Jay packs about three dozen harmonicas and plays most of them during shows. He's a bluesman, he's a cowboy, he's a gypsy, he's a heavy loaded freight train going up a steep hill, he's heavy traffic on El Camino Real. He writes lyrics that take listeners downeast to the mackereling and lobstering grounds off the Maine coast, to the harbors and halibut grounds of the Gulf of Alaska. He gave us Mechanico "the voice of NOAA weather radio" and the Skookum Troller who "cuts through the water like she's eatin' pie."
Jon's guitar and occasional old-time banjo playing keep the sound friendly and back porch. With melodies both manouche and American, his songs travel from the mudflats of Bristol Bay, through southeast Alaska's narrow channels, clear to the bistros of the Silicon Valley. He brings "Les Yeux Noirs" to the cannery, "Auld Lang Syne" to a distant Alaskan future and Texas swing to Nushagak Bay. If he pulls his tin whistle out, hold your breath.