good, intellectual music, and connect with broad audiences, is a constant battle. It’s not an impossible feat to accomplish, and I have no doubt that I can. But often times, I just want to take the easy road. Thankfully, I have people in my life who encourage me, and support me, more than they know. The reality is that I really don’t have any answers and I’m just making most of this stuff up, as I live my life. To quote Stephen Colbert, “Life is an improvisation… there are no winners or losers.” I just hope I’m good at it.
Then keep improvising, you do it well.
Thank you Kenny for a wonderful and revealing interview. Dave and I wish you all the very best in your life and in your career.
| Listen to a few selctions from “Live from Lestat’s” Here is the Music Player. You need to installl flash player to show this cool thing! |
Kenny Eng Links: Website ReverbNation itunes YouTube |
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Check out this interview I did with sandiegoacoustic.com. I know it’s a little “tl;dr” (too long; didn’t read) but hopefully this gives a little bit of insight to how conflicted and sarcastic of a person I am! Many thanks to Ken and Dave for reading, proofreading, editing and re-reading my thousands of words.