Today we’d like to introduce you to Gresham Cash.
Hi Gresham, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
I was born in Atlanta but grew up in Athens, where I received all of my education (kindergarten through graduate school). My family is very musical. Both of my parents studied music at Berry College. Both of my sisters play and sing. So, we always had a family band roster when necessary. More often than not, our home was the venue for any and all varieties of jam. We’d cycle through instruments, styles, and volumes. My buddy would be on bass with my sister’s buddy on drums and my sister on keyboards. It was always a very open musical environment.
So, by the time I was in college, I considered it a necessity to have a band room in my house. And wherever I lived, there would always be a drummer, bass player, and a handful of guitarists on hand for a jam. After college, those musical ideas started to mesh with emotions, the devastation of relationships, the plague of existentialism, and some primordial urge to get that out through rock and roll. Around that time, I started writing songs.
After a few versions of a band, Oak House became my primary vehicle for writing music. We won some awards and released two nice albums. We toured around the country and collaborated with some other artists. But then, those late twenties start approaching fast, and your free health insurance through your parents dries up. Lots of folks give up right then.
Fortunately, I moved to Atlanta and was still playing with a few groups. And in my first house in Atlanta, I started recording scores for my friend and collaborator, Ethan Payne. He was making short films and working in the entertainment boom in Atlanta at the time. So, we had a pretty good stream of films.
Of course, there were gaps. Naturally, this means that I worked in restaurants, breweries, and delivering food. I was a painter, carpenter, artist assistant, and generalist for money. But I continued writing and recording music.
Then in 2017, Ethan, my wife, Jodi, and I started going to St. Pete, FL to film a documentary about some smugglers who led adventurous lives, got busted big time, and ran all over the world. I began scoring that documentary, at the very least, composing themes.
Now, in 2024, we are finally submitting our first feature-length film to festivals. The score is complete, but my hard drives are fuller than ever with music.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
As mentioned, creativity and money are not a traditional marriage. Not to mention, abandoning six years of university education in wildlife biology to play rock music in bars and small clubs doesn’t always feel like a good decision.
Thankfully, my creative urge has always been stronger than my urge to get rich. And perhaps most intelligently, I’ve shared this path for ten years with my wife Jodi. So, whenever there’s a slump, we always seem fortunate enough to pick each other up.
Also, at some point you have to decide who you are making things for. There’s plenty of Rick Rubin YouTube videos about only doing it for yourself, which is nice, Rick, but much easier to say after you’re so successful that you’re not sure if you have 1 mil or 10 mil in your account. Nonetheless, it has always been a challenge for me to delineate whether I’m making something in hopes of getting a Pitchfork review or to impress my mom. Luckily, I’m surrounded by love and admiration, and it’s usually fairly clear that I don’t really need the big-time review or label to feel satisfied.
Has anyone’s road ever been smooth?
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m definitely not predominately any one thing. I studied wildlife biology because I love nature. But then, my creative impulse always seemed to tug me away from that.
These days I have trouble organizing my week into any sort of cohesive “I am a…” kind of structure. I love to read. And reading informs everything I do.
I write fiction, poetry, essays, articles, whatever seems to be coming out of me that day. I’ve written three novels of which I’m very proud. But I can’t seem to find the time to send them to publishers, agents, or whoever will pull me out of obscurity. There’s also all of the tandem fear, anxiety, voice-in-my-head-to-give-up. The manuscripts are edited and ready to fly. But…
I’ve released three solo albums in the last three years. Their beauty, and perhaps their lack of marketability, is the variety of genres and moods they create. My music can be grungey, punky, spacey, arty, dancey, droney, cinematic, and beautiful. I’m often hard-pressed to find a singular sound that I would like to replicate ten times for that cohesive album feel.
For our documentary that will premiere this year, I wrote, recorded, and mixed a soundtrack of some 36 tracks, 20 of which are just me. I play guitar, piano, bass, synth, drums, and sing. But when I’m lucky, I get to collaborate with other talented musicians.
These days, I’m obsessed with the freedom of collaboration. And that’s a far cry from the restriction of a band name.
What matters most to you? Why?
The freedom to exist as a creative entity exploring myself and combining that force with others doing the same. I think this is a supreme luxury as well. I’d like to say family, God, my wife, world peace, or the environment. But if you don’t feel good about yourself doing what you’re doing every day, it doesn’t seem likely you’ll be able to engage with those other things very well.
I feel no greater joy than when I’m enmeshed in the process of making something–in the studio, painting something, drawing, writing a poem, jamming. I’d reckon I’m a better, nicer person after that.
Contact Info:
- Website: greshamcash.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/greshamcash/
- SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/greshamcash/albums
- Other: https://oakhouse.bandcamp.com
