Nathan Lee

Darkness. Spotlight. Piano. Out of the blackness, heavily tattooed arms ease into the light and begin to play. Nathan Lee leans into the microphone and bleeds for you. Chest carved open, heart laid bare. That’s the only way he knows how to do it. His journey, through minefields and madness of the music industry, has taken him to the edge of the abyss. He’s danced along its edge and flirted with the shadows. In fact he’s wallowed in the bleak and black desperation of uncertainty – professi...

Darkness. Spotlight. Piano. Out of the blackness, heavily tattooed arms ease into the light and begin to play. Nathan Lee leans into the microphone and bleeds for you. Chest carved open, heart laid bare. That’s the only way he knows how to do it. His journey, through minefields and madness of the music industry, has taken him to the edge of the abyss. He’s danced along its edge and flirted with the shadows. In fact he’s wallowed in the bleak and black desperation of uncertainty – professionally, personally, spiritually. And though he may still occasionally walk the tightrope over that abyss, he’s found his way out of the darkness. It was music that led him back into the light. Just like it always has. Lee resides in the in-between – of chaos and order, sin and salvation, joy and pain. There’s a bracing honesty in his refusal to provide easy answers for the complex characters and narratives he creates. You can hear it in the songs of his latest project Risk Everything. They are unflinching in their honesty, uncompromising in their artistry. He possesses the hallmark of all great artists – an ability to find and communicate honest experience no matter how painful or euphoric. Born into music, his father ran a recording studio in New Jersey just outside New York City, Lee caught the performance bug at an early age. After honing his skills in the Northeast bar and club scene, he moved to Nashville in his early 20s. Once there he began writing with a friend who had a record deal. That led to a publishing deal for Lee with EMI. He learned to treat songwriting as a craft, but writing for other artists left him in search of his own distinct voice as a performer. Concurrently he built a painting business into a six-figure a year business. Stability and music don’t often go hand in hand. Choices must be made. There are crossroads in every artist’s career and Lee ha come to many divergent roads. He’s always chosen the one that led back to music. In this case, that meant walking away from the security of a great paying job so he could focus all his energy on music. It eventually left him homeless. It was the first time, but it wouldn’t be the last. In the aftermath of the closing of his business, he put a band together and began writing and performing with newfound intensity. Happenstance led him back to the business world where he formed and built a thriving music production and tour company. Again, money flowed in, but not happiness. The demands of the business inevitably took a toll on his music. Another crossroads. Another decision. Another business by the wayside. That was in 2007. And, once again, Lee found himself on the streets, living in his car. But the music was there. It never left him. In fact, it kept growing and building. It wouldn’t be denied. Finally, Lee surrendered, accepting that music is the only path he could follow. So a new band formed. He was ready to risk everything, following his muse wherever she would take him. He began a weekly residence at The Rutledge, a live performance venue in Nashville. It lasted for more than a year. Lee poured all the business and marketing acumen he’d learned over the years into his new venture. The crowds began to build. So, too, did the buzz. He built a rabid following with his live shows – sweaty, heart-pounding, soul-stirring marathons of passionate intensity. Attacking the piano like a madman, Lee refused to leave anything in reserve. His barbed-wire wrapped in velvet voice sang out tales of desperation and redemption. And an audience as diverse as his music soaked it in. “Our audience was pastors and strippers,” said Lee of his time at the Rutledge. “I sing to broken people because I am one. I want to write songs that bridge the gap between our differences and bring some essence of healing to what I do.” He eventually caught the ear of Dean Miller, longtime Nashville music business professional and son of the late songwriting great Roger Miller. He became a believer in Lee’s passionate approach to rock and roll and signed him to his new media company One Revolution Entertainment, a co-venture with Iris Thompson. Lee teamed with producer Paul Moak to record the appropriately titled Risk Everything, a stunning collection of songs that showcases an artist fearless enough to make a rock album with brains and heart that’s also filled with radio-ready hits. The fact that he pulls it off is a testament to his talent. Moak has produced, engineered, performed, and written songs on numerous gold and platinum records, as well as having tracks featured on hit TV shows Grey’s Anatomy, One Tree Hill, Dawson’s Creek, and Friday Night Lights. Moak brought out the best in Lee pushing him to explore the boundaries of his craft and then push beyond them. It was a cathartic and revelatory process. It gave Lee the freedom to fearlessly drive in and wrestle with the beauty and brutality of life. It makes songs like “El Diablo Y El Angel,” a soaring, orchestral anthem, resonate with deeper meaning. Leadoff track “Open Road” is a chiming, windows-down, radio turned up summertime sing-along. His raspy expressive growl fuels the flames on “Bringing Down The Fire” transforming an incendiary rocker into a thoughtful meditation on the meaning of life. Not an easy task, but one Lee pulls off with confidence. There’s an intrinsic spirituality that flows through these songs, because Lee is a truth seeker. He offers no definitive answers, but he passionately and unwaveringly asks the big questions. Why are we here? What does it all mean? His skills as a writer and stirring delivery as a performer allow these songs to come across so effortlessly and true. This record lives up to its title. Be glad it did.