Martin Storrow grew up in North County San Diego, attending Temple Solel in Encinitas and Beth Am in Carmel Valley. He released a full-length called Matches in 2007. He later changed his name to Jakob Martin and released City of the Nameless (2009), Leave the Light On (2010), and California Songs (2011).
Some excerpts from Martin Storrow's tour diary:
Waltham 1-12-08: They didn't have a room for me to warm up in, so I went into the parking lot and began to do my vocal exercises and stretch. Some of my vocal warmups sound roughly like a mix between whale squeaks and outboard motors, and some cafeteria workers who were out by a loading dock having a smoke nearby started giving me strange looks before disappearing back inside. I laughed, I was used to it. About a minute later, two police cars came down into the parking lot, a cruiser and an SUV. I wondered what was going on. They approached me and the SUV in back pointed a spotlight in my face. A female officer rolled down her window.
"Are you okay, sir?" I smiled. The cafeteria workers must've called them. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm playing a show here tonight and was just warming up my voice."
The officer looked relieved. I was, too. "So you haven't been drinking or anything?"
I laughed. "No. I must look a little nuts warming up out here."
"Somebody thought so. Have a great night, sir."
Michigan 1-7-08: As we headed for Michigan, the extensive driving was wearing on both Brian and I. I started to get really ticked off by really little things. That's the thing when you're driving so much, there isn't much inside the van that's happening, so if you're not paying attention to the scenery (which you can't be doing all the time) you're either thinking, having a conversation, or allowing yourself to get annoyed at the other person over something ridiculous. I got so ticked off after a while I started quietly making a list of all the things Brian had done recently that bothered me:
Sneezing on the steering wheel and not covering his mouth.
Not putting my sleeping mat back entirely in its stuff sack.
Setting his wet towel on top of my cereal box.
Breaking the seat-back lever on the passenger seat.
Not always stopping for food when I'm clearly hungry.
Ohio 1-8-08: When most of what you play are love songs, or relationship related, or very poetic, it's always a surprise to walk into a show and find out that you'll be playing for an entirely male audience, especially in the middle of Ohio, where men are especially manly. For some reason, they had advertised this show on campus and about 50 guys had shown up -- oh, and one very lucky girl. I started the show by gesturing to the girl and saying, "I just want you all to know that there's a slight imbalance here tonight, and whenever I play a love song, it will be dedicated to her."
"Be careful," a guy from the crowd said. "Her boyfriend is here, too." Crap.
"Alright," I said. "I'll dedicate a few to him, too." The crowd busted up. The ice had been broken.
Storrow currently lives in Los Angeles.