We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Harrison Cofer. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Harrison below.

Harrison, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Can you take us back in time to the first dollar you earned as a creative – how did it happen? What’s the story?

The first dollar I earned as a creative was with the Houston Grand Opera. I was 8 years old and played a “Powder Monkey” in the show “Billy Budd”. Set on a naval warship, my job as a Powder Monkey was to run gunpowder to the cannons when shit went down. For this prestigious role I earn $10 a performance.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

My name is Harrison and I front the rock band Dirty Names, originally from Annapolis and now based in Nashville. The band started as most do, with a bunch of baby faced kids in a garage having the cops called for playing “too loud”. This garage however was a little different than most . It belonged to a local man, short tempered and eccentric, who fancied himself a manager and record producer. Over a few months we built a rehearsal space and studio in the garage, dodging the occasional hammer thrown in a fit of undiagnosed rage. This is where we built our chops and developed our sound. We listened to records, wrote songs, had vocal rehearsals and learned to play together in that garage. We even had some ballerina friends of ours come in and give us dance lessons. The ballerinas ended up in our music video for “Salt Water Jackie” which is worth checking out. They did an amazing job. Over time we built a following by playing anywhere and everywhere as often as we could. When I say anywhere, I mean anywhere. We played a spot called the “Crack Shack” which was a small brick structure about the size of a bed room. There were no doors, only a window everyone had to pass through. Inside, the walls were lined with mattresses and a lightbulb swung from the ceiling. You could only fit about ten people in at a time plus the band so every few songs a new batch of kids would cycle in. It was rad. We toured Canada, the continental US, and Europe and grew as a band and as brothers. At a certain point I burned out and needed to take a break so I moved to NYC to be with my girlfriend, now wife. Fast forward to today and the band is back together in Nashville. We made it through a global pandemic and are as pleased as the next person to have live music back in all of its glory. If anyone is looking for a new band to check out with great vocal harmonies and a bit of choreography a la ZZ Top, the Dirty Names will satisfy.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

I’ve had to reassess my relationship with perfection. The first manager/producer to work with the band got to us at a very impressionable age. Much of what he instilled in us I appreciate and hold on to today. One of his biggest soap box topics was the importance of both band rehearsal and individual rehearsal. He was a big supporter of the 10,000 hour rule which he referred to more often as the “long cut”. He would have us play a song over and over until we physically couldn’t go on, then have us do it again the next day. While rehearsing is obviously important and often my favorite part of being an artist, the relationship with perfection that comes from it can be a tricky road for me to navigate. I know it doesn’t exist and yet I fool myself into thinking I can get there. Sometimes I’ve found myself not releasing a piece of music because the “perfect” combination of factors hasn’t yet been reached. In another instance, I’ve gotten in my own way creatively because something isn’t coming off “perfectly”. In both of these cases nobody hears the song, either because it was never released or it was never even written! As an artist, my goal is to share my view of the world through whatever tools I have at my disposal and although that won’t ever be “perfect”, it’ll have to be enough.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

It sounds silly and you probably hear it all the time but if you want to support artists, BUY THEIR STUFF! I don’t mean to buy art just for the sake of buying art, but if you connect with an artist or they provide you with some sort of emotional currency, buy something. If it’s a visual artist, buy their art and hang it in your house. Tell your friends about the artist when they say OMG I love that painting! If it’s a band, go to the shows and buy some merch. Tell your friends. Better yet, bring your friends! If you can’t make the show, buy some merch on line. Everybody’s got a website. While a purchase of $25 or $50 might not seem like much, it’s the life blood that makes it possible to keep creating art.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.thedn.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dirtynames/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheDirtyNames
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@dirtynames/featured

Image Credits
Hannah Gray Hall Tucker Joenz