I went to Atlanta carrying a lot.

I was heading south because I had been nominated as a finalist in nine categories at the ISSA Music Awards. On top of that, the radio station behind Unlikely Places was participating in the summit, giving me another reason to make the trip.

On paper, this should have been an easy thing to be excited about.

But the few days before I left Connecticut were rough.

I had a lot weighing on my mind—doctor approvals, health worries, the aches and pains that came with starting Wegovy, and then, right before the trip, my dad’s car transmission decided to give up. I felt guilty knowing I was using his money to make this trip happen.

Honestly, I wasn’t walking onto that plane feeling like some confident rock star.

I was tired.

I was anxious.

And somewhere in the back of my mind, I was wondering if I was even going to keep doing music.

I almost quit before Atlanta.

I didn’t know it yet, but Atlanta was about to remind me why I didn’t.

Atlanta Felt Like a Long-Lost Home

The flight down was rough. I forgot to take my motion-sickness medication, which was a mistake I definitely didn’t repeat on the way home.

But once I landed at Atlanta’s airport, something changed.

I’d been to Atlanta once before, so the airport actually felt familiar. I waited around for Kyle for a while, but honestly, that wasn’t a bad thing. It gave me time to breathe before everything started.

Then we headed toward the city.

Seeing Atlanta from the Lyft was beautiful. The buildings, the streets, all the sights passing by—it was the kind of thing where I just kept looking out the window thinking, I’m really here.

And strangely enough, Atlanta didn’t feel foreign.

It felt like a long-lost home.

I didn’t really miss being home while I was there.

That’s probably one of the biggest surprises of the entire trip.

I loved it there.

Of course, I’m glad to be home now too. I’m slowly getting back into my routine, and there’s something nice about that. But Atlanta gave me a feeling I wasn’t expecting.

I belonged there.

Finally Meeting My Unlikely Places Family

One of my favorite moments happened before the craziness really started.

I was getting ready to do karaoke at the hotel, and the hosts were actually cool enough to let me play a song on guitar.

I’m warming up when in walks Matt—the editor who worked alongside me for six years—and Jillian, an incredible artist.

And suddenly, people I’ve known through Unlikely Places weren’t just names and voices anymore.

They were standing right there.

Jillian’s logo is also the Unlikely Places logo, with Kyle adding his own touch to it. Looking at that logo and then having all of us together in Atlanta was a pretty surreal feeling.

I’m really glad I met them.

We’re friends for life now.

It is hard to let Unlikely Places go. It was a huge part of my life, and letting go of something you’ve carried for so long isn’t easy.

But I also know I need to.

The summit seminar was the last big thing we needed to do together.

And spending time with my Unlikely Places people reminded me of something I think I needed to hear:

I don’t have to carry this alone.

Old Friends, New Friends & ISSA Rules

One of the coolest things about Atlanta was how many musicians I got to meet.

Some were people I’d known from previous years, including Andrew Dean, Rich Allen, Andy, Amy, and Sam from the Tracks on Trial podcast (I was on their podcast at the hotel that day too!).

It was great seeing familiar faces again.

But Atlanta also introduced me to a whole new group of people.

Danni Elise made a particularly big impression on me.

She’s only 18 and already has an incredible future ahead of her. She won gold in her first year, and I honestly believe she has the potential to become a huge star.

I’m honored to call her my friend, and even more honored that we’re going to be writing music together.

Her parents are pretty damn cool too.

Then there was Marc Gladstone—the one and only from the band Prism.

That was an amazing surprise. We ended up talking about Badfinger, Jellyfish, and all kinds of music, which is pretty much my idea of a good conversation.

Sean Tonar deserves an insane amount of thanks from me too. He helped set up our gig at Arditi’s Pizza in Lawrenceville, Georgia, and that night became one of the most memorable performances of the entire trip.

And then there’s Fernando Perdomo.

How do I describe the best producer in the whole damn world?

What a trip.

The stories.

The car rides.

The music.

All of it.

I honestly wish I could have just paused time.

Fern is the best.

And everywhere I went, I kept meeting more musicians and more people who reminded me just how incredible the music community can be.

ISSA rules.

Telling Our Stories

The seminar was a lot to take in.

I told my story.

I talked about surviving a heart attack. I talked about autism. I talked about the things I’ve been through and the things I’ve had to learn about myself.

And something became very clear while I was standing there:

People need to hear this stuff.

People need to know they’re not alone.

Kyle shared his story about epilepsy.

Matt shared his story about ADHD.

I couldn’t be prouder of my guys.

We walked into that room carrying our own experiences, and somehow those experiences became something we could give to other people.

We inspired a lot of folks that day.

For me, that was just as important as anything else that happened in Atlanta.

The Gig at Arditi’s

Then came the music.

Our show at Arditi’s Pizza in Lawrenceville was amazing.

It was outside, and there was something about the atmosphere that made the whole thing feel almost otherworldly.

Almost transcendental.

Matthew Graham opened the show with his original music, and he was awesome.

Then Fern and Sean brought their ridiculous musical abilities to the stage.

These guys are amazing players.

I have the audio recorded from the set with Fern, and I hope someday I’ll be able to share it.

For now, though, you’ll get to hear some of us on the upcoming OOB Records album, Dear Therapist, What’s Eating J.Edmond?

And then something absolutely bizarre happened.

During the last song, we were jamming, and I was talking about being a rock star like The Byrds.

About ten minutes later, actual birds flew over us.

I mean…

Come on.

You can’t write that.

😂

It was one of those moments where Atlanta just seemed to say, Yep. This is happening.

🍕 A Connecticut Boy Reviews Atlanta Pizza

Okay.

Let’s address the important issue.

I’m from Connecticut.

I love Connecticut pizza.

So when I walked into Arditi’s, I was cautious.

Travis, the owner—and now a new friend—had better hope I didn’t come down there and destroy his pizza in a public review.

I ordered the white-sauce meatball pizza.

And when it arrived, it smelled so freaking good.

Honestly, I felt like I was betraying home.

Then I took the first bite.

And my reaction was basically:

“Yeah. No. This is being at home and going to New Haven.”

The crust was wood-fired and crispy, exactly the kind of thing I can get behind.

Do I still love Connecticut pizza?

Absolutely.

Always will.

But Arditi’s did good.

Really good.

The Official Connecticut Boy Verdict

Arditi’s Pizza: 8/10

That’s a legitimate Connecticut-boy approval rating.

Travis, you did good.

I’ll be back.

Then I Became Songwriter of the Freaking Year

The awards were a completely different experience.

I went into the ceremony pretty much accepting that my friends were going to win.

And I was ready to cheer for them like no tomorrow.

I was sitting there pretty stoic when suddenly I heard music playing.

For a second I thought:

Wait… that song sounds like me.

Then I realized:

That IS me.

What the f?

I ran up to the stage.

And I cried.

I gave a speech about autism.

I talked about surviving my heart attack.

And I talked about how I finally realized that I don’t need to carry everything alone anymore.

I had gone into that room expecting to cheer for my friends.

Instead, I walked out as ISSA Songwriter of the Year.

I’m still shocked.

Eleven years into chasing this dream, it finally feels like the dream is just beginning.

And I love everyone who helped me get here—even if they were only part of the journey for a short time.

You all rock.

I especially have to thank A. Michael Collins.

He helped make me who I am today.

Hell, J.Edmond was his idea.

He came up with the name, it stuck, and now here we are.

Search Lights, baby.

And Then Atlanta Got Completely Insane

You’d think winning Songwriter of the Year would be enough for one night.

Nope.

I went straight from the awards to the ISSA afterparty at Wild Wing Cafe in Alpharetta.

The place was packed.

A full house.

And there I was, being completely myself onstage while Fern did his thing.

I had just won Songwriter of the freaking year.

It was time to party.

And then somehow, after the afterparty show, Fern, his friend Debonee, and I ended up at the Fox Theatre.

Because apparently winning an international songwriting award wasn’t enough excitement for one night.

Fern looked at me and basically said:

“You won. So you’re meeting Squeeze.”

He’s friends with Glenn Tilbrook, and suddenly I was standing there meeting people connected to a band whose music has been part of the soundtrack of my life.

Squeeze were incredible.

I wasn’t expecting a ten-piece band.

A TEN-PIECE BAND.

Wow.

They were so good.

Meeting Glenn and Chris was amazing.

And meeting Leon Tilbrook was incredibly cool too. Leon, you’ve got an amazing journey ahead of you, and I’m glad I got to know you.

The whole experience felt like I’d been transported straight back to the 1980s.

And I cried a little.

Because honestly?

I was still shocked that I was there.

Coca-Cola, Fern & A Little Fun

Before all the gigs and the insanity of the weekend, Fern took Kyle and me to the World of Coca-Cola.

It was a lot of fun.

Was it necessarily worth the ticket price?

Eh.

But screw it.

They had a taste-testing room.

😂

That made it worth something.

It was also nice to have some time to just hang out and enjoy Atlanta before everything got crazy.

Those moments matter too.

Not everything has to be about the stage.

Sometimes it’s just three people wandering around Atlanta, trying weird drinks and enjoying the day.

A Little Magic in Atlanta

Atlanta also gave me the chance to bring another part of my life into the trip.

I’ve started a new channel called Starlight Card Draw, where I’m showcasing my love of Magic: The Gathering, one of my favorite strategy card games.

And no, it’s not tarot cards.

It’s a strategy card game where people get together, play, compete, socialize, and generally have a great time at card shops and communities all over the place.

So naturally, I had to bring music into it.

And who better to help than Fern?

We filmed an upcoming Starlight Card Draw video where Fern gets to rip open a pack and answer a question with us.

It was seriously cool.

I’m also really grateful that the Unlikely Places crew has been helping me with this new channel.

It’s another reminder that even though one chapter is ending, that doesn’t mean the people and creativity have to disappear with it.

There’s more coming. Video drops Sunday.

What I Brought Home

Eventually, the trip had to end.

I came home to Connecticut.

Back to my routine.

Back to reality.

And here’s the weird thing:

The anxiety didn’t disappear.

The anger didn’t disappear.

The grief didn’t disappear.

But something changed.

I left Connecticut carrying anxiety, anger, and grief.

I came home carrying strength.

Those things didn’t go away.

I just feel like I can deal with them better now.

That’s what Atlanta gave me.

Not a perfect life.

Not some magical solution.

Not proof that everything is going to be easy.

It gave me people.

It gave me memories.

It gave me music.

It gave me a freaking award.

It gave me new friends like Danni, who made me feel like I could just be myself.

It gave me time with Fern that I wish I could have paused.

It gave me Matt and Jillian, and a reminder that the people from Unlikely Places don’t have to disappear just because the show is ending.

It gave me musicians like Sean and Marc and so many others.

It gave me new fans.

It gave me a packed room.

It gave me Squeeze.

It gave me pizza that earned an 8/10 from a Connecticut boy, which is no small accomplishment.

And it reminded me that I don’t have to carry this alone.

Fernando Perdomo, I have to give you a massive thank you.

Without you, this trip would not have been anywhere near as amazing.

I love you, brother.

Us against the music world, man.

And to Danni: I really hope you go as far as you’re capable of going. I’m honored that I get to call you my friend and that I get to write music with you.

To everyone I met, everyone I reconnected with, everyone who listened to me, played with me, laughed with me, supported me, or simply shared a moment with me:

Thank you.

Seriously.

You all rock.

I Already Bought the Dream

The strangest thing about Atlanta is that I almost didn’t go.

I was tired of fighting.

Tired of wondering whether the music business was worth the stress.

Tired of feeling like I was constantly being sold another dream.

I went to Atlanta thinking:

“Oh boy. Another thing to sell me a dream.”

But I came home knowing something completely different.

I already bought the dream.

And I need to continue.

The fight isn’t over.

Life isn’t suddenly easy.

But I’m still here.

I’m still writing.

I’m still playing.

I’m still meeting people.

I’m still making music.

I’m still making videos.

I’m still dreaming.

And after eleven years, maybe this isn’t the end of the story.

Maybe it’s finally the beginning.

Search Lights, baby.

See you on the road. 🎸